[037] come out of the garden baby, you'll catch your death in the fog

[notafuckingnut]

This place is fucking awesome. Why couldn't we go here before? I mean, there's just...they've got everything. And I mean everything. This almost makes up for all that other shit.

[Seriously. He is digging this place entirely too much; BRING ON THE EVERYTHING, he's like a dog in a candle store right now.]

Hey, Drac. We still on for...? You know. I'm sure they got all kinds of places here. Good places, too.

[PRIVATE to Seth]

So what's the plan here?

Comments

[spam]

[notafuckingnut]

Yeah, well. You got that at least.

[He smirks, and starts poking around for what else is there, looking over when Seth trails off.]

...Okay, now that's just creepy.

[spam]

[alwayshasaplan]

Yeah, I'm thinking I need three legs or less. [He drops it back onto the pile and moves on, finally finding the section with his size and number of legs.]

[spam]

[notafuckingnut]

Might help, yeah. Heh.

[He pokes through the rack he's picked a little more, pulling out something that looks like it's probably orange. Though it's really more like several shades of orange.]

Y'know, I'm almost not even surprised anymore. Should probably be worried.

[And back into the rack it goes. There has to be SOMETHING decent in here.]

[spam]

[alwayshasaplan]

Heh heh heh--OO, all right, fancy-ass space fabric. [He picks up a pair of pseudojeans and reads the label.] Motorcycling pants, future style. Says these things are abrasion-proof and fireproof.