Porcupine has announced a switch to it/its pronouns while its surrounding specimens attempt an unknowingly shared recall of what its previous pronoun set was, so fitting is the new pronoun set for its attachment style, conversational demeanor, media proclivities, animalian sensibilities, social media biographies alleging to quote "not be a person," general air, and hairstyle.
Shard, a Prozac-amplified 3 shots of Absolut deep, has located a podium and begun an incisive oratory with surprising forthrightness on the antediluvian nature of all organized religion. A crowd begins to form, to listen more closely. A phone begins ringing, its owner picks up, says "Hello?" with a concerned tone, and begins hastening towards a less occupied area. A vapor cloud of unknown origin connects with a committed couple whose relationship is gearing up for a 1-week anniversary date. An unsupervised bowling ball covered in olive oil rolls through the kitchen, parting an unshoed group of people. Valentine is dissolving 2mg of Nightly Blues, (Tried & True,) sublingual.
Lit candles are placed on the podium as Shard's rhetoric is joined by gesticulations. Valentine assumes that whomsoever she may have just heard out of the corner of her earshot saying "sublingual is essentially placebo" was probably talking about something other than her Babygirl Blues. Alain, a transgender woman who after transitioning declined the traditional name-change and elected instead to employ the use of a homograph, who now almost ritualistically explains to online cohorts that it's "pronounced like the Seinfeld character" and experiences much confusion and really truly just needs to come up with a better shorthand, Alain does, and she (Alain) finds herself now on a corner loveseat at this party attempting to use black permanent marker on all sides of a found Rubik's cube for reasons mysterious even to herself.
Exchanges are made of opinions, phone numbers, Discord usernames, Zelle information, oral stimulation appliances, prescription medications, gum, legally binding agreements, and glances. An attempt is made to pick up the kitchen's bowling ball, and a dent is made unceremoniously in the floor. Celice returns from the bathroom with a running nose and an amended relationship with the person she is still certain she has never seen before, after a series of affirmations to "never do anything like that again," after smelling (her internal pun sensors notwithstanding) the chance to acquire some free nasally applied Social Uninhibitors, afterwards of a conflict-escalation-and-subsequent-resolution-type interaction from this person whom she, Celice, assumed she was at least four levels of cognition more advanced than, and therefore figured herself as being able to achieve the acquisition of something nice for herself in a way that both parties would find appealing, or if not capable of such a subtle suggestion, at least considered herself as being at least less entirely lexically impotent than this stranger. Which can, itself, pass in some social groups as social worth. Celice did not consider herself to believe that this thesauratic tendency of hers or capability of planting ideas in people with which she herself had first come up really constituted an acuity holding any real moral worth. She just considered that maybe she could get a few more things she wanted more quickly than the average person. A fact of which she thought about often.
Jasper F shoulder checks a twink he has about 2 inches on, and replies a little too instantly and a little too excitedly to a query of "What's your problem, man?" with an almost giddy "Do you want to fight?"
A Bluetooth speaker uses a British accent to inform anyone who will listen that it is at low battery. Low and consistent chanting can be heard from Shard's corner of the room while 3 simultaneous videos are filmed in portrait orientation.