CHAPTER XI: DISTRICT FOUR
Jupiter Fairhope, 18;
District Four Female, SHE/HER
- A WEEK BEFORE -
Far off from the pier where Jupiter stood, the sun melted into an ocean like a pool of fire, slowly receding underneath the horizon to begin its nightly slumber. She steadied the edge of the water-stained motorboat with one hand and extended the other to Dana, who was still inside. He grabbed her forearm with years of practiced trust and hoisted himself out, grunting softly.
All in all, it had been a productive day. Jupiter worked part-time as a spearfisher with Dana's family, a job she had only taken due to her parents' incessant demands to be more responsible and financially independent. Ironically enough, their plan had unintended consequences; Jupiter was definitely independent now, so much so that she barely ever consulted her parents for anything anymore.
Jupiter twisted her torso back and forth, exhaling when she felt the satisfying crack of her back. With both training and work almost every day, sore muscles were nothing out of the ordinary. Endurance and persistence were ideals that were relentlessly hammered into Jupiter from a young age; she was nothing if not accustomed to hard work.
Sometimes Jupiter wondered what it would be like to leave all of it behind; to go far, far away from District Four, from Panem, from training and her parents and everything she'd ever known. She could just take the boat out one morning and drive into the coast without looking back, but it was just a pipe dream she would be foolish to humor. In the middle of the ocean was where she could forget all her commitments and ignore the shithole that was her future. It was where she felt the most anchored, the most herself. But each night when the sun went down, she had no choice but to return back to shore, stranded at the only home she had ever known.
Jupiter watched the rosy skies as Dana helped his parents take the massive net of fish to the ice room for preparation. She did nothing as the sun sank into the coastline, painting the surface of the ocean liquid gold. Eventually, the sun completed its descent and the skies turned dark and desolate. The pier lights began to flicker on, bathing her surroundings in a hazy glow. For a couple minutes, Jupiter stood alone, listening to the water slosh underneath the wooden boards beneath her boots.
Soon, a different pair of boots creaked on the deck behind her, taking care to keep quiet. Jupiter knew they were there, but she didn't bother to acknowledge them until they spoke up.
"Ready to head inside?" said Dana, outstretching his hand next to Jupiter's head. She took it wordlessly, and he hoisted her up with the strength she had to him just minutes prior. They walked side by side away from the deck and down the street, towards the place Jupiter felt most comfortable on land.
The Asburys had a nice home, to say the least. The path to the front door was littered with cracked seashells, all sun-bleached and faded. Under broad daylight, the house was pleasant enough. But when dusk fell, it held a quaint sort of charm that never failed to make Jupiter feel warm from the inside. Despite not being related to the Asburys, she had never felt anything short of welcomed from them. Each house had a different smell, and Jupiter smelled like theirs, like sea salt and cedar wood. Dana's place was far more familiar to Jupiter than her own house, but in perspective of her tense relationship with her folks, it was only natural that she would drift to the seaside in search of somewhere else to spend her days and nights. The only thing her parent's house was good for was sleeping.
Dana went into his house first, not bothering to hold the door open for Jupiter. As soon as she stepped inside, that familiar Asbury home smell enveloped her. As she breathed in, her shoulders started to untense. She slowly felt more eased and relaxed as she walked into the comfortable space. Sure, it was a little on the cramped side, but Jupiter figured that was the charm of it. The mellow orange glow and the kitschy interior made the place feel truly lived-in; nothing like the minimal, lifeless look Jupiter's own parents had spent a fortune on maintaining for their own house.
"Pa said we should just go ahead and eat," Dana said once they were situated indoors. "He and Ma are gonna be busy for a while scalin' the fish, and he doesn't wanna make you wait."
"I have no problem waiting for them," Jupiter said earnestly.
Unfortunately, It seemed her stomach hadn't gotten the memo, growling loudly after Jupiter spoke. Like a flounder caught in the sidelights, she stared dumbfoundedly at Dana. "Ignore that. It's-"
Dana cut her off without a moment of hesitation. "Nope, no dice. Pa was very adamant about it. Said you deserved to eat as soon as possible after a long day of training bullshit."
"Seriously, I-"
"I knew you would argue! I don't wanna hear it— my father said he's gonna chase you out the house if you wait for him and Ma. 'No starving under my roof,' he said." Dana widened his large, brown eyes at Jupiter expectantly, preparing for further retaliation. When she said nothing, he crossed his arms smugly. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. What're we eating then?"
