Dirk: > Be the good boyfriend.

[sickheartbeats]

[It's VALENTINE'S MORNING, early as shit, but the apple of your eye has a tendency to rise at ungodly hours, so you're not surprised to find him in the kitchen barely past seven.

You're also not a fan of COMMERCIAL HOLIDAYS and ROMANCE ON DEMAND, but the two of you haven't been on a proper official date in a while, so you might as well. Surely he's bigger on the idea of chocolates and roses than you ever could be, being SUAVE ENGLISH, MAN OF HEARTTHROBS.]

Hey.
Sup.

Comments

[sickheartbeats]

Yeah. Sweet stuff.
I'll probably add an iron roast for the perfect steak pattern or whatever.
Since I now have some time to kill.

[fightingcargos]

Haha man that would be sweet.
Well! Im off.

[sickheartbeats]

Where to?

[fightingcargos]

Just a run.
I figure maybe itll get me out of this funk. That works sometimes.

[sickheartbeats]

Alright.
Let me know how it goes.
If you change your mind or anything.

[fightingcargos]

Sure!
Bye dirk.

[You step out. It's a beautiful day! A little breezy, and not too warm--perfect for a run around the perimeter.]

Jake: > Run.

[sickheartbeats]

[You watch him go and finally realize you've been picking at your bacon for five minutes. Maybe you'll just microwave it later. You have important things to do, like forging a grillage.

And stuff.

Jesus, did he ever sound bored. You almost hope it's because he's tired.]

[fightingcargos]

[Oh man, look at that tree! That thing is BEGGING for a treehouse. You know what you're gonna be up to tomorrow!]

[sickheartbeats]

[You don't come up with anything more awesome create with your sudden cesspool of free time, so you retreat to your workshop with measurements of your microwave and a pair of leather gloves -- fingers included.

Good thing you soundproofed this thing. You have to switch playlists before you start blaring music, because last you turned this thing on it was to work on a mixed tape for your boyfriend.

A world of whatever.

Sigh.]

[fightingcargos]

[You climb up the tree. It's so spacious! You can't quite see Boner City from here, but you do have a good view otherwise.]

[sickheartbeats]

[Nothing like some iron and fire to the sound of some GLITCH MOB REMIXED classic rock'n'roll. Sometimes sick rhymes don't cut the blacksmith mood.]

[You do this for an hour before you feel like taking a shower again, even thought it's only been five hours since your last.

Instead, you decide to check in with Jake.]

--timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT]--
TT: Hey.
TT: How are you doing?

[fightingcargos]

[You check your phone.]

[...Huh! That was... thirty minutes to yourself. Okay?]

GT: Oh hi!
GT: I found a really kickin tree.
GT: Im thinking about building a little something up here!
GT: Maybe just a platform.

[sickheartbeats]

TT: Productive.
Do I take that to mean you're feeling any better?

[fightingcargos]

GT: Sort of.
GT: Im probably going to take a nap when i get back.

[sickheartbeats]

TT: Good idea.
TT: I could probably use one, too.

[Dirk. What are you doing, Dirk. You're not even that tired.

Except suddenly your heart feels the part.]

[fightingcargos]

GT: Really?

[Some part of you suddenly doesn't want to take a nap. You dub this part of you "really dumb."]

GT: I guess you could always use more sleep huh?

[sickheartbeats]

TT: Yeah, I'm getting kind of cranky, hate to admit.
TT: If you take too long I'll get my snuggle on with Cal instead.

[fightingcargos]

GT: I might be out for a while honestly.
GT: I wanted to see if the arts and crafts hut has any proper planks.

[sickheartbeats]

TT: Ok.
TT: Cool.
TT: This round goes to the C-Man.

[fightingcargos]

GT: Say hello to him for me!

-- golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]--

[He really does need a nap, you think. Or you'd like him to need one.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You might not need a nap, but you do need a minute with your guardian. Unfortunately, the griddle is only half finished, so that will have to wait.]

[fightingcargos]

Jake: > Check for planks.

[In a minute. You like the quiet, up here.]