1. BB
2. Poe Phone Fling

Poe

Poe is a college student from the Phone Update, who somehow manages to contact you while he is attempting to make notes on his phone. He is unlocked when you reach the Friendzone with Garret.


Is there anything more dull…
Than forcing nonsense into my skull?
My eyes start to droop;
Read a line in an endless loop.
I haven’t slept in days;
The world around me fades...
(A) Not to ruin the lovely poetry but, you really should sleep.
(B) You sound super cute; and you’re a poet to boot.
Sleep is for the weak./That rhyme was basic, phone. Do I need to upgrade you or something?
I thought you only corrected typos, phone. But I guess now you give advice?
Well, far be it from me to be impolite. Hello phone.
What wise words of wisdom have you come to impart on me?
(A) You texted me.
(B) Nothing rhymes with orange.
That’s how I write notes in you, phone. I didn’t set up this arrangement./Not exactly wise.
Where do I disable the “poetry critique” option.../But a good thing to keep in mind if I’m ever depressed over fruit.
Phones are getting too smart. Inverse to people.
I guess this is like a Sirina thing? You type back?
Hey Sirina, what’s the meaning of life?
(A) The meaning of life is 42.
(B) Changing animals back into boys.
Of course it’s a Math thing. Math - not even once./Hmm. Biology answer. Science isn’t my thing.
I’m an English major.
As in, ‘English is a major downer because every literary person ever was a hack or depressed or both.’
It’s magnificent.
But what’s not magnificent is reading an essay on how the use of punctuation gives us a window into the hidden social injustices of 14th century candle makers.
Why does that need 728 pages to explain? Why is bull poop so long winded?
(A) I can tell you’re very passionate about this.
(B) Are you sure you don’t hate what you’re studying?
Yes./I loathe the “people” far more than the subject matter.
It gets under my fingernails the way some people think they can say “this is good” and “this is trash”.
Especially when they say it about what I’m writing. I’m like, “There’s only one trashy thing around here, Trashy McTrashface.”
Hmm. Interesting. I’m going to put you to the test, Sirina thing. What’s my favorite poem?
(A) Roses are red…?
(B) Alone - look into a mind that doesn’t like the same things as others, despite being raised the same.
Hmm. You’ve failed me worse than my father, Sirina./Hmm. Can relate.
Just kidding. But I’m afraid I actually detest that poem./I particularly love the ending of the metaphorical interest in view.
Not because it’s simple. But because violets aren’t blue. They’re violet./And the lack of doing anything to stop it.
But that’s not my favorite.
Trick question. Don’t have one.
Favorite is a strange idea. How can you love one thing above all others?
How does a new favorite replace an older one? Is there a finite time that “love” fades into “like”?
Take myself, as the example.
Am I “favorite” material? Or, likewise, am I only enjoyable to one type of person?