"Hum…" Dana stalked over to the ice chest on the other side of the kitchen, peering inside to examine its contents. "Looks like… we have crawfish! For the fourth day in a row!"
Jupiter sighed. "Crawfish season is a pain in the ass."
"You know it. Grab the rice and the tajin, we're gonna have a feast on the roof t'night." With an ice shovel, Dana began scooping the chilled crawfish into a foil tray. Jupiter took out two bowls from a cabinet and spooned a healthy portion of rice into both. She turned around to fetch the tajin and a lime, and as if on cue, Dana turned around to stare at her.
"Lime with your crawfish? You're weird for that," he said.
"You say that every time. It's good, you just have no taste." Jupiter rolled her eyes, smiling to herself.
When they were ready, they climbed upstairs to Dana's room. It was simple, mostly unfurnished with just a futon in the corner of the room and a desk for his schoolwork. Evidence of Dana's presence was already scattered carelessly around the house, so there wasn't really a point to make his own room lively when all he did was sleep in it.
Dana set down the foil tray on his desk and began to unlatch the rickety window. He and Jupiter had given that roof quite the beating for the past couple years, spending countless nights hanging out on the rooftop since they were sixteen. Sometimes they would come with food and banter, like tonight. Other nights, they would be empty-handed and quiet, but whether in the midst of amble conversation or complete silence, it was comfortable. It always felt nostalgic, reminiscent of a childhood Jupiter never truly got to spend with Dana.
He climbed out first, and she passed him the crawfish tray through the window. Once again, Dana didn't bother to hold open the window for Jupiter as she went through. Asshole, she thought, but she was smiling. When she came out, he was already situated in his snug dent on the roof. With a sigh, she settled next to him in her own spot, sinking into the wind-worn slate.
Nights like these, she was aggressively reminded of how her days with Dana were numbered. Lately, she had been taking great care to cherish every last second she had with Dana. Living in the moment had never proven to be difficult for her until she started becoming increasingly aware of her impending fate.
In a week, she would be carted off to the Games, to fulfill her dream- no, her parents' dream, of securing victory for District Four. Entering the 99th Games was a fate her parents had envisioned and imposed on her ever since they signed her up at the Training Academy. In their youth, Laguna and Ford had almost been volunteers. Unfortunately, neither of them had been able to succeed to the final stage, and now were hellbent on making sure their daughter didn't follow in their footsteps of mediocracy. Jupiter was only eight when she started learning how to kill.
The older she got, the more she started to hate the idea of going into the Games. Her parents' overbearing expectations were unrelenting, barely giving her a moment to think for herself whether this was what she truly wanted. Still, Jupiter was afraid that her life would become thrown off-kilter if she dropped out of the Academy. So she exercised her teenage spite in other places: partying and drinking, staying out late, littering her body with holes and filling them with jewelry- basically doing all sorts of petty things she knew her parents wouldn't approve of, just to piss them off. It was the only way she could take back her life, but ultimately, it didn't matter how independent she pretended to be if she was still on the path that her parents had chosen for her a decade prior. And around this time last year, when Jupiter was asked to represent District Four in the 99th Games, she didn't have the courage to say no.
If she could redo her answer now, Jupiter would have refused. But it was too late to change anything, and she wouldn't linger in past regrets.
Fortunately, it was easy to stay afloat with Dana by her side. When she was with him, she could forget about it all. For as long as Jupiter had known him, he never imposed any sort of expectation on her, which was more than she could say for pretty much everybody else in her life. He was like a brother Jupiter hadn't gotten around to meeting until well into her teenhood. She didn't talk to him about her worries; no point muddling their fleeting good moments with things she couldn't control, no matter how much they irked her. They ate silently under the stars, save for the twisting and cracking of shells between their calloused fingers.
Dana licked his fingers clean with a satisfied pop. "Okay, I'm full. You can have the rest," he said, wiping his hands on his trousers.
Eyes narrowed, Jupiter dug through the crawfish shells in the tray and scowled. "There's nothing left!" She moved to smack him, but he dodged and only narrowly managed to miss her strike, laughing.
They moved the foil tray and the bowls of spice aside, wiping their hands on their pants legs. Jupiter shifted her weight, laying with her spine against the roof. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but she wasn't ready to go back inside just yet.
