yarntails | Micro Tags!

[resurrects the chattiest boy per abby's request]

Edited 2021-05-10 02:06 (UTC)

[Dirk is sitting on the floor of Kankri's bedroom, blatantly ignoring all of Mr. Vantas' rules about leaving the door open when concupiscent partners are in the apartment. It's not like they're doing anything sexual, as Dirk is currently scrolling through Kankri's twitter. There is nothing horny about Kankri's twitter.]

You know the character limit isn't a challenge to see how many tweets you can put in a thread, right?

[He tilts his head to give his boyfriend (matesprit?) a look, careful not to angle it enough for his eyes to be visible behind his shades.]

[Kankri has long given up on the door thing, often able to rant his way out of repercussions anyway. At Dirk's comment, he sighs.]

While I understand Twitter's reasoning for limiting the character count--which, if you're unaware, is to conserve space on users' timelines by forcing--that's a strong word but it is true which implies that it is in itself problematic, doesn't it?--them to condense their thoughts into concise blocks of texts that can be enhanced--I'm being generous--by images and/or videos--I do find those limitations confining for the messages I have to deliver, especially taking into consideration their, often times, great urgency and influence that they could have on others if they were more easily accessible via retweeting one single, digestible tweet rather than expecting the average user to click on the thread--but I digress, I wouldn't have to "see how many tweets I can put in a thread"--forgive me if that was too mocking of you but that is how you sounded--if Twitter would allow more characters in their tweets, which they could still conserve space by implementing a "see more" feature on tweets rather than a series of tweets to create threads, although that would take away the punch--ah, that was violent, let me try again--impact some threads have in the manner that they're structured, so perhaps I could be satisfied if they doubled rather than tripled their character count.

[He doesn't even reach for the glass of water by his computer. He tilts his head right back, casting his bright red eyes at him from the corners.]

[Dirk's eyebrow slowly raises over his shades as Kankri talks. When he finally pauses for a breath, Dirk holds out his own cell phone, face impassive.]

Okay, twitter's character limit is 280. Express what you just said in 560 characters.

[If you're paying attention, you can spot the tiny hint of a smirk that he can't quite suppress.]

[Kankri squints at him.]

I would say this is bold of you but what isn't bold of you, and how could I be surprised that your follow-up to accusing me of rising to a fake challenge would be to present me with a real challenge in which you take my words out of context and use them for the basis of potential humiliation should I fail--which I won't--to summarize what I might have just forgotten all of what I said--which I didn't--putting you on the edge of being sadistic and ableist or, simply put, on the verge of being just an asshole, not to be too rude or blunt with my language.

[He takes the phone, neutrally smug somehow, but then struggles for a solid five minutes or so, typing and typing quickly, backspacing, clicking around his paragraph and backspacing, typing some more, overall doing this whole dance across Dirk's phone screen. Finally he stops, but he doesn't hand the phone over; if anything, he holds it closer as he looks back at Dirk.]

I admit, I'm finding this challenge difficult, hard as it may be to come to terms with despite my previous claims otherwise, which thus proves that a character limit is too constrictive in the first place, but as agreed I'll manage this.

[Dirk has to try very hard not to smirk at Kankri wandering around, lost in a sea of words, in his attempt to call him an asshole. God, why does he like this little fucker so much?]

Go ahead, then, prove me wrong.

[By the time Kankri admits-- well, not defeat, but difficulty, Dirk has given up and is almost outright grinning.]

Hubris, sweetheart.

[There's definitely a red-ish flush to his cheeks that there's no use even dreaming of repressing. Between Dirk's face and his words Kankri's composure is weakening.]

[Kankri keeps trying, furrowing his brows together, until he stills. The he abruptly hands back the phone, face scrunched up and his blush reaching the tips of his pointed ears; oh he hates this.]

I request that you allow me more time to prepare this summarization since this was short notice and to expect me to perform under the pressure of needing to return your phone to you in a reasonable timeframe could cause me anxiety if that was something I experienced--which is another ableist point against you today--especially considering that in a real situation in which Twitter's character count was 560 characters I would have the time to myself to construct the exact tweet I would want without feeling as if I'm being monitored or watched by someone sitting in my bedroom telling me to prove him wrong--or, in the theoretical situation, them, but since I'm specifically referring to you I'll continue using your preferred pronouns--which, I might add, this observant role goes back to problematic behavior of humiliation of your peers as you hold the advantage in the power imbalance of the situation--if I was able to do it then nothing would change for you, but since I wasn't able to do it I'm now humiliated--even though I'm in the right--and now you have something to hold over me if that was something you were going to do, which, as I've explained, would be a dick move.

