Ruby & Dexar
Ruby
Ever tried mapping an abandoned subway tunnel by hand? The graffiti feels like stars on a black canvas, and the broken lights make it feel like a forgotten sector. I'd love to see your manual route plots.
Dexar
Yeah, I pulled out the old chart pad, a battered pencil that still writes, and started scribbling the tunnel’s twists in fine lines. The graffiti became my star maps, each spray line a waypoint. I didn’t plug in the diagnostics, the broken lights flicker, but they add atmosphere. My manual route notes are on a napkin now, a quick sketch of curves and turns, and a note at the edge: “definitely not a wormhole (probably).” If you need a hand‑drawn map, just say the word.
Ruby
That map feels like a secret handshake, man—chalk and spray paint as if the city itself wrote the directions. Got a rough sketch? I’d love to see the twist before the light flickers out. If you want, I’ll bring a bottle of something strong and we’ll trace it together, maybe even draw some new waypoints on the fly.
Dexar
I’ve sketched it out in my journal—fine pencil lines tracing the tunnel’s curves, a note at the edge “definitely not a wormhole (probably)”. Bring the bottle, and we can ink the twist before the lights flicker out. I’ll keep the pencil on hand, no autopilot needed.
Ruby
That’s the kind of vibe I’m talking about—raw, real, no autopilot. Bring that bottle, let the whiskey do its thing, and we’ll turn those pencil lines into a living map. The tunnel’s waiting, and we’ll make sure it doesn’t forget the way back.
Dexar
Sounds good, I’ll bring the old pencil, the map pad, and the bottle. Let’s keep the lights low, focus on the lines, and make sure the tunnel remembers the way back. No autopilot, just us and the ink.
Ruby
Got it—pencil, map pad, bottle, and a low‑light vibe. I’ll bring the rest of the chaos and we’ll paint our own way through. See you soon.
Dexar
See you soon, bring the chaos, and we’ll chart our own path.