(A) I’m enjoying everything I’m seeing right now.
(B) I volunteer as tribute to be the one person.
Thanks?/You’re a phone but sure. Whatever.
Such a weird phone feature.
This is wigging me out a bit. Are you horny, phone?
Hmm. I probably shouldn’t have taken that selfie. Apparently it activated “thirsty mode” or something.
Oh damn.
I really am texting someone. New phone, new icon, ect.
Damn. I’ve been pouring my cold dead heart out to someone I don’t even know.
I just sent you a dick pic, huh?
(A) Unsolicited. But appreciated.
(B) Your intent was pure. No worries on this end.
Sorry./Still a bad move.
But you’re welcome?/All of this was a bad move.
I guess?/Should pay more attention.
My intent was whatever./Not where I thought my day was going.
Introductions.
That’s what people usually do.
I’m Poe.
And I would love if the abyss swallowed me whole right about now.
(A) Wouldn’t recommend. The abyss has a terrible reception.
(B) At this point, I’m hoping you’ll just call me “muse”. I’m digging this poem/convo.
Ha./So mysterious.
Yeah, that’s probably right./I can roll with that.
You’re interesting.
Truth be told, mixing curiosity with genuine mystery is… tempting.
I now have questions...
And yet…
[12 hour pause]
Hey. Sorry for the dead silence.
Passed out. Rolled off my bed. Two days without sleep makes for an abrupt conversation.
Not gonna lie, it was needed.
(A) No bumps or bruises?
(B) Thankful for the nap but you didn’t injure yourself, yeah?
Nothing that wasn’t already there./Just the usual emotional scars. Oh, and I hit my funny bone.
I landed safely in a pile of books.
The only real fallout were the dreams. Lots of weird dreams last night.
Some nice, some not so nice.
(A) Sweet dreams are made of these.
(B) Care to elaborate?
Who had a mind to disagree? (Lame. But I had to finish that.)/Geez, trying to remember dreams is like trying to grab naps.
I’ll tell you about some of them though./Not sure where the handles are. But I’ll try my best...
Yes, that’s it. Books trying to devour me.
Fictional crushes coming out of books.
Poetry chasing its own tail.
A person with a phone for a face.
Bleh. Utter nonsense. I need to stay away from caffeine for a few days.
(A) Fictional Crushes…?
(B) Phone for a face sounds like it could be a metaphor for…
Ugh. You know the type. Characters who are written to be manipulatively nice./For not drinking coffee with maple syrup before bed.
Uplifting. Enthusiastic./Dreams are dumb. And utter madness.
Mary Sues and Marty Stus made to make you adore them. Bleh./Which means they can be fun, but you probably shouldn’t dwell on what they mean.
You’re nosy by the way.
I like it though. Speak your mind.
Actually, perhaps you could help me out a bit?
There’s this book that we’re reading and we have to analyse the main romance.
So…. I hate it. So much hate.
Main character is this annoying broody moron who can’t see that the other person likes them.
The romantic interest is this bubbly helpful idiot who sticks around and deals with moron’s personality defects.
(A) So you hate the main character?
(B) So you hate the love interest?
Of course I do./I hate that they keep trying.
They’re a stereotype. They have no depth./The idiot is a lost cause.
Just a ‘poor me, life sucks’ character./Move on.
My point is that there is no way that this could work.
Pure fantasy.
My professor… Loves this garbage. Thinks it literary gold.
We’ve been studying this all semester.
Frankly - I don’t know why she’s teaching us at all. She’s a science teacher who moonlights as an English teacher?
(A) I think you’re projecting.
(B) Maybe you’re jealous of the main character?
On what? The main character?!/Of what? Their relationship to the love interest?
Please. They’re a moronic waste of space who should just leave./Jealous that they found someone so perfect to deal with their drama?
It’s completely contrived that their friends even stick around at this point./People like me don’t get people like that.
If they could get out of bed for once…/*like them. Damn autocorrect
Oh./Oh… Damn.
Epiphanies suck.
(A) What I’m hearing is that you do actually enjoy it but you don’t want to admit it.
(B) Nah! You’re being too hard on yourself. I like you just fine - no drama.
Tell no one./Yet… You sound like the love interest.
If I admit to liking a sappy romance, I'll lose my goth credentials./I really hope you’re intentionally making a point here.
They’ll take away my combat boots./Otherwise this whole thing just got a bit too meta for my liking.
How does that expression go? If you see jerks everywhere you go, then you’re probably the jerk.
Yeah. I miss my night terrors from earlier.
I kind of feel that I’ve accidentally exposed myself to you much more than I intended.
So…
Why not? I’ll complete the mistake.
This is Poe. He is not very self aware.

Umm… Please excuse the… Explicit nudity.
I was trying to be a bit artistic, but got a bit…
Dick pic-ky there.
(A) Of course not! You’re excited, I can get behind that.
(B) I see nothing to be concerned about. This is all good stuff.
Promise?/Thanks.
About the “get behind” stuff?/I’m just a guy taking photos and I happen to be naked.
Haha. Sex joke. That’s about the limit of my comedy./Geez, that sounds super ‘fuckboy’.
Real talk though - I kind of like freaky./No more dick pics. I promise.
Makes me feel alive./Unless you ask, I suppose. Different story.
I’m enjoying this conversation. I feel like I could stay up all night chatting with you.
Saying whatever I want…
Complaining about dumb romance books.
Actually, speaking of which, I’ll explain a little more about what’s bugging me about this book I’m reading.
Specifically the assignment I need to do. The Prof wants us to write a new scene, using the characters as inspiration.
Fanfiction. She’s getting us to write fanfiction. She’s insane.
(A) Fluff or Smut?
(B) