blather
palmetto_bugs
ever dumbening descending awkwardly from the high-ceilinged room, like poorly made paper airplanes, as if stumbling on bumpy air

vernon and einstein sit, somewhere between patience and impatience, with that tingle felt all the way down into the sharpest, dead part of their claws

play and terror fill the participants, when saber and exoskeleton meet

a quick snack, later rejected, lays half-digested on the carpet
011127
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unhinged "those aren't cockaroaches...those are palmetto_bugs. that's what they call them down here" 011127