[ It is a mixture of stubbornness, pride and a refusal to be a problem for anyone else.
Phainon has always brute forced his heat. He has always been the one who has been able to work through it, even before he had arrived at Okhema and begun the Flamechase journey; he had been dedicated and focused, and refused to let himself falter, not even for a moment. He had to be strong, had to be stalwart, had to be determined, to be strong, to be all the things he had promised himself that he would be.
Absently, he's well aware of how the others are going to react, the alphas especially. He's taken precautions to ensure that none of that will be a problem, his usual collar around his neck, his sword in hand, prepared to fight anyone who wants to try and risk his life over something as foolish as his mating season. It'll end, swifter if he can work through it and focus elsewhere, rather on the heat and the slickness of his body.
All of that comes crashing down as soon as Mydei approaches him, frustrated and annoyed, and he scowls a little as he crosses his arms over his chest. No one else has paid him that much attention, but he's not quite conscious of the fact that Mydei's anger might have been a buffer. ]
[ It's the (continued) disregard for his own health that's bothering him, Mydei tells himself. At the end of the day, however, it is indeed just a heat; he won't suffer ill effects for working through it. Mydei holds him in high enough estimation that he won't claim such a thing will make Phainon make mistakes, even in jest. Anyone who would try to use a thing to claim him would meet a swift defeat, if not at Phainon's hand, then at one of the Heirs.
His feet are restless, though. He wants to stalk in front of Phainon and keep him from leaving, to block others who dare to look at him. (The anger is partly at himself for letting this bother him so much. Does he believe Phainon so weak he needs to be sequestered elsewhere, with Mydei to guard him? Were his inner Alpha a physical thing, he might grab it by the scruff and shake it senseless.) ]
Be that as it may, you should still take time to take care of yourself.
[ His voice might be gruff but at least he's honest. Somewhat. ]
[ And Phainon is a little put out at the idea that he wouldn't be able to do so, even with the heat baring down on him.
Thus far, he has lived through years of this, has survived all of his heats alone without anyone at his side. There's no need to worry about what might happen, because he can take care of himself and protect himself, no matter what else might be ahead of him. It's what he has done for his hears for years, long before he had arrived in the city, and it is what he intends to do until he finds someone that wants him.
He isn't optimistic, considering his nature and the path before him, but he can hope. He can dream of a future, even if he isn't confident of his own. ]
I am eating, sleeping, and training, as I always do. If it was too much, I'd rest.
[ Which is true, even if all his instincts are bullying him to go home and make some kind of blanket filled, pillow flooded nest to hide in. ]
[ Mydei lets out a soft huff of breath, unable to censure the sound despite Phainon speaking the truth. Outwardly his scent flares with irritation; inwardly, he wrestles with his desire to protect versus the fact that Phainon has neither asked for nor needs it. ]
I know.
[ Sounding sour despite his best efforts, he shifts his arms and looks away. Trying to intimidate Phainon into taking time off isn't working, and he knows that this will end in a fight. Not an enjoyable one, either; so he huffs out a breath again through his nose like a Dromas before he speaks, still looking away. ]
Some part of my ... instincts are convinced that you should not be pushing yourself through this. I'm not in the habit of ignoring them, even if you are correct that you've been handling it fine so far.
[ There's the shyest curl of embarrassment in his scent now, but at least he's being more honest about what has him bent out of shape. ]
[ Phainon's instincts make him want to rebel against Mydei, twitching as he feels the frustration and the ire, but he refuses to let it make him falter. He has survived this long and will keep surviving, no matter what the man in front of him wants. ]
Oh. Your instincts.
[ It's natural for someone like Mydeimos to want to take care of the omegas around him, he imagines. Maybe he wants to urge Phainon away so that he can rest and spar without being confused or distracted, and that's understandable. He could take it a little easier on his friend...
