etraya | CHIRPER

Entry tags:

CHIRPER

⏵ CHIRPER ⏴Welcome to our bi-monthly CHIRPER post!

There are a few ways characters can interact with this:

Characters receive a notification to please fill out the form, which is fully optional.
When forms are not filled out, they are filled out by the companion bots of Etraya! This means that while the character themself is not choosing to play with CHIRPER, their player still can.
Other characters can be prompted to fill out their friends' profiles for them.
Alternatively, they choose not to fill out the form, and it remains unfilled!

This is just a fun little way of expanding CR. For those who do post a top level, CHIRPER toplevels are worth five extra points regardless of if they are put up willingly by the character themselves. These five extra points do apply to the 25 maximum per month.

Once characters' profiles are up, other characters will be given the option of giving them a "like" or a "dislike" (using ✓ and ✕ symbols in the subject line of the comment) but they can also provide an answer as to why they gave that answer! Or just respond to the contents of their profile, +1ing the fact that if Barnabas were to get laid more often, maybe he would be less of a sourpuss.

AURORA

NAME ▷	Aurora
AGE ▷	2
STAR SIGN ▷	Aquarius
STATUS ▷	x
INTERESTS ▷	Reading, walking, construction.

Hello. My name is Aurora. My duty is to oversee your comfort and the daily workings of Etraya, as well as provide information for upcoming missions.

Please let me know if you have any questions.

✓ ✕

<body><center><table style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 2;"><tr><td width="380" align="center"><big><big><b>USERNAME</b></big></big>
        <img src="IMAGE LINK" style="width: 245px; border-radius: 15px; border: 1px solid #7F7F7F; box-shadow: #8D8D8D 1px 1px 1px;">
<table style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 2;">
            <tr>
                <td><b>NAME ▷</b></td><td> CHARACTER NAME </td>
            </tr>
            <tr>
                <td><b>AGE ▷</b></td><td> CHARACTER AGE</td>
            </tr>
            <tr>
                <td><b>STAR SIGN ▷</b></td><td> CHARACTER STAR SIGN </td>
            </tr>
            <tr>
                <td><b>STATUS ▷</b></td><td> CHARACTER RELATIONSHIP STATUS </td>
         
            </tr>
            <tr>
                <td><b>INTERESTS ▷</b></td><td> INTERESTS (keep this short please!)  </td>
            </tr>
        </table>
        <div align="justify"> INSERT CHARACTER BLURB HERE </div>
        <tr><td><center><span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>  <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span></div></center></td></tr></td></tr>
    </div>

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You and Sumo will NOT return in fifteen minutes with a scone

[Connor is a bit confused now.]

Thirty minutes.

Try again there buddy

An hour.

[Hank was expecting forty-five minutes, so y’know what? Great.]

That’s more like it

Keep Sumo outta trouble

You too

Of course.

[And then an hour on the dot, Connor is nudging Sumo through the door after unlatching his lead. In Connor's other hand is a plain scone, with a couple optional sauces, sweet and savory, on the side.]

[The front room is perhaps ominously devoid of Hank. There is, however, a whiskey bottle on the table.

Hank evidently had quite a tall glass of whiskey.

The man himself is laying in the hallway leading to the bedroom.]

[Connor allows Sumo to go settle in his bed as he follows the trail of alcohol to the hallway. He frowns and sets the scone on the table before moving to kneel beside Hank.]

Hank. Wake up.

I’m awake. Jesus.

[Blinking up at Connor as he lies on his back.]

Was just resting.

You're laying on the floor in the hallway. Do you need assistance to the bed?

Nah. You wanna know what I need?

[Hank raises his arm. Waves it vaguely.]

A scone.

[That's right. Connor is a dog-walking, scone-delivering android.]

Do you want it at the table? It could be messy.

Here is fine.

[???]

I think the table would be more suitable.

[It's that same tone that foisted Hank into a bathtub with cold water once upon a time.]

[Hank cottons on relatively quick.]

Don’t you dare, Connor. I like the floor.

[Patting the ground beside him.]

It’s a nice floor.

[Conner scoots in closer and tries to get an arm around Hank's back.]

The table is perfectly designed for eating.

Yeah? And the floor is “perfectly designed” for laying.

[Still, Hank lets Connor start to peel him off the floor — until he remembers his injuries, and how the whole piggyback thing went.

He shakes his head, slowly sitting up.]

It’s cute and all that you wanna carry me like a baby, but I can walk. If I gotta.

[It does hurt to lift Hank, when the pressure on the wiring gets too much but, Connor perseveres. Unless he's stopped, Connor will ease Hank to his feet and keep a steady touch.]

It's alright to ask for help, Hank.

Said I don’t need help, Connor. You do more than enough.

[Hank lets Connor help him up, since he seems so insistent on it. Really, he’s fine. See? Standing on his own two feet. The floor had just been appealing for various reasons.]

[Connor keeps a hand at Hank's back, just in case, as they head into the front room and the scone! Once he's certain Hank can handle himself, Connor takes a side track to the whiskey bottle, intending to pour it down the drain.]

[Hank grabs the delightful, soft scone once he’s sitting down. Raising it to his mouth, then —]

Hey, hey, hey. The fuck you doing with that, Connor?

[Connor upends the bottle of whiskey over the sink and watches it flood out.]

Based on my scans, you have consumed the yearly allowance of alcohol.

Connor, what the fuck? Fuck your scans, I’m not even drunk. You think a glass — [okay, a very large glass] — is enough to get me drunk?

[Hank shuffles toward Connor. Tries to grab the bottle from him, even if to save a little of the booze.]

[Connor raises the bottle higher, even if it means some of the whiskey splashes onto his jacket as it pours out.]

If you're not drunk, why were you laying in the hallway?

‘Cause I’m buzzed, Connor. And I’m happy.

[He doesn’t want to fight about it if Connor really is determined to pour out his whiskey, so Hank just sadly watches it pour down the drain.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication

cn: intoxication