Who: Karkat and absolutely anybody else.
When: Wednesday to Saturday.
Where: Biodome ish.
Summary: BIODOME WING FLYING PARTY LOG. Come in. Make threads. Tag other threads. Action or prose. It'll be awesome.
Rating: PG-13, and who knows what else.
Warnings: Horrifying wingfic antics.
(
She said we need more thrust. )
Comments 357
This simple, if completely untrue thought is the one that Grell loves best to indulge in while she bears the wings of deep grey. She has been working diligently to learn how to fly with them, until she can soar around with some amount of grace with clasped hands, playing out some form of drama in her head.
And occasionally, simply doing silly things in the air that half the time send her crashing down for the fun of it. The pain of getting them is long forgotten in the sheer joy of flight, that ever so elusive common dream, and so she has decided to get as much use out of the wings as she can.
Perhaps she'll also take note of the colours for her fellow subjects.]
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Currently, he's sitting in the upper branches of a tree, trying to look casual, like he's not kind of stuck and like his crutches aren't propped against a tree on the other side of the biodome.]
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