Swallow Your Affection

Investigation

"Hmmm.... I don't know if I like that pose. Do something more... iconic-"

"I don't know what could get more iconic then this Tommy."

Here you are.

Another evening, sun starting to dip past the horizon line.

It was a day after Techno and Tommy went out adventuring, which makes it a strictly 'relax' day.

No intense action, no high speed chases through illegal land.

Just a cozy house and good company.

Techno is somewhere in the attic, either sleeping or enchanting, and Tommy and you are hanging out near the fireplace.

Drawing.

Apparently Tommy's new passion project was to 'become a connoisseur of the fine arts and persue the limitless potential within himself'.

You call bullshit, he clearly just wanted to bug you, but are you here? Posing? In the most awkward position? Yes.

Of course you are.

Why would you want to be anywhere but here.

Is Tommy nitpicking your pose? Of course he is.

You flinch when an eraser hits your face- bouncing off your forehead before shooting off into the void that is the floor.

You fix your sights onto Tommy, who's brow was furrowed at you with its usual bossy crunkle, "Bitch- I need something with more passion- you look like a crumpled tissue-"

"Well fuck you too-" you say, uncrumpling from your weird, curled up postion to instead cross your legs and put your hands on your hips to stare directly at Tommy.

He squints, charcoal pencil scribbling a mile a minute.

"Hmmm- yes yes- this pose has more emotion behind it-"

You harump, but keep staring at him, trying your best to maintain the look you first fixed him with.

For the fine arts.

He hums, and scribbles a little more, before grunting and saying, "You lost the passion again-"

"Arrghhh!" You moan, flopping backwards onto the floor out of spite and sitting there, "Oh great and wise Tommy, when will I have this 'passion' that you so speak of."

"Hhmm, in due time my pupil. And maybe when you stop being a little bitch."

You let out a little laugh at that, not adjusting your pose, and deciding that laying down on the ground was the best.

It goes silent, a few scribbles here, and a few scribbles there, before a loud, THUMP- comes from upstairs.

Like someone fell off something, or someone punched a wall.

So much for relaxing.

"Uhhhh- should we investigate?" You ask, peering up at Tommy.

"No." He grumbles, "It's art time."

"Mmmmmmm-" you hum, ready to interject that it'd probably be good to investigate, before rushed footsteps walk across the attic and Techno comes sliding down the ladder.

"Uuuuuhhhhhhh-" Techno says, glancing at the both of you before holding up his communicator, "UUUUuuuuuHHhhhh-"

You squint, but can't make out the words from where you're at.

"Spit it out bitch-" Tommy bites.

"Dream's coming here right now...?" Techno mumbles.

"Uhhhhhhhh-" you say, sitting up off the floor.