not saying im doing any better // p - beck

[valo-kas]

“[color=salmon]ehehegh,” the sound that left them was akin to a small stalling car, laughter impeded by a net of rosy moisture. “[color=salmon]like that’s hard?” fortunately for them, the personality valo-kas was stuck stagnating in had bypassed self-conscious hatred of their appearance in order to sink straight into an earnest and vicious acceptance of it. not everyone could be beautiful, or even just average looking. that wasn’t how the world was and, despite their foggy memory, valo-kas was positive that they had this world thing pretty figured out.

“[color=salmon]yeah, and? you’re dead.” ah, the ultimate trump card. you’re dead, na-na-na. simplicity, thy name is valo-kas. oh, that these too, too sick burns would flourish. they blinked, their third eyelid twitching a split second faster than the lids of their normal eyes, and shook with another laugh. “[color=salmon]’sides, if the worst thing about me’s a little bit of goo then i’m doing pretty good, i think.” the worst thing about valo-kas was absolutely not just a little bit of goo. they knew that. but nobody liked it when their conversational companion unbuckled an admission of unknown duration’s worth of accumulated faults and insecurities. dumbass brainlessness and the perceived inability to be self-aware was one of their many charms, after all. valo wouldn’t jeopardize that.