IC INBOX (DATABURST)

[lostintransmition]

AUDIO ⊚ VIDEO ⊚ TEXT ⊚ DELIVERY ⊚ ACTION

address: N/A (see here). For deliveries, the savvy can leave things either in the alley across from the Hex Diner, or the cat tower in Trojan Housewares.
username: $lunchbag

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[lostintransmition]

[They're some of the most beautiful things he's ever seen.

No, really. Svelte is full of pretty colors and patterns, cleaner and nicer and better than the black-blue-grey-green dilapidated Pale City ever was. At every corner is something that's at least okay to look at at bare minimum. It's bright and it's alive and brimming with noise and people, and he was so scared of it at first--more light and more people makes it much harder to remain unseen--but now he's glad for it, happy to walk on unoccupied rooftops while the city thrums under his feet. Besides, there's still so much territory in the Dregs that remains uninhabited.

The point is: he would never have found something like this back home. And no one would have ever made something like this for him, either.

Mono picks one out, putting the mini cowboy hat he'd picked up at the Mall in its place, and stares at it for a solid few minutes before he actually puts it over his head. Feels the weight, the newness of the paper. Breathes in deep.

What a gift. He loves it.]

[senseloss]

[Coda's on the Coda couch in the lounge when he discovers his present. They don't say anything aloud, not immediately, but watches him try the new mask-boxes on with a sly little smile on their face.]

[lostintransmition]

[Mono’s still silently and gleefully hooting to himself about the new hat, patting it up and down, feeling out every inch of this gift. It takes him a while before he actually turns around and spots Coda on their couch.

But when he does, he brightens up and waves. It sure is something, the sight of the kid with a colorful new box on his head, when the rest of his palette is a bunch of ashy browns that border on gray. Not that he cares.]

Look! [He pats the sides. Isn’t this the coolest?] Someone left a bunch of paper boxes in the cat tree. Was it you?

[senseloss]

There was a store at the mall that was selling some good paper for it. Scrapbooking paper, wrapping paper, all sorts of stuff. Bugsy helped me with cutting the eye-holes in them all. I've got enough to make more, if something happens to those, too

[Coda seems pretty smug--it's a good look for the kid.]

[lostintransmition]

Really?

[It wasn’t just them. Bugsy helped, too. And they made them, didn’t just find them, and they’re willing to make more, and, and, and...

Well, he’s a little overwhelmed, is all.

Mono seems to pause for a moment. Then he hops off the cat tree straight down from the second level, crosses the lounge, jumps onto the Coda couch. Hesitates. Then hugs their side.]

Th—... thanks.

[senseloss]

[Coda lifts their hand to very lightly, just with two fingertips, pat Mono's back as he hugs them.]

You're welcome. If there's anything you need, you can always ask. These were just something I was guessing you might like.

[lostintransmition]

[A stiffness leaves his shoulders. Coda doesn't reject him or tense up or just let it stand, they even reciprocate somewhat with that little back-pat, and he just... he folds in, just a little, clinging on for a few moments longer. He... he missed this.

He lets go eventually. There's always a possibility they get short with him if he holds on for too long, and it's not something he wants to risk at this point.]

I know, [he says, and it's a wonderful thing to be able to answer with.] They're great. I love them. I had a bunch of hats I picked up from the Mall, but I'm gonna wear these a ton now.

[senseloss]

Hm, maybe we should have a little fashion show someday. Put hats on Bugsy and Ms. Mojo and me...

[Coda would be more into playing dress-up than they tend to admit. They took to the formal like a duck to water.]

[lostintransmition]

That might be cool. I'd let you guys borrow my hats, but they wouldn't fit.

[Also some of them are barely hats. Mono somehow punched holes through a small used paint bucket, and it's only one number among the collection he has stored away.]