He sighs, some of his tension bleeding away. ]
Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you? Anything else.
that icon is just mydei hovering behind him all day glaring at people
[ Mydei's expression is still sour as Phainon offers to make it easier on him, though he looks at him again, eyes widening slightly. It shames him to have that offered, seeing as he is not the two of them going through a heat; it shames him more that it sets some part of him at ease.
He's silent as he considers it. He cannot demand he sequester himself, and Phainon has made clear he will not agree to it. He cannot follow Phainon around all day; as casual as he could try to make it, he's not Phainon's Alpha and his friend doesn't needed the added stress.
What would ensure no one else bothers him? A moment later, he realizes, and exhales. ]
Let me mark you with my scent.
[ Not Phainon's Alpha, but anyone else would take it as an implicit claim for the duration of his heat. The idea seems to settle the restlessness within his bones.
It's still quite a lot to ask of Phainon, which has him adding, ] I won't force you.
Edited (mr never explains anything) 2025-11-03 20:02 (UTC)
[ It's hard, to watch Mydei as his mind works, to see him work through whatever is happening and whatever instincts are damning him. Phainon gives him the time to think, to consider, and hopes that they'll come to terms with things without the need for him to have to hide away from or avoid his friend.
That would be a bad outcome.
Lifting his head, he watches, his eyes flickering for a moment before he hums softly. ]
A scent mark?
[ It's not normally something that's done, but no one can deny how much time he and Mydeimos spend with one another. It makes his cheeks go red, his eyes darting to one side before he laughs softly. ]
Is that all? You can, if it will help. I don't mind.
[ Is that all? Phainon asks, and Mydei shoots him a slightly irritated look at that. He's not wrong, though; it's a relatively simpler solution compared to his earlier attempt to intimidate his friend.
The blush helps assuage some of what he perceives as teasing. With Phainon's consent given, Mydei steps a little closer. He could do this chastely, but he finds himself reaching out for Phainon, a hand closing around his wrist and pulling him up against him, waist to shoulder.
Like this, it's easy to duck down and turn his head to drag his nose against his friend's scent gland. ]
Phainon isn't sure how to describe it. There's something intense and heady about it, but he doesn't shrug it off or try to make Mydei give up or make it go away. Instead, he bites his words back and swallows softly instead, breathing out a little noise.
With how deep he is in his heat, and how desperate he feels... It's hard to ignore the pull, the thrum, but he has to.
[ He lets his own scent get stronger for a few moments, making sure that it saturates Phainon as thoroughly as he can. He refuses to rub up against him for multiple reasons, but the touch of their skin is good enough to settle the uneasy thing inside him.
Phainon speaks, the scent of his heat so sweet; Mydei's teeth ache. Without really thinking about it, he presses his mouth to the gland, letting his tongue and teeth drag against it -
Then he realizes what he's doing and rips his head back, pushing Phainon back with hands on his waist, but doesn't let him go, either. ]
[ He feels as if he is being flooded with Mydeimos, overwhelmed by him and drowned in his scent, and he has to take a few calming breaths to ensure he stays settled. The instinct inside of him has him burning, wanting to turn and take, to bare his neck and submit, but he can't do that. He can't do something so cruel, so unwanted.
Even when teeth brush over him, he thinks it must be a side effect of the scent marking, because surely Mydei wouldn't...?
Swallowing, he turns his gaze back to his friend. ]
[ It's dragged out of him roughly, in the middle of him attempting to rein in his desire to pick Phainon up and carry him back to his rooms. He's never been more aware of the sharpness of his teeth or the shape of Phainon's neck than right now. Pulling frayed control tighter: ]
It was my loss of control.
[ He pauses slightly before he speaks the last word. It's not quite that he lost control so much as it's what he wants terribly. ]
[ Nikador's Lance, it's like those tales about poorly granted wishes. Now Phainon will stay in his rooms, but only because he thinks he's causing Mydei some kind of uncontrollable distress.
