It is Scarlett Langford's birthday today. She is Ȩ̶̱͖͔͚̱̫̗̰̻̞͙̑̈̾̒̄͑̎̔̔̈́͂͘͝ͅṞ̵̮̞̥̘̻̠̘̰̻̹̦̄̽͑̃̔̽̇͂̍̐̊̔͝ͅR̷̨̡̤̥͙̼̲̞̯̩͌̄̉̇̎̈́̈̇́̀̄́͜͜͝O̸̡̺̥̬̗̪͔̘̠̩̞̽̃͆̒̋͛̈̂̆́͜͠͝R̸̨͔͔̮̯͎͇̖̫̘͎̣̺̀̓̀͆͛́̔̐̒̃̆̈́̎ ̸̬͍̥̲̲̦̩͓̩͇̱͐̈́̇̿̎̄̍̎͋̉̕͜͝D̷̡̨̡̥̝̳̩̥̘̙̬̫̉̍̆͆͒̀̎̅́͑̐͘͘ͅẠ̵̫̝̻͙̰̟͎̼͕̖̮̜̇̍͆́̾̎͛̀̇̀̚͝Ṫ̶̝̺̳̼̭͖̳̙̭̯̝̱̑͂͐̌̃͆̀̃́̂̏͘Ą̸̝̝͙͖̩͓͇̥̺̖̣̊͐̐̑̾̄̿̐́̓̾̈̿ͅ ̴̢̺͓̤͍̹͚̰̼͈̟̞̤̈́̈͐̐̿̿̇́̂͗̕̕͘Ư̶̡̩̲̼͚̹̞̯̼̬̯̆͐̔͋́̐̾͆͒͘͘ͅN̴̢̛̩̣̫͓̞̠̠̭̺̠̓̽͊̒͋̋̒̈̌͋̕ͅK̸̡̯̪͓̩̖͉̘̰͓̹̖̀́̅̾̊̊́̆̋͊̉͜͝Ņ̷̬͙͈͍̲͚͕̞̥͉͉̊̌͊̾̓̿̌̆͛̓̀͠͠Ǫ̷̡̛̭͇̘̤̰͖͖͚̤̫̀̎͒̋̐̿́̄́͠͠ͅW̵̖͉̲̞͉̰̤̯̮̦̩̜̪̓̉̏͐̆̄͐̐͋̀͠͝Ń̶̢̜̮͈̤͙̦̗̹̙̯͎̌̾́͒̃͒̓̎͒͝͝ years old!
[ When Logan wakes up from his 42 hour nap, the first notification on his Fluid announces Scarlett's birthday.
So he draws.
It's not hard for him to draw things as long as he has reference, and from the photos taken of the room the other day now present on his device (technology is amazing), he has enough to be able to draw Winnie the Pooh in near-perfect detail... in grey pencil, of course, because he doesn't have anything coloured.
For some extra flair he adds some vanilla scent to it, taking a small bit from his incense ingredients. Pooh is holding Sprite up in a toast with a slice of cake in his other hand, a party cone on his head.
Happy birthday! - Logan is written in perfect 1800's handwriting. This card is slipped under her front door for her to find whenever it's most convenient. ]
Edited (added a dash................. just so u dont think it says happy birthday logan LFMALSMGLMDH) 2018-11-01 16:49 (UTC)
[ He's not the only one who's spent a great deal of the day napping. Not sleeping for the last two months has been really shitty. She does, however, try not to make a point of not sleeping through her entire birthday because as shitty as it is to not have Paz here, to not have anyone here from home - despite the fact everyone she knows from home is probably long dead - it's still her birthday.
Swigging from a whisky bottle, she finds the card under her door not long after he's delivered it, frowning suspiciously for a few moments before she decides to pick it up and open it.
The faint scent of vanilla. A birthday card. She blinks at the sight, trying to process it. Someone has actually sat and taken the time to... make her this. For her. Shit. Logan made her this. Well... shit. She's... kinda struggling with this.
Tears pricking her eyes, she very gently places it on her coffee table and sits, staring at it for a few moments, broken only by the occasion swig of whiskey. He made her a card. For her birthday.
Finally, she texts him: ]
hey
so like
thanks.
it's the dumbest thing i've ever got. like cute dumb. but i like it.
REMINDER
later in the day, past 5
So he draws.
It's not hard for him to draw things as long as he has reference, and from the photos taken of the room the other day now present on his device (technology is amazing), he has enough to be able to draw Winnie the Pooh in near-perfect detail... in grey pencil, of course, because he doesn't have anything coloured.
For some extra flair he adds some vanilla scent to it, taking a small bit from his incense ingredients. Pooh is holding Sprite up in a toast with a slice of cake in his other hand, a party cone on his head.
Happy birthday! - Logan is written in perfect 1800's handwriting. This card is slipped under her front door for her to find whenever it's most convenient. ]
text | un: temeluchus
Swigging from a whisky bottle, she finds the card under her door not long after he's delivered it, frowning suspiciously for a few moments before she decides to pick it up and open it.
The faint scent of vanilla. A birthday card. She blinks at the sight, trying to process it. Someone has actually sat and taken the time to... make her this. For her. Shit. Logan made her this. Well... shit. She's... kinda struggling with this.
Tears pricking her eyes, she very gently places it on her coffee table and sits, staring at it for a few moments, broken only by the occasion swig of whiskey. He made her a card. For her birthday.
Finally, she texts him: ]
hey
so like
thanks.
it's the dumbest thing i've ever got. like cute dumb. but i like it.
yeah. thanks.
sobs weakly..............
Hope today was OK. [ He knows better than to expect "good" from Deerington. ] You celebrate a little?
sorry not sorry for that
been alright i guess. [ he'd be absolutely right to. ] if sleeping counts as celebrating consider me partied out.
but nah. i got booze. it's fine.
[ also drugs. but she has a feel that detail is best left unsaid. ]
text; un: price is right
happy birthday, cryptid
no subject
it's either 23 or 25 but who the fuck knows not me
haha cheers tho
text; un: kyouken
It's the good stuff, so I'd pick it up before someone else nabs it.
no subject
i knew you were sound as fuck. thanks majima. time to get me to church.
Sometime around the 25th, a Delivery Dog arrives with the following
-A nice bottle of classy wine.
-A block of rather nice walnut wood.
There's a note attached: ]
I didn't know you were into wood carvin'! How about that?