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Entry tags:
this place is full of bugs
Who: Butterfly and everyone who wants to get trolled by a bug
When: Afternoon
Where: The Plaza, near the coral
Style: like a crazy Broadway nightmare
Status: Open
[In the middle of the Plaza, near the coral, there's a small, purple butterfly with sodden wings. He's crouched close to the stones, his wings laying flat and useless on either side of his body, but he's largely unconcerned with his plight. It's warm here, and bright, and his wings will dry out soon enough. He's far enough away from the center of things that no one has noticed him yet, and once his wings are a little drier and not so heavy, he'll crawl up the side of the coral and get out of the way of hurrying feet and the possible range of any roving cats. In the meantime, though, he'll stay where he is, feeling the sun warm his wings and lighten them, and if anyone passes close enough or bends down towards him, they'll hear him singing, softly and quietly, to himself.]
What's this? What's this?
There's color everywhere!
What's this? What's this?
There's white things in the air...
[His wings shiver, and he laughs, a light, tinkling sound, and starts climbing the coral.]
Who am I?
Two four six oh one!
When: Afternoon
Where: The Plaza, near the coral
Style: like a crazy Broadway nightmare
Status: Open
[In the middle of the Plaza, near the coral, there's a small, purple butterfly with sodden wings. He's crouched close to the stones, his wings laying flat and useless on either side of his body, but he's largely unconcerned with his plight. It's warm here, and bright, and his wings will dry out soon enough. He's far enough away from the center of things that no one has noticed him yet, and once his wings are a little drier and not so heavy, he'll crawl up the side of the coral and get out of the way of hurrying feet and the possible range of any roving cats. In the meantime, though, he'll stay where he is, feeling the sun warm his wings and lighten them, and if anyone passes close enough or bends down towards him, they'll hear him singing, softly and quietly, to himself.]
What's this? What's this?
There's color everywhere!
What's this? What's this?
There's white things in the air...
[His wings shiver, and he laughs, a light, tinkling sound, and starts climbing the coral.]
Who am I?
Two four six oh one!