When Phainon's hand goes up, one hand lets go of his waist to catch it, fingers tight around his wrist. His expression looks angry; it's probably not clear it's directed at himself until he speaks. ]
No, this is -
[ He huffs out a breath. ]
It's not - ugh.
[ He slackens his hold a little before he finally manages to spit it out. ]
It's because I already want you that it affects me. That is my issue to bear, not yours. I should leave.
[ Phainon reaches out, his fingers wrapping around Mydei's wrist - perhaps dangerously, considering what is happening between them, but he can't stop himself. The urge is there, and the desperate instinct is burning through him and making him want to collapse to his knees.
[ Phainon's fingers wrap around his wrist in turn, a burning brand, and Mydeimos inhales sharply. A mistake, given his scent: the smell of something close to fresh bread blooms across his senses again, a sweet undercurrent due to his heat.
He tenses his jaw, but he doesn't miss what Phainon asks, and it makes him tilt his head down to look at him. This is not how he planned such a confession, but he does not shy from it. Instead, the hand at his waist tightens. ]
I want you. I've wanted you for a long time.
[ But the Flame-chase, their mutual duties, it's held him back. ]
[ It feels like an eternity, but the pause is only a brief flicker in time in reality. Phainon stares at Mydeimos and swallows, the instinctive urge to drop down and offer himself to the alpha in front of him making him feel utterly overwhelmed, an edge of desperation that he can't control. It's always been a struggle to resist some of his omega urges, and the situation doesn't feel as if it's improving with the knowledge that the man he wants also wants him.
Drawn close, he tilts his head up, stares, and tries to wrestle with himself. ]
... It's not a good idea.
[ But he leans in, leans up all the same, seeking and wanting. He doesn't stop and doesn't pause, his eyes dark and wide. ]
[ Phainon's scent grows thicker, and Mydei's matches it. His eyes watch Phainon carefully, his pupils wide as he inhales again. ]
Then you have me, Phainon.
[ A bad, bad idea, but he lifts his hands to curl them against Phainon's jaw and leans in to kiss him. It's not a slow kiss, Mydei pressing his tongue against the seam of Phainon's lips until he's let in, using his hold to drag Phainon against him. ]
Drawn close, held, tight against the solid body of the man he wants, Phainon can't imagine anything that might feel better. He groans into it, his scent exploding with want and desire, his fingers gripping at whatever scraps of fabric he can grasp at. He needs this, wants it so much, that a simple kiss isn't going to be enough, and when he breaks for air he whines. ]
[ Mydei answers with a pleased rumble from deep in his chest. It takes little effort to pick Phainon up; he'd throw him over his shoulder, but then he wouldn't be able to kiss and scent him. So he carries him bridal style, allowing Phainon access to his neck as he turns and strides out of the room.
Phainon's quarters are neither very far or very close. It means that the pleasant walk is too damn long, and he doesn't want anyone else to see Phainon this needy, either. He glares at people they pass who spare more than a glance for them - which is many. They are heirs, and Mydei is carrying the famed Deliverer like a maiden.
Eventually, they make it. He uses his hip to hit the lock on the door before he lets Phainon return to his feet, nudging their mouths together. ]
[ There's a momentary instinct to protest and complain, to say that he doesn't need to be picked up and carried, even if he had asked to be taken home. The quiet part of Phainon that thinks of himself as prideful beyond his omega status wants to walk himself home and prove himself at the same time - even if the part of him burning with heat is desperate for Mydei to continue.
As soon as they're behind closed doors, kicking off his shoes and leaning into the kiss, he feels more at peace. Back in his home is safe, and he's invited an alpha inside, brimming with a sense of satisfaction that just won't go away. This is what he had wanted for months, and he finally has the man he wanted where he needs him the most.
Grabbing Mydei's hands, he begins to lead him back to the second bedroom, where he builds his nests during his heats, the room flushed and flooded with his heat scent. ]
[ He knows Phainon is more than his second gender; has known it since the man fought him for ten days and ten nights, and then immediately agreed the Kremnoans should be let into Okhema despite a draw. He has strength and a good heart.
