Post by Katpride on Dec 23, 2021 6:21:59 GMT
[attr="Style","background-image:url(https://64.media.tumblr.com/a7c6546cf9730f521b67746b1bc7cd40/06dd60cd73dc3354-b5/s1280x1920/4f82878117f9a0a111d25b3d3b6bc89a8ed56078.jpg);background-size:100%;background-repeat:repeat-y;padding:20px;"]
[attr="Style","background-color:#313131;padding:15px;"]
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Ding.
“Uuugh.”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Lark blearly opens their eyes, glaring at nothing in particular from the comfort of their blanket cocoon. Why on Earth would they set an alarm? Why is their alarm clock going off when they can literally time travel? This is the cruelest injustice.
Ding. Ding.
An arm emerges from their cocoon, and they slap at their bedside table until they can find their phone, pulling it into the darkness with them and squinting at the bright display with a grumpy frown. The one time they actually managed to sleep in an actual bed-
Ding. “(Hehe.)”
Wait… that isn’t an alarm. That’s… not a sound. It’s just in their head. It may sound like a windchime being thrashed about, but that’s… what is it, again? What does it mean?
Their mind is slow to catch up as they curl into a tighter spiral, breathing stiflingly warm air as they consider the phone in their hand. They blink slowly, eyes drifting to the date, just below the big numbers reading 09:27am. Why do they need the time on their phone, anyways? They already know it.
A second later, they shoot up, eyes wide. “Oh sh- shoot.”
It’s today, isn’t it?
Yep. There are several Larks in their bedroom - not the birds, the them. They all seem to be around the same age - eight, if they had to guess, but they don’t have to guess because they know because they’ve done this before, only on the other end. For a moment, everyone is frozen, several sets of gray eyes watching the older Lark intently. One of them is poised halfway out the door, hand on the doorknob. Several of them hold pieces of costumes, colorful cloth strewn about in a trail behind them across the already messy floor.
“Get back here!” They call, but it’s in vain. The Larks scatter - eight of them running right out the door while a couple of them stay behind to throw themselves at the older Lark.
God. Damn it. Little arms wrap around their shoulders, giggles bright and loud in their ear, and another weight settles across their legs that’s all knobby knees and bony elbows. Lark can feel themself aging - quite literally, they have the sense for that sort of thing. They’re still in their pajamas. Hell, they’re still in their bed. Today is going to be a long day.
They sigh, a bone-deep weariness dragging them back down. They wrap an arm around the Lark currently playing at becoming their scarf, making sure they aren’t hurt as they flomp down onto the bed. Anytime they try to time travel, they’re gonna have to deal with two hangers-on, aren’t they? Of course they are.
At least they don’t have to round them up entirely alone, they muse, bringing up their phone in their free hand. His number is at the top of their speed dial - they don’t ask why, it just is, and has been for a while. Possibly since before they properly met.
The phone rings. And rings. Then, it clicks as someone picks up. “Hey, Cassidy. Slight problem.”
Once that call is done with, they consider their phone once more, hesitating a moment before opening a chat with a relatively new addition. Hey, she's probably in town, right? Doesn't she go to school in Millennium?
It's a bit awkward typing with only one hand, but they're a teenager (kind of). They know how to navigate technology. They send Lily the text before they can think better of it, and then lie there to contemplate how exactly they're supposed to walk around with the lemmings attached to them.
Roughly half an hour later, Lark stands on a street corner, squinting against the glare of sunlight as they wait for the cavalry to arrive. They’ve donned a wizard robe at some unknown point - stars and fluffy trim and all, the excess fabric dragging on the ground behind them. Other than that, they're still in their pajamas - which don’t look very different from their normal clothes, honestly - just a too-large t-shirt and pajama pants emblazoned with constellations and dogs in astronaut helmets. They’re pretty sure the robe wasn’t really their decision, but the day has barely started and they’re already finding it difficult to muster the energy to care about their unconventional wardrobe.
One of the younger Larks has wrapped themself around Lark’s leg, so that every time they take a step they have to drag the additional weight of a moderately sized child. The other Lark clings to their hand, but is mostly behaving for the moment. Is it too much to hope that maybe they’ve tired themself out?
Lark checks the phone in their free hand again, watching in their periphery as two young silver-haired menaces run out of the movie theater with popcorn and candy piled high in their arms. They don’t seem to be chased by any sort of security, so they guess that they get around to paying for that at some point. Another young Lark is scribbling on the sidewalk with multicolored chalk, getting underfoot for several innocent passersby.
From a scan of the street, they can see two more Larks teaming up to scale a statue, a lone Lark skipping around tagging whatever they can reach with colorful stickers, and the final two children… out of sight, currently. Wonderful. Probably in the bakery or the comic book shop, though it’s difficult to remember all of their exploits. Where did they even get all of that energy?
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Ding.
“Uuugh.”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Lark blearly opens their eyes, glaring at nothing in particular from the comfort of their blanket cocoon. Why on Earth would they set an alarm? Why is their alarm clock going off when they can literally time travel? This is the cruelest injustice.
Ding. Ding.
An arm emerges from their cocoon, and they slap at their bedside table until they can find their phone, pulling it into the darkness with them and squinting at the bright display with a grumpy frown. The one time they actually managed to sleep in an actual bed-
Ding. “(Hehe.)”