Beside her, Dana was still sitting upright. He hummed a little shanty, slightly out of tune, but it was pleasant. After a couple minutes, he turned his face towards her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Hey." he said.
"What're you hey-ing me for?" Jupiter said, knitting her eyebrows together.
"You up for an impulse activity?"
She bared her teeth at him in a rough smile. "That even a question? I'm up for an impulse anything," she said, doing little to conceal her intrigue. "Whatcha got?"
Swiftly, Dana got onto his feet. "I'll be right back, just need to get something," he said, and disappeared back through his rusty bedroom window.
Underneath the night's outdoor ambience, Jupiter could hear the faint rumbling of drawers as Dana went to get whatever the fuck it was he was trying to get. He returned quickly with his materials in hand. In his dominant hand, he gripped a thin, glass rod, a needle crudely affixed to the end of it with heavy-duty tape. Well, Jupiter thought, it looks sturdy enough, but sketchy as hell. In his other hand he held a matchbox. She knew what was up immediately, but decided to poke fun at him anyway.
"Yer gonna mutilate me with that?" she sniggered. "If you cuck the male rep and volunteer with me next week, you can do it for free. Bonus, you'll get away with it!"
"Oh, hush." Dana lowered himself onto his knees and flicked a match against the box. A baby flame grew from the spark, and he hovered the needle over it with steady hands, charring it completely before he decided it was sterilized to his liking.
"You've been wanting a labret piercing for a while, right?" he said, looking up at her.
She scoffed. "Dude, getting a labret a week before the Games is just asking to get my lip ripped out."
Dana's eyes widened. "Fuck, my bad I didn't think about it. We don't have to-"
"Nah, nah, I was just messin'." Jupiter interjected. "Let's do this shit."
Jupiter scooted closer to Dana, and he handed her the match with the instruction to hold it at a half-arm's reach, for light. Dana's breathing came in tandem with the waves as they crashed against the rocks. His eyes were narrowed in concentration as he pinched the center of her bottom lip between his fingers and tilted her head towards the sky. Dana's face took up most of her line of sight, but from her peripheral vision she could still see the silver needle glinting wickedly in the moonlight. Still, she didn't squirm. She trusted Dana to spear through her lip with the same expertise he speared fish.
"Your breath smells like shit, by the way." he said nonchalantly.
Jupiter wanted to swat him but before she could decide if revenge was worth losing her lip for, he started clicking his tongue. "Ah ah ah, I've got your lip in one hand and a needle in the other, you really wanna play like that?" Dana chided.
She couldn't exactly form words properly, but she spat back at him anyway. "Do it. Just giss 'e an eckscuse to hahh 'ore 'etal in 'y 'ace than actual 'ace, anyway."
"Your old folks would have your head for that."
"'akes it all the 'ore worthwhile, don't cha think?"
"You make points," he mused. "You ready?"
Dana didn't even give her a moment to respond before piercing through her lip in one swift motion. Warmth blossomed around the new hole in her lip, but she could feel that it was a clean wound. With the needle still in her face, Dana dug through his pockets for something before fastening a steel jump ring through her lip. When the jumpring was secure, he eased the needle out and screwed his handiwork shut with a small metal ball.
"What the fuck," Jupiter scowled, hovering her middle finger underneath her bottom lip gingerly. Her eyes stung with the beginnings of tears, but despite the initial shock, the whole procedure was virtually painless. "I'm gonna file a lawsuit against you."
He had the nerve to throw his head back and laugh. Cheeky bastard. "I refuse to speak without an attorney present," he quipped back. "Don't be ungrateful, that went way better than last time when I did your cartilage. My god, that keloid was-"
"Ugh, don't remind me," Jupiter groaned. But regardless of whether he did or not, she was eternally damned to be his best friend. Even if all Dana did was bring up her most embarrassing moments, like the infected piercings, the idiotic stunts, the time she tripped and fell into the harbor after doing the most to impress a girl, she would give anything to make sure it stayed a constant after the Games. She wanted more nights where they talked about everything and nothing. She wanted to grow old with her best friend, but as the days passed, she wondered whether she'd be able to deliver a final 'fuck you' to her parents, whether she'd be able to repay the Asburys for their kindness, whether she'd be able to hang out with Dana like teenagers without a care in the world. Whether she'd be able to emerge from the Games alive.