Mydei wants to take care of him - not because Phainon can't, but because he deserves to have someone do that for him. To cook for him and rub his back, the same person who will challenge him to get stronger.
(Who knows that eventually they will have to part.)
The heat scent makes him a little dizzy, and he presses his mouth to the back of Phainon's neck for just a moment, tongue dragging over the top of his spine. Then he leans up. ]
It doesn't need to be impressive. I'll like it because it's yours.
You've already charmed me, Mydeimos. No need to keep going.
[ Not that he's genuine in his complaints.
He's far too focussed on the press of a tongue on his neck, close to his mating gland, so close to what he wants the most. The desire to buckle and bend and let Mydeimos do whatever he wants is overwhelming, and his eyes flicker as he tries to muster his self-control and move forward, to not let go completely.
Slowly, he leads Mydeimos into the room and into his nest, tugging him over so they can settle inside it and get comfortable.
[ Mydei is tugged into the bed, gloves, greaves and all; he's quick to unstrap his gauntlets and set them aside so that he can touch Phainon without the bite of metal. The fact that his own scent lingers in here surprises him a little, and his eyes darken.
He nudges his nose against Phainon's neck again as his hands come to his waist, though he doesn't bite. Instead he speaks. ]
[ Phainon should probably be embarrassed that his nest spells so strongly of Mydeimos - there was no one else that he would've brought back here, so that would at least stop someone else being furious with him for the cross-scenting, but... It's not as if he would ever bring anyone else back to his room, not as if he could ever want for anyone else.
There's only one alpha he has ever wanted to spend his heat with.
Shivering under his touch, baring his neck, he swallows and tries not to fold immediately. It's hard. ]
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Phainon has always brute forced his heat. He has always been the one who has been able to work through it, even before he had arrived at Okhema and begun the Flamechase journey; he had been dedicated and focused, and refused to let himself falter, not even for a moment. He had to be strong, had to be stalwart, had to be determined, to be strong, to be all the things he had promised himself that he would be.
Absently, he's well aware of how the others are going to react, the alphas especially. He's taken precautions to ensure that none of that will be a problem, his usual collar around his neck, his sword in hand, prepared to fight anyone who wants to try and risk his life over something as foolish as his mating season. It'll end, swifter if he can work through it and focus elsewhere, rather on the heat and the slickness of his body.
All of that comes crashing down as soon as Mydei approaches him, frustrated and annoyed, and he scowls a little as he crosses his arms over his chest. No one else has paid him that much attention, but he's not quite conscious of the fact that Mydei's anger might have been a buffer. ]
Why shouldn't I be? I still have a job to do.
[ His nose twitches. ]
It's just a heat.
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His feet are restless, though. He wants to stalk in front of Phainon and keep him from leaving, to block others who dare to look at him. (The anger is partly at himself for letting this bother him so much. Does he believe Phainon so weak he needs to be sequestered elsewhere, with Mydei to guard him? Were his inner Alpha a physical thing, he might grab it by the scruff and shake it senseless.) ]
Be that as it may, you should still take time to take care of yourself.
[ His voice might be gruff but at least he's honest. Somewhat. ]
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[ And Phainon is a little put out at the idea that he wouldn't be able to do so, even with the heat baring down on him.
Thus far, he has lived through years of this, has survived all of his heats alone without anyone at his side. There's no need to worry about what might happen, because he can take care of himself and protect himself, no matter what else might be ahead of him. It's what he has done for his hears for years, long before he had arrived in the city, and it is what he intends to do until he finds someone that wants him.
He isn't optimistic, considering his nature and the path before him, but he can hope. He can dream of a future, even if he isn't confident of his own. ]
I am eating, sleeping, and training, as I always do. If it was too much, I'd rest.
[ Which is true, even if all his instincts are bullying him to go home and make some kind of blanket filled, pillow flooded nest to hide in. ]
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I know.