Wait… that isn’t an alarm. That’s… not a sound. It’s just in their head. It may sound like a windchime being thrashed about, but that’s… what is it, again? What does it mean?
Their mind is slow to catch up as they curl into a tighter spiral, breathing stiflingly warm air as they consider the phone in their hand. They blink slowly, eyes drifting to the date, just below the big numbers reading 09:27am. Why do they need the time on their phone, anyways? They already know it.
A second later, they shoot up, eyes wide. “Oh sh- shoot.”
It’s today, isn’t it?
Yep. There are several Larks in their bedroom - not the birds, the them. They all seem to be around the same age - eight, if they had to guess, but they don’t have to guess because they know because they’ve done this before, only on the other end. For a moment, everyone is frozen, several sets of gray eyes watching the older Lark intently. One of them is poised halfway out the door, hand on the doorknob. Several of them hold pieces of costumes, colorful cloth strewn about in a trail behind them across the already messy floor.
“Get back here!” They call, but it’s in vain. The Larks scatter - eight of them running right out the door while a couple of them stay behind to throw themselves at the older Lark.
God. Damn it. Little arms wrap around their shoulders, giggles bright and loud in their ear, and another weight settles across their legs that’s all knobby knees and bony elbows. Lark can feel themself aging - quite literally, they have the sense for that sort of thing. They’re still in their pajamas. Hell, they’re still in their bed. Today is going to be a long day.
They sigh, a bone-deep weariness dragging them back down. They wrap an arm around the Lark currently playing at becoming their scarf, making sure they aren’t hurt as they flomp down onto the bed. Anytime they try to time travel, they’re gonna have to deal with two hangers-on, aren’t they? Of course they are.
At least they don’t have to round them up entirely alone, they muse, bringing up their phone in their free hand. His number is at the top of their speed dial - they don’t ask why, it just is, and has been for a while. Possibly since before they properly met.
The phone rings. And rings. Then, it clicks as someone picks up. “Hey, Cassidy. Slight problem.”
Once that call is done with, they consider their phone once more, hesitating a moment before opening a chat with a relatively new addition. Hey, she's probably in town, right? Doesn't she go to school in Millennium?
It's a bit awkward typing with only one hand, but they're a teenager (kind of). They know how to navigate technology. They send Lily the text before they can think better of it, and then lie there to contemplate how exactly they're supposed to walk around with the lemmings attached to them.
Lark: hey if u arent busy
Lark: adn also if u r like alright with kids
Lark: meet me here just whenever works
[Address sent]
Lark: adn also if u r like alright with kids
Lark: meet me here just whenever works
[Address sent]
---
Roughly half an hour later, Lark stands on a street corner, squinting against the glare of sunlight as they wait for the cavalry to arrive. They’ve donned a wizard robe at some unknown point - stars and fluffy trim and all, the excess fabric dragging on the ground behind them. Other than that, they're still in their pajamas - which don’t look very different from their normal clothes, honestly - just a too-large t-shirt and pajama pants emblazoned with constellations and dogs in astronaut helmets. They’re pretty sure the robe wasn’t really their decision, but the day has barely started and they’re already finding it difficult to muster the energy to care about their unconventional wardrobe.
One of the younger Larks has wrapped themself around Lark’s leg, so that every time they take a step they have to drag the additional weight of a moderately sized child. The other Lark clings to their hand, but is mostly behaving for the moment. Is it too much to hope that maybe they’ve tired themself out?
Lark checks the phone in their free hand again, watching in their periphery as two young silver-haired menaces run out of the movie theater with popcorn and candy piled high in their arms. They don’t seem to be chased by any sort of security, so they guess that they get around to paying for that at some point. Another young Lark is scribbling on the sidewalk with multicolored chalk, getting underfoot for several innocent passersby.
From a scan of the street, they can see two more Larks teaming up to scale a statue, a lone Lark skipping around tagging whatever they can reach with colorful stickers, and the final two children… out of sight, currently. Wonderful. Probably in the bakery or the comic book shop, though it’s difficult to remember all of their exploits. Where did they even get all of that energy?
[attr="Style","background-image:url(https://64.media.tumblr.com/a7c6546cf9730f521b67746b1bc7cd40/06dd60cd73dc3354-b5/s1280x1920/4f82878117f9a0a111d25b3d3b6bc89a8ed56078.jpg);background-size:100%;background-repeat:repeat-y;padding:20px;"]
[attr="Style","background-color:#313131;padding:15px;"]
Welcome to Larkageddon. We’ve got a few rules around these parts.
Limited to 5 participants total (including myself)
Currently filled spots: 5/5 (illirica , Cassidy )
Currently open slots: 0/5
Rules:
OOC: Totally Important Very Crucial Info (Read Me!)
Welcome to Larkageddon. We’ve got a few rules around these parts.
Limited to 5 participants total (including myself)
Currently filled spots: 5/5 (illirica , Cassidy )
Currently open slots: 0/5
Rules:
- No child violence! DO NOT harm these children. Peaceful subduing only.
- Any power level acceptable, within reason. Again, this isn’t a fighting event.
- Takes place in NYC, starting around 10:00am.
- Let me know if you want to join! I'll be available on Discord for any questions.
