A brief interlude for story fantasy hour, courtesy of Roxane Laland:
'Well, you can demonstrate.' She throws down her controller dramatically and they die horribly in game because of her great and horrible sacrifice, all in the name of pursuing some attraction that might not even last the duration of their Sburb session. Drinks are accidentally spilled everywhere.
Just like her stories, if it had happened.
Something about throwing Gentaro in the tank seems to make him a little bolder - maybe it's the heavy artillery.
Roxane actually holds back in her merciless slaughter to respond, tracking her character back and forth across the screen. Occasionally, she glimpses in his direction, but otherwise she's watching the avatar path back and forth across the map as she talks.
"Me? Nah. You kinda got a glimpse of the sordid geometries of my friendships, right? Everybody likes somebody but the somebody's never me. Sea-ngle lady here." Usually, it doesn't even bother her. People are gonna like who they're gonna like, right?
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'Well, you can demonstrate.' She throws down her controller dramatically and they die horribly in game because of her great and horrible sacrifice, all in the name of pursuing some attraction that might not even last the duration of their Sburb session. Drinks are accidentally spilled everywhere.
Just like her stories, if it had happened.
Something about throwing Gentaro in the tank seems to make him a little bolder - maybe it's the heavy artillery.
Roxane actually holds back in her merciless slaughter to respond, tracking her character back and forth across the screen. Occasionally, she glimpses in his direction, but otherwise she's watching the avatar path back and forth across the map as she talks.
"Me? Nah. You kinda got a glimpse of the sordid geometries of my friendships, right? Everybody likes somebody but the somebody's never me. Sea-ngle lady here." Usually, it doesn't even bother her. People are gonna like who they're gonna like, right?