[ Sounding sour despite his best efforts, he shifts his arms and looks away. Trying to intimidate Phainon into taking time off isn't working, and he knows that this will end in a fight. Not an enjoyable one, either; so he huffs out a breath again through his nose like a Dromas before he speaks, still looking away. ]
Some part of my ... instincts are convinced that you should not be pushing yourself through this. I'm not in the habit of ignoring them, even if you are correct that you've been handling it fine so far.
[ There's the shyest curl of embarrassment in his scent now, but at least he's being more honest about what has him bent out of shape. ]
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Oh. Your instincts.
[ It's natural for someone like Mydeimos to want to take care of the omegas around him, he imagines. Maybe he wants to urge Phainon away so that he can rest and spar without being confused or distracted, and that's understandable. He could take it a little easier on his friend...
He sighs, some of his tension bleeding away. ]
Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you? Anything else.
that icon is just mydei hovering behind him all day glaring at people
He's silent as he considers it. He cannot demand he sequester himself, and Phainon has made clear he will not agree to it. He cannot follow Phainon around all day; as casual as he could try to make it, he's not Phainon's Alpha and his friend doesn't needed the added stress.
What would ensure no one else bothers him? A moment later, he realizes, and exhales. ]
Let me mark you with my scent.
[ Not Phainon's Alpha, but anyone else would take it as an implicit claim for the duration of his heat. The idea seems to settle the restlessness within his bones.
It's still quite a lot to ask of Phainon, which has him adding, ] I won't force you.
a real alpha attitude
That would be a bad outcome.
Lifting his head, he watches, his eyes flickering for a moment before he hums softly. ]
A scent mark?
[ It's not normally something that's done, but no one can deny how much time he and Mydeimos spend with one another. It makes his cheeks go red, his eyes darting to one side before he laughs softly. ]
Is that all? You can, if it will help. I don't mind.
he's trying to be NICE
The blush helps assuage some of what he perceives as teasing. With Phainon's consent given, Mydei steps a little closer. He could do this chastely, but he finds himself reaching out for Phainon, a hand closing around his wrist and pulling him up against him, waist to shoulder.
Like this, it's easy to duck down and turn his head to drag his nose against his friend's scent gland. ]
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It feels like something.
Phainon isn't sure how to describe it. There's something intense and heady about it, but he doesn't shrug it off or try to make Mydei give up or make it go away. Instead, he bites his words back and swallows softly instead, breathing out a little noise.
With how deep he is in his heat, and how desperate he feels... It's hard to ignore the pull, the thrum, but he has to.
Instead, he shakes his head. ]
Are you finished?
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Phainon speaks, the scent of his heat so sweet; Mydei's teeth ache. Without really thinking about it, he presses his mouth to the gland, letting his tongue and teeth drag against it -
Then he realizes what he's doing and rips his head back, pushing Phainon back with hands on his waist, but doesn't let him go, either. ]
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Even when teeth brush over him, he thinks it must be a side effect of the scent marking, because surely Mydei wouldn't...?
Swallowing, he turns his gaze back to his friend. ]
Ah. Sorry.
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[ It's dragged out of him roughly, in the middle of him attempting to rein in his desire to pick Phainon up and carry him back to his rooms. He's never been more aware of the sharpness of his teeth or the shape of Phainon's neck than right now. Pulling frayed control tighter: ]
It was my loss of control.
[ He pauses slightly before he speaks the last word. It's not quite that he lost control so much as it's what he wants terribly. ]
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[ Phaion blames himself, instead; he should be better than this, surely. If he had kept to his rooms, maybe his friend wouldn't be suffering so much.
Swallowing, he shakes his head, lifting his fingers to cover his scent gland absently, as if that would help. ]
Perhaps you're right, and I should go.
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When Phainon's hand goes up, one hand lets go of his waist to catch it, fingers tight around his wrist. His expression looks angry; it's probably not clear it's directed at himself until he speaks. ]
No, this is -
[ He huffs out a breath. ]
It's not - ugh.
