2019-09-07 - Knight of Pentacles, Reversed

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : You missed my turn on stage last night. 🙁 🙁

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : How'd it go? Gunna make a career change? 🙂

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Maybe! Tips weren't bad :laughing:

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Pretty much fucking killed it, obvs.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Hey mom, hey dad. Dropping out of college to dance with my tits out!

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Obviously. Dancing seems to be the big money maker in town these days. Or maybe it's always been.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : You start studying small town economics suddenly?

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : A guys gotta eat. 🙂 Though not for dancing from me. Never learned how. Taking lessons, though!

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Learning is for suckers. Just throw yourself at it.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Tits out, obvs.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Depends on who is teaching you! ... and I thought it was something different out for guys.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Do you not have nipples????

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Do nipples = tits?! Does this mean I need a bra?? Man. The things my parents didn't teach me. Between this and shaving, I'm lucky I'm not a long bearded, saggy titted guy.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Not all tits need a bra. wtf

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : ... I'm not sure how you get me off on these tangeants. Tits out to dance. Check. 🙂

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : I don't think any of this was tangential.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : But yeah, tits-out dancing is best dancing.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Whatcha think of stripperina?

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : I think you can come up with a better stage name than that.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Okay? Echo I guess? I really can't figure out a way to start that portmanteau with the ballet part of ballerina...

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Never seen anything quite like it. Definately a turn on. Also appreciated the artistic elements that went into it. Creativity is always a ++

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Huh. Alright.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : What did you think?

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : That Echo's gotta have some fucked up something in her history to end up here when she dances like that 😃

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : I mean. Either that or a sick grandma.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : How many people in Gray Harbor have you met that you don't think the same thing about? 😛 ... not dancing specifically. But lets face it. This place collects oddities like Echos or mes or whatever.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Most of the people I know grew up here 😛

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Here because this is where we are.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Where are things are.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Where our people are.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Ignore that up there. I know my words!

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : And sometimes you know what order to put them in! And yeah. But how many of us from here are 'normal' too. We all have our quirks! Besides, Echo is the second stripper I've met who has a love of ballet.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : :eyeroll:

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Fiiiiiiine.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : What's your mysterious backstory?

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Where are the bodies hidden?

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : FWIW? Totally normal right here.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Play your cards right and sometime I might show you where I got my inspiration from. It's... not normal. And you? Are not normal. As your brother says... 'Lucifer was an angel, too'.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Being awesome is not abnormal.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : There are way more awesome people in the world than people think.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Also: that's a bullshit answer.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : You're the one who wants to prove abnormality. What's it gotta do with my cards?

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : But that gives me an idea. SEC!!

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Just cause I won't share it with you immediately doesn't mean it's bullshit. 😛 I'm not giving you everything right away. Live with it.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Bullshit is you putting it back on me, kitten.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Not putting anything back on you. You asked the question, not me. I didn't say I had anything to prove. Don't believe me about being abnormal? That's your problem, not mine!

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : I mean, it's your problem if you want me to believe you are 😛

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : ANYWAY

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : [image: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3a/8c/5a/3a8c5a701c36c829bd02aafe8e37f2e2.jpg - That, but upside down and without all the weird flowers around it. Just the card. With hints of a white-and-rainbow quilt beneath it.]

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Cards say that you are obsessive af.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : That you can't stop even if you wanted.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Don't know how.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Oh, darling. I learned long ago not to give a fuck about what other people wanted to believe about me. 🙂 I'd really be crazy by now if I got wrapped around that tree.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Huh.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Like. Right down to a physiological level. Itchy itchy.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Probably sketching. I get twitchy when I can't. Only way I've found as a good outlet, why I spend all my time with it. Certainly counts as an obsession.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : I bet it's more than that.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : That's the outlet but what's the source?

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : :thinking:

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : (dots of writing pop up for quite some time, far more time spent than what is actually typed out.) People. Places. Scenes. Often idle. Sometimes /that/ itch.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Why?

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : That's the bodies, darling. And not something that comes across in texts.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Right.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : So.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : I guess we were both right.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : You and my cards.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Looks like it.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Point conceded. Victory to Rink.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : (It's a bit of time before he responds. Ten of fifteen minutes). So. What was your favorite dance of the night? Besides yours.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Double Trouble. Nicole. Totally biased. I helped make all that magic happen.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : I saw. You were buying a lot of booze for her last night, looked like.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Not just for her.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : It was the cinnamon shit Joey bought her later that did her in.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : She seems like nice peeps. Good to see people looking out for her. You know, in that daring to get naked in public way.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Helping her get out more and have fun kinda way, thank you.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Nothing but heroics, honey.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : I think you need a stronger wire to hold up that heavy halo of yours.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : My ego's enough on its own 😉

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Speaking of. I'm pondering creating a comic. Not like... public consumption. And no, not /that/ sort of thing. Just ran into a cast of characters that have inspired ... well. Did Corey tell you about the one I drew for him? I still need to mail it to him.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : First. It is totally okay for porn to be public. #NoStigma

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Second. If not porn then why not public?

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Third. Nah. Don't think so. But things have been pretty hectic at home since classes started up again.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : img:it's a capture of a sketch, the setting something similar to what one would think of a mad scientist. Except in the bubbling jars, instead of brains, there are vegetables, and fruits, and blobs of meat. More equipment bubbles, and there is a figure in a white lab coat. Corey. He's holding a test tube in one hand, a big kitchen knife in the other, and even has a utility belt that probably holds a combination of spices and tools of a mad cook, like a turkey basting injector:

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : And not public because I'm not sure how the people that inspired it would feel about it. 😛

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Yeah, that's my brother.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Uh. You ask them?

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : You and your asking. I know, I know. That's how I get what I want.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Always works for me.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : So. Mind if I put your likeness in a comic?

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Sure.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : You're just saying that to prove you are right about asking. 🙂 I joke! It's appreciated.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Even if that was the case, it's agreement. Your win. 😉

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Contrary fucker. I know you knew what I meant.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : 🙂

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Send me Corey's address so I can drop off his? Didn't get his number.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Like home address?

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Yes. Want to drop the physical copy off. Images always... :scrunchy face:

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Ask him then?

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Totally not cool to give out other people's info, man.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : I just said I didn't get his number. Nevermind. I'll figure it out.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : Oh shit. Yeah. I'll tell him. I can pass on your number to him with your permission? 😛

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Yeah.

(TXT to Dylan) Sparrow : K. Done.

(TXT to Sparrow) Dylan : Thx.