Aim died.
I've killed no less than two dozen tiny frigging bettles today.
The perktastic sitar song made me sad.
Screw it. When the mini golf place opens, I'm going to go play DDR, I don't care if my legs do hate me for it, it'll fix whatever the hell's wrong with me.
Apologies to all fandomites. I'm in the process of, slowly, editing a cowritten thing I did with
icedark_elf. It'll be up. Eventually.