[ He slackens his hold a little before he finally manages to spit it out. ]
It's because I already want you that it affects me. That is my issue to bear, not yours. I should leave.
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[ Phainon reaches out, his fingers wrapping around Mydei's wrist - perhaps dangerously, considering what is happening between them, but he can't stop himself. The urge is there, and the desperate instinct is burning through him and making him want to collapse to his knees.
He never realised that Mydeimos might actually...
Shivering, he tilts his head up. ]
Say it again.
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He tenses his jaw, but he doesn't miss what Phainon asks, and it makes him tilt his head down to look at him. This is not how he planned such a confession, but he does not shy from it. Instead, the hand at his waist tightens. ]
I want you. I've wanted you for a long time.
[ But the Flame-chase, their mutual duties, it's held him back. ]
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Drawn close, he tilts his head up, stares, and tries to wrestle with himself. ]
... It's not a good idea.
[ But he leans in, leans up all the same, seeking and wanting. He doesn't stop and doesn't pause, his eyes dark and wide. ]
But I want you, too.
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Then you have me, Phainon.
[ A bad, bad idea, but he lifts his hands to curl them against Phainon's jaw and leans in to kiss him. It's not a slow kiss, Mydei pressing his tongue against the seam of Phainon's lips until he's let in, using his hold to drag Phainon against him. ]
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Drawn close, held, tight against the solid body of the man he wants, Phainon can't imagine anything that might feel better. He groans into it, his scent exploding with want and desire, his fingers gripping at whatever scraps of fabric he can grasp at. He needs this, wants it so much, that a simple kiss isn't going to be enough, and when he breaks for air he whines. ]
Take me home, Mydei.
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Phainon's quarters are neither very far or very close. It means that the pleasant walk is too damn long, and he doesn't want anyone else to see Phainon this needy, either. He glares at people they pass who spare more than a glance for them - which is many. They are heirs, and Mydei is carrying the famed Deliverer like a maiden.
Eventually, they make it. He uses his hip to hit the lock on the door before he lets Phainon return to his feet, nudging their mouths together. ]
Show me your nest?
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As soon as they're behind closed doors, kicking off his shoes and leaning into the kiss, he feels more at peace. Back in his home is safe, and he's invited an alpha inside, brimming with a sense of satisfaction that just won't go away. This is what he had wanted for months, and he finally has the man he wanted where he needs him the most.
Grabbing Mydei's hands, he begins to lead him back to the second bedroom, where he builds his nests during his heats, the room flushed and flooded with his heat scent. ]
It's not particularly impressive.
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Mydei wants to take care of him - not because Phainon can't, but because he deserves to have someone do that for him. To cook for him and rub his back, the same person who will challenge him to get stronger.
(Who knows that eventually they will have to part.)
The heat scent makes him a little dizzy, and he presses his mouth to the back of Phainon's neck for just a moment, tongue dragging over the top of his spine. Then he leans up. ]
It doesn't need to be impressive. I'll like it because it's yours.
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[ Not that he's genuine in his complaints.
He's far too focussed on the press of a tongue on his neck, close to his mating gland, so close to what he wants the most. The desire to buckle and bend and let Mydeimos do whatever he wants is overwhelming, and his eyes flicker as he tries to muster his self-control and move forward, to not let go completely.
Slowly, he leads Mydeimos into the room and into his nest, tugging him over so they can settle inside it and get comfortable.
It smells like him.
It also smells like Mydei. ]
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He nudges his nose against Phainon's neck again as his hands come to his waist, though he doesn't bite. Instead he speaks. ]
What of mine were you making off with, Phainon?
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There's only one alpha he has ever wanted to spend his heat with.
Shivering under his touch, baring his neck, he swallows and tries not to fold immediately. It's hard. ]
... One of your spare chiton.
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i forgot to ask what he's rolling with so enjoy this vague tag and tell me if he has the phainussy
i think we said yes phaidussy
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