IC Contact for Midnight Syndicate

[polariity]

[For anyone familiar enough with the Psiioniic or even who just plain asks around, it's easy enough to find his room over in Gloria's wing. There's a tiny little box with a slit on it attached to his door, plainly wooden save for the gemini symbol carved onto it.]

[Of course, anyone further familiar with him can contact him on his husktop at any time.]

♊ is offline.

Comments

4/1 - Text

[samantha_grey]

Yo.

[Considering their last talk a few weeks ago, this could be either the herald of impending, quadrant-centered doom, or simply some jackass red-head pestering him out of the blue. Either was equally possible.]

4/13, around midnight or so

[hibariskylark]

where are you?

[Same day as the schoolgirl uniform fiasco, but many hours later. Clearly this bodes well.]

text; evening 5/8

[hibariskylark]

have you heard anything about greta?
im curious

[Less than two days after nearly joining Psii in antagonizing Emily. Clearly there is nothing except great decision-making going on here.]

text; 5/21

[chainsawstick]

So
I Heard That You Shared A Conversation Pertaining To The Topic Of Quadrants
With Juri Arisugawa
Im Not Sending You A Message To Complain Or Deride You Or Anything Passive Aggressive or Aggressive Agressive
Just To Hear What She Might Have Said About Me

[ Things in her flushed quadrant have not been great, and so she somehow thinks Psii is a good person to talk about this with. ]

Voice

[angelicreation]

[After watching the Disciplinary Committee's post for a while and deciding that she wasn't going to bring her own thing to it, she decided to contact Psii directly about it. She sounds hungover - because she was - but only used voice because fuck reading Psii's typing right now.]

Hey Psii... It looks like a lot of people got threats and stuff...

So did I. But mine's different. Mildly disturbing, yes, but not anything remotely like the rest. I dismissed it earlier, but now... it's intriguing.

letters

[herenoirthere]

[Psii receives the letters sporadically over the next four days, but always when he isn't at his room. Sometimes, even when he is, but then it's when he's not paying attention. Or when he blinks. Or maybe he's just lost five minutes to blackness. Regardless, the letters appear under his door. They're lovely, a marbled white paper on a scalloped, textured black that's shot through with silver.]

My vegetable Love should grow Vaster then Empires, and more slow.

Let us roll all our Strength, and all Our sweetness, up into one Ball

My ecchoing Song: then Worms shall try That long preserv'd Virginity: And your quaint Honour turn to durst; And into ashes all my Lust.

For Lady you deserve this State; Nor would I love at lower rate.

[The lines come out of order but eventually he receives enough to make up the entirety of To His Coy Mistress.

The latter letters are less sensible, though, the black ink turning to reddish brown. Some of the ink has flaked off, strange bits of peachy something is stuck to the paper, and the paper is stained with tears and what's probably blood.]

5/25 -- late evening

[hibariskylark]

did anything weird happen to you during the carnival?

[Have a charged question out of nowhere. He's been trying to avoid talking about it.]