etraya | CHIRPER

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
CURRENT MOOD ▷	🙂
IF I WERE A DOG, I'D BE A ▷	Shetland Sheepdog, as I am a fast learner and a natural protector.

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="500" 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>CURRENT MOOD ▷</b></td><td> EMOJI FOR CURRENT MOOD </td>
            </tr>
            <tr>
               <td><b>IF I WERE A DOG, I'D BE A ▷</b></td><td> DOG BREED, AND REASONING </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

[It's odd hearing that phrasing from Hank. Things out of his control. How long has Hank blamed himself for Cole's death and he had just about as much control of the car.]

I'm not sure.

[Oh, god, was Robert fucking with him? Hank hopes not.

Lie to him about whatever! Just not Connor.]

Did something happen?

I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not.

Got yourself a bunch of smartasses, huh Connor?

[Hank doesn’t know Robert well, so he has no idea if he’s being genuine. But...]

If he were still pissed at you, I dunno if he’d go out of his way to talk to me.

[Although Robert did start out mocking Connor. But that just seems to be his default thing, like how Hank’s default is also some variation of asshole.]

I seem to attract them.

Like flies to honey, Connor.

You’re too good.

Maybe.

How about lasagna for dinner?

Just proving my point there, Con.

Lasagna sounds good. Whatever you’re up for trying out.

I haven't made anything with layers since your birthday. I wanted to try it again.

[That extra early birthday because Connor thought he would be gone by the time the real birthday came around.]

[That birthday, yeah. With the trash bag wrapping.

This endearing as fuck guy, huh?]

You confident in your layering, Connor?

[Hank’s poking fun. Wouldn’t be the end of the world if a lasagna ended up weird.]

I haven't tried it with pasta, but I assume the concept is similar.

Hell if I know. Probably.

I’d just slap together a store bought cake mix. Smother it in frosting.

[...And get a store bought lasagna, too.]

I don't see any issue with that.

Would you like a cake with the lasagna?

[Boy realized you can decorate with frosting when he passed the mart the other day.]

You don’t see any. What.

[No, Hank. No. Don’t question it. Accept Connor’s offer. Accept the cake.]

Yes

Yes I would like a cake with the lasagna

[Hank is being greedy here, but it goes along with the whole “support Connor’s interests” thing.

But it is greedy. Very greedy.]

[When Hank gets home, there is a cake on the table and a lasagna in the oven. The cake is painted what is probably the most hideous green imaginable, but there are bits of white, dark blue, and a deeper green to help shape out what may be the beginnings of a forest.

Connor himself is absolutely covered in frost speckles.]

Don't come in yet.

[Do it, come see this disaster zone.]

[When Hank gets to the apartment, he’s tossing his jacket on the back of the couch as Connor tells him not to come in.

Very ominous. And Hank does, in fact, head into the kitchen. There’s that familiar worry — is something wrong? Is Connor hurt? — but it’s more muted compared to how it was just a few weeks before.]

You in the mood for green today, huh?

[Hank is eyeing the cake. It’s... cute? In the way that Cole’s drawings were. Hank would stick those up on the fridge.

Eyes darting toward Connor, then:]

Do I need to hose you off, Connor?

If we were in Detroit, it would be close to Earth Day. [Connor looks upon his wretched creation and wipes some frosting off his nose. (Don't ask how it got there.]

So I thought we could celebrate it.

[But there is frosting in his hair, his eyelashes, on his nose and fingertips. He needs more than a hose.]

I'm afraid a hose may only be the start.

Earth Day, huh? And here I thought we were celebrating...

[Okay, he has no idea. Good health? Another day on Etraya? It feels less hellish with Connor here, anyway.]

Jesus, Connor. How the hell did you go and get frosting in your hair, huh? You look like Sumo after he’s plopped his ass in a mud puddle.

[Albeit much more colorful mud here.]

I thought there was a fly.

[Which really doesn't make sense because flies gather around organic material.]

I'll clean this up.

You thought there was a fly.

[Hank raises a brow. Lets his gaze sweep across the kitchen — is that frosting on the ceiling? — before he looks back at Connor.]

I mean, what? That fly come at you, Con?

[He starts tugging on drawers, looking for some manner of towel, and... a little washcloth won’t help much, but whatever. Dipping it in some water from the faucet, Hank turns back to Connor. Lips pursing, about to hand him the cloth before he starts dabbing at Connor’s face. Gently.]

I know the buzz is annoying, or whatever. [As if that explains... anything.] But damn. Really got you riled up, huh?

[Burn the whole apartment down. There's frosting on the ceiling, in the corners of the room. Just burn it all down and start over.

That said, Connor stands nice and still as Hank cleans him up. It's oddly nice to have Hank so close. What is this odd feeling in his chest?]

It reminded me of Carlos Ortiz's scene.

[Hank pauses, holding the cloth against Connor’s cheek.]

You, uh, doing okay?

[Connor doesn’t seem especially upset at the memory, but hell if Hank knows. He squints at him before trying to wipe at his frosting-encrusted hair.]

Jesus, I’ve got no idea what we’re gonna do about your hair. Or — [gaze turning to the ceiling] — any of that. I mean, hell. Guess we need a ladder, huh?

[Someone told him the companion bots can clean — enjoy cleaning, even, maybe? — so that might be an option. Hank has, admittedly, warmed up to the bots.

Especially now that Connor’s here and Hank feels less of a need to hate someone.]

[Connor stands as still as he can as Hank wipes him off. It's a bit embarrassing, which is an odd sensation in itself.]

I heard what I thought was a fly and it reminded me of Carlos Ortiz. [He's trying to explain, give him a moment.] I was afraid.

[Which is frankly bizarre to him, but he's got all these new emotions he's trying to work through.]

And that's when the icing ended up on the ceiling.

[Don't ask him. He's wearing the expression of The Guilty Dog again.]

A shower may be the best way to go.

Think you might need a bath, Connor. Good ol’ soak in the tub.

[Hank purses his lips. Rubbing at Connor’s head with the towel, and — yeah, he’s gonna need to wash his hair, at the very least.]

What were you scared of?

[It’s not condescending — or it’s not meant to be, anyway. Maybe Hank sounds a little tired, but that’s because he’s thinking about how Sumo might also need a bath. Maybe the little weird bots can help with that, too.]

I mean, what were you thinking was gonna happen?

I thought for a moment something happened to you.

[There may or may not be bits of frosting all of the apartment as Connor had rushed around looking for him. Only after continuing the conversation with Hank did it remind Connor that he was okay.]

I thought the flies could be coming from a corpse, your corpse.

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Connor getting all artsy with cake decoration 😳😳😳

fancy shmancy

Connor’s so cute help 🥹

he did his best okay also wow dw thanks for not posting this

perfect Connor icon for the mood tbh (also LMAO @ wretched creation)

guilty dog

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