"Hey," Dana said, his voice suddenly soft, "You good?"
She cast her glassy eyes on the ground where the light couldn't expose her vulnerability. "Mhm."
"Are you crying?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"All right," Dana said, enveloping her into a tight hug. She set her face down on his shoulder, sniffing loudly. He didn't say anything when the sleeve of his shoulder became wet, and Jupiter was grateful for the silence.
Kai Thana, 18;
District Four Male, HE/HIM
- A WEEK BEFORE -
TW: DEPICTIONS OF BLOOD AND GORE
Rumor had it that there was an entity haunting the long-abandoned docks of District Four, a vengeful spirit borne of the bloody seaside butcheries and an overseas tragedy aboard a ship called the Mortalis. It descended its wrath upon captains, butchers, and navigators alike, sparing not a single soul that made the foolish decision to lurk around alleyways and rocky coasts after dark. The residents that still dared to live in that small sector in District Four knew the legends were indeed true, trembling uncontrollably at even the mention of Kai's alias: the Bone Demon.
He hadn't always been like this. A lifetime ago, Kai had been one of those poor kids that grew up on the slaughter docks, destined to live, work, and die with the rocky shore as his final resting place. He grew up in one of the most remote, nefarious parts of District Four, where the law meant nothing; as soon as he was born, the only thing that guaranteed whether he could succeed was if he knew how to survive.
Kai was practically born with a knife in his hands. He spent each day soaked in both seawater and fish blood. Every morning he would wait patiently by the slaughter docks, waiting for a boat, a ship, or even a regular ol' fisherman to approach him and fork over a few copper sprats.
It was thankless work. With the sun beating down his back, he'd descale and fillet the fish whichever way his clients asked. If Kai was feeling cheeky, he would haggle with the fishers, charming his way into getting a couple more coppers. The midday stench was horrid, and the heat would only make it all the more rancid. By the end of the day, the docks would be littered with severed fish heads, tails, and glittering scales stuck to the rotting wooden boards, slicked over in red.
Kai spent more nights than not huddled in an alleyway with his father and his brother Micah, gnawing on thrown-out fishbones and chewing on crab guts to convince their bodies that they were eating something. Their only possessions were matches and crude whale fat candles, anything that would tide them through the cold on bleak, bitter nights.
His family's dock was only one of many; they had to compete fiercely with the other docks in order to stay afloat in the seafood butchery market. When he turned fifteen, their business began to stall. On days that were supposed to be busy, their dock would be completely void of fish carcasses, a huge contrast from the slicked docks he sauntered through in his youth. In attempts to get the boats to look their way, Kai would scream his throat raw with promises of the cheapest rates and best slices. He even quit his silver tongue, asking for nothing more than the least he could charge. But eventually, despite their family's best efforts, even their most loyal clients started to desert their docks in favor of bigger men with bigger knives who were equipped to slice kingfish, swordfish, sharks.
It was only a matter of time before Kai became curious himself. One day, Kai ventured out to a rival dock to see for himself what the big deal was. He watched as ship captains and members handed butchers heavy sacks of metal coins like they were nothing, his mouth agape in awe as the netted sharks were pulled on the deck from the boat. With a cleaver that seemed big enough to block out the sun, the butchers sunk their blades into the sharks' tough, rubbery flesh without remorse. Suddenly, it all made sense to Kai.
There truly was no way the Thanas would be able to compete with the other docks. Hell, Kai couldn't even afford basic necessities like food and shelter, much less beautiful knives to cut fish with. If Kai couldn't profit from his family's butchery, then he would just have to find a different means to get by.
"Micah," he whispered one summer night. His brother's sea-green eyes fluttered open from the other wall of the alleyway.
"Micah!"
"...yeah?" his brother slurred, still drowsy from sleep. He rubbed at his eyes before giving Kai his full focus.
"I thought of an idea," Kai said. His irises glinted mysteriously in the candlelight. "Something that will get us big coin."
Micah yawned, and then cracked his neck to the side. "Okay," he said, "shoot."
Kai's idea went as followed: sweet talk a streamline ship into letting the Thanas accompany them out to sea as an on-deck butchery. From there, their brothers and their father would prove themselves to be essential onboard and secure themselves spots as permanent crewmates, slowly climbing higher and higher up the ranks until their family held riches beyond anything they had ever known.