[Oh, there we go-- a flustered Kankri is the best kind of Kankri, all the better if Dirk gets to cause it himself. He rolls his desk chair closer, until they gently collide with a plastic clunk.]

So, what you're saying is that you could do it if I wasn't making you nervous?

[They're close enough now that Dirk can reach out and drape his arm over the back of Kankri's chair, at just the right angle to line his hand up with one of his horns. He gives it a stroke with his thumb, testing the waters to see if he can get him to purr.]

[Kankri's always more alert the closer Dirk gets to him. He watches him in the instant he knocks against him, frowns at the collision, considers complaining about it in the same thread as his response, but oh. Kankri, instead, sighs, relaxed, out of his control as if Dirk has scratched a long neglected itch out of his reach that just happened to have been irritated all day by his most wooly sweater.]

[Then that flush roars back and he mashes his lips together as he whips his head to look at Dirk, narrowing his eyes at him. Purring may come from the throat and not from any opening between his teeth but his body language says it all: push him a little more and it's the end for his resolve.]

[Kankri isn't hard to read to begin with, too caught up in constructing a front that he never notices he's failed to make sure you can't just peer around the sides of it, but the blush gives him away spectacularly. Dirk smirks, slow and smug.]

Or maybe nervous isn't the right word.

[And there's that push, in the form of a firm thumb rubbing a circle against his horn.]

You're cute when you're pissy, but you're cuter when you're happy.

[he]

[other he]

[nya nya nya]

Edited 2021-05-10 02:10 (UTC)

[another He]

[soft]

[ice cream lad]

[she]

[let's give her another go]

[human unless you want to talk to a weird shaped horse]

[also human]

Edited 2021-05-10 02:15 (UTC)

[guess what? human]

[catboy, free to a good home]

[Aerith loves walking over to Vilmar's bakery when she's taking a break from work. It's right next door, which is so convenient, and she loves trying something new every day. Today she has a small present for Vilmar, too! She walks straight up to the counter with a basket on her arm.]

Hi Vilmar - how are you doing today?

[It's a slow day, which Vilmar is filling mostly by doing excessively elaborate frosting flowers for the walk-in-and-buy cakes. It keeps his hands busy and gives him something to put on the store's instagram, which makes Tataru happy. He puts down the piping bag when the bell rings to alert him to a customer.]

Aerith, just the girl I wanted to see! I'm doing icing roses again, want to weigh in on the accuracy?

[Aerith rests one arm on the counter and leans over to get a peek at his work. It looks beautiful, as always, from what she can see but this does provide her with a great opportunity.]

It's funny you mention roses...

[She raises her basket, which contains a simple but pretty flower arrangement that includes roses, and places it on the counter with a smile.]

I thought you deserved some real flowers today, and now we can compare these to your icing!

[Applejack lets herself into the bakery from the back, hauling in a heavy box of apples branded with "Sweet Apple Acres" on the sides by its handle holes without showing a hint of struggle.]

Mornin' Vilmar! Got y'r apples right here!

Edited 2021-05-16 21:23 (UTC)

[Baking is an early-morning gig, and Vilmar has gotten into the habit of eating breakfast at work to avoid waking G'raha up before dawn-- he's halfway through spreading jam on some fresh bread when Applejack comes in.]

Oh, hey, good morning! Hold on, let me put this down, I've got some goodies for you.

[She sets the box down where she usually does and fishes out Vilmar's invoice from her back pocket along with a Sweet Apple Acres branded pen--Twilight's idea--and holds it limp in her hand.]

Why, that's mighty kind of you! I've got a little somethin' for you too.

[muffled swear words in the distance]

[apparently I can just get into all these accounts]

Micro Tags!

Kankri

oh this is gonna be SO dumb, lets go with 5

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Cloud

Zack

Morgana

Yusuke

Ryou

Roxas

Lucy

Rebecca

Applejack

Rarity

Twilight Sparkle

Vilmar

let's do 5, I'm not a writer ;;

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3!

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Kenny

Dib