[ voice | sorry for party rocking ]

[amethysts]

Hey, Tranquilized!

I know you're all working on a calender, bUT by my mark it's Septemeber 10th. So in two days it's Miles Edgeworth's birthday. Active invites to anybody who knows he'd want him there, and if you're an a--a jerk trying to gatecrash I will hit you with a taser and some rebar. So don't. Especial invites to John Watson, Jack New York Face, Alayne Wolf Girl, Sirius I Won't Eat Your Dude Parts, Jenna Awesome Weed Lady, and Jane Jesse's Girl.

Tenth floor common area, unless anybody has a better place.

[filtered from miles edgeworth]

Does anyone know how to make a cake? Or like...punch? Or party food in general? I got decorations, just--I can't cook. I can pay. Like, a lot.

[open | amended later]

This party isn't obligatory.

[open | even later]

And you don't need to bring presents!

Comments

[amethysts]

I forgot if you had a last name. Ignore how I'm stupid and think of Miles, 'kay?

[allucinator]

Who the hell do you know that don't have no last name? Kel-ly. Remember it.

Anyway--

[And he switches it to private:]

--You got an offer on your cake yet?

permaprivate

[amethysts]

He's not big on cake.

[She's soft, gentle. Not at all like she was before. Miles seemz to melt her like bitter chocolate into sweet.]

If you want to make something for everybody else I've got ingredients and other stuff.

Jack Kelly. Sorry I yelled at you. It was a fucked up day.

[allucinator]

[He pauses for a few seconds before answering, puzzled but pleased by this change. His own voice, when he answers, is far less brash and defensive; instead he sounds rather more friendly.]

Don't worry about it. And, uh, look, I ain't exactly no cook neither, but-- I mean-- me Ma was, and I figure, you know, between the two o' us, we could probably figure somethin' out. I mean, it's just sweets, right? How hard could it be?

[amethysts]

..if it goes bad we can just toss it anyway.

[What a clever plan, sir.]

I can take directions and--you know. I can tell you have a heart. A robot and a real guy, we might actually have it covered, right?

[allucinator]

Sorry, a what? But, uh, yeah, course we will. I mean, like I said, it's just sweets. If a million bakers can do it, why can't we? When you free?

[amethysts]

The noon of? Then it's--fresher, yeah?

And a what?

[allucinator]

Sounds good. And a-- er-- a robot. What's that?

[amethysts]

...a person made of metal. Wicked amazing. Way better than us fleshies, for real.

[allucinator]

How can a person-- that's not a person, then, that's--

[He falls silent for a few seconds.]

How the hell does that work?