In retrospect, it would've been far better if Kai had never come up with the idea to begin with. His life as he knew it ended as soon as he stepped onto the Mortalis two years ago. Standing next to his father and his brother, the only thing that he could feel was raw excitement. Who would've known that within mere days, the only emotion Kai would ever be able to feel again was pure, unbridled wrath.
See, what Kai hadn't anticipated within his plan was the sudden storm that suffocated the skies over the Mortalis, days off the shoreline. The weather lookout onboard had succumbed to a drunken stupor the night prior, rousing to consciousness much too late after the crew could turn back. It was the crew and Kai's family to fend for themselves in the middle of an unforgiving ocean.
The waves clawed ravenously at the side of the wooden ship, threatening to pour all the people onboard out and into its sinister depths. Shipmates were scurrying to-and-from, legs sturdy and accustomed to the patterns of the seas. But the Kai and his brother had only ever known the land; they could not resist the twists and turns of the ship as it careened against the currents.
"Kai!" Micah exclaimed, his voice nearing the edge of hysteria.
From across the ship, Kai whipped his head to the direction of his brother's voice, blanching when he saw that Micah only had a measly, woven rope to hold his body steady.
"Stay there!" Kai ordered, attempting to cut through the harsh wind to cross to his brother's side. Micah frantically outstretched one hand, the other still holding onto the rope with white knuckles. But before Kai could grab ahold of him, the wind whipped Micah into the churning, black depths.
Kai couldn't even hear the sound of him screaming his own voice hoarse over the howling thunder.
He hadn't noticed his father rushing over until he was there next to Kai, standing proud and tall. Kai knew that there was no way the winds could toss him overboard the way that they had done with Micah.
Without a moment's hesitation, his father threw Kai the rope that had served as Micah's lifeline. There was a wild, manic frenzy in his eyes as he shouted at Kai. Kai couldn't hear his father over the winds, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that his father was already prepared to meet his watery doom at the bottom of the sea if it meant saving his son.
His father affixed his body to the rope and jumped overboard. Kai held the rope fast, his knuckles whitening with the effort. Both his father's and brother's lives were on the line; even though a small part of him knew it was hopeless, he prayed desperately that his father would be able to rescue Micah from the churning seas.
Gentle, kind Micah. Beautiful, compassionate Micah. The brother he was blessed to have and the man he had always strived to be. Kai was preparing to issue his mental goodbyes, but he hardly had the chance before the drunkard of a captain staggered over to the port side of the ship, knife in hand. The world seemed to slow down around Kai as he watched the captain sever the only thing keeping him connected to his father and brother. He couldn't move, he couldn't lunge forward and grab the frayed end of the rope as it slid overboard into the depths of the black seas. Neither could he register any of the captain's incoherent excuses; something about the storm and sharks and sinking, but Kai didn't process any of it.
As the captain stepped away from the side of the ship, Kai scrambled over to the edge. His eyes widened in horror at the sight that awaited him. The water was blood red, tossing chunks of chum angrily back and forth atop the waves. In the middle of the crimson cloud, Kai could see his father desperately trying to swim toward Micah. There was a blur of gray and then the man was gone. A shrill scream from Micah quickly followed suit, piercing the air for a fraction of a second. When Kai looked back at the water, he could see nothing but leathery, gray fins ripping through the red froth his father and brother had been reduced to. Just like that, his family, his hopes, his life were sentenced to the cruel fate of rotting at the bottom of the ocean.
Kai couldn't remember how, but the ship and her remaining crew made it back to the docks. By the time land was visible again, the waters were inconspicuously calm, as if everything he'd ever loved hadn't been swallowed by it mere hours earlier. Even as Kai stepped off of the ship and back onto solid ground, he felt that part of him had been dragged down to the lightless depths alongside his father and Micah. There was no comfort to be found in the empty alleyway that he returned to, the echoes of his father's cries and his brother's screams filling the silence.
Worst of all, though, was the way his mind would replay the moment the captain severed the rope. His imagination would place him right back on the port side of the ship, staring out at the wide eyes of his family members. Someone would bark orders over his shoulder, then there would be footsteps, and the scent of alcohol would follow soon after. The face of the captain was burned into his mind, as was the way that he disposed of his family's lifeline without a second thought. Every time the memory returned to him, it became more vivid, filling him with an insatiable appetite for justice—no, vengeance.
