Kelpie
She/Her
41
June 18
Snowbelle City
Pansexual
Rocket Scientist
Grunt
This vessel is a lie, a shapeshifting beast, a lesson in fluidity
TAG WITH @calpurnia
Calpurnia Kubrick
[nospaces] [attr="class","blboxbl"] Taking a brief moment to examine the courtyard—drawing imaginary likes between people like a spider’s web. Who was sleeping with whom and which silly muffin would sell them out next? A few pleasantries were passed to the familiar faces among them. Calpurnia then moved to the table. After a moment of sampling, the violet-haired woman scooped up a cup of what seemed to be fruit punch and a freshly baked cookie. “Oh!” She took a bite, moaning her way through it. “I love snickerdoodle!” [break][break]
What a quaint, silly spread! It reminded her of one of those silly summer camps her little ones adored. It certainly did not exude world-class terrorism. Smacking prim lips together, she moved to take a seat near the front of the room. At her heels as usual, a large Purugly followed. His head and bearing were almost as elevated as his master’s—though that was a difficult act to follow. He briefly moved to investigate oscar clayton’s Genesect before growing bored of the silly robot [break][break]
With a warm, sultry smile, Calpurnia turned to the person next to her. When she spoke, the sound was akin to a purr. But nt not the kind you’d expect from a house cat. Freshly manicured nails stretched across one knee as her heel folded across the other. Violet eyes were ever-calculating. “Just a few years ago, a silly soiree like this would get you tossed in the loony bin.” Her eyes lifted to follow Lulu around the room. A more deserving young woman, she could describe—aside from herself, of course. [break][break]
But Kelpie preferred to leave the silly administrative stuff to the little Napoleons. [break][break]
“And, now, we’re devoting an entire research wing to little green men.” Or, to be accurate, giant twisted monstrosities from space. Though she meant her remarks for the person next to her, she turned to the cat at her feet. “How the tables do turn, hm?”
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