The hunger distracted from the void in his chest. It consumed him, motivated him, controlled him. Kai committed himself to his work like never before. He became increasingly efficient with his knives, just as he became eerily familiar with the voices in his mind. They would remind him not to lose control, that there was still a mission left for him to carry out.
Kai listened. He always listened, even when they began to sound a little bit different, even when they began to tell him terrible things. It was maddening, but Kai channeled his focus into preparing himself to avenge his family.
When the urge to spill human blood became next to unbearable, Kai looked to the Hunger Games. The docks were the perfect place to train. Under the cover of night, he would venture out to the docks and use his work tools to mock-fight against the massive carcasses that had been hauled in during the day. Before the sun rose, he would slice the catches into little slices, leaving no evidence of his attacks. On occasion, Kai would even stop by District Four's Academy to get a feel for what tactics and moves the Careers were employing. It helped enough, though he knew that he would never reach the same level as the students he saw behind the windows of the Academy. It didn't matter to him as long as he fulfilled his goal.
But the voices were growing quieter. Kai wondered if training was no longer working, if it was drawing so much of his focus that he could no longer clearly visualize the faces of his father and brother. He needed to remember them. He needed to hear their voices in his head like he did when he first got back. They were all he had left. They needed him to avenge them, or else they might fade away.
He began stalking the crew that was aboard the ship during the accident. One by one, he picked them off. None of the men who died by Kai's hand were innocent, not in his eyes. With every kill, he rewarded himself with a tattoo and a bone carving. It was all a process, a steady build to the final act that would set things right. By the time that a single member of the crew remained, whispers of the killings were rampant throughout the District. Kai hardly paid them any mind. There was still one name left on his list, and Kai would be damned if he let the man who killed his family walk away scot-free.
And so, earlier that night, Kai had followed the captain, who was drunk and babbling nonsense, on his way out of the bar that he frequented. During the weeks that he'd been observing him, he'd come to this bar more times than Kai could count. It was no wonder he didn't see Kai coming when he finally closed in on him; the man was too drunk to know which way was up and which way was down. Kai found a sort of humor in the way the captain's eyes widened when he finally recognized him. By then, it was too late. Kai had already dragged him into one of the abandoned warehouses along the docks, and no one heard the captain's screams. It was pathetic how quickly the commander of the once-legendary Mortalis was reduced to mere sea scum.
Kai thought that when he massacred the entire crew, he would be able to go back to how he once was. Now, he realized the idea was foolish; there was no going back after Micah died, after he started hearing the voices.
"I can't stop," he said hoarsely to the man across from him. "I can't stop, and at this point, I don't even know if I want to. Perhaps I'm going crazy, but what's even wrong with that? For my father, for my brother, I would kill anyone and anything. I need to carve bone and flesh, I need to stain the seas— stain them with blood until they know the color red, until they know the taste of human flesh."
The candle that sat between the men cast smoky shadows on the pavement, fleeting and strange. Illuminated was a bloody captain's hat, lying untouched and abandoned next to the man.
"Now, do you understand?" Kai whispered, hollow and shrill. "Do you understand?"
The man gave no response. There was no sound but a subdued drip, drip echoing faintly against the brick walls of the warehouse, coming from underneath the man. He laid on his side, entrails spilling out carelessly from the gash in his stomach. The captain's ribcage hung exposed and agape, the wound smiling grotesquely as red dribbled from its opening.
Dead men made for shoddy audiences.
DISTRICT FOUR REAPINGS
July 4th, 10:24 PM
Female Slot: Narissa Selkin / Jupiter Fairhope - 7 slips
Male Slot: Harbor Olvera / Kai Thana - 7 slips
a/n: i'm back baby bag bastards, this chapter was brought to you by dirtwolf Co. and Rune Whisperer Enterprises for their kids Jupiter and Kai respectively! this chapter turned out to be longer than i had anticipated but please know i really am doing my best to keep this shit under 5k haha [sweats nervously] it's not going very well but that's because i have can't shut the fuck up disease and it has no cure actually. anyway a big fat SANH KIUUU to logan, linds, and my irl for looking this shit over for me! ;; much appreciated sexies MWAH
q: what's your favorite new-age deez nuts joke? mine is howdy
$wag im out this bitch,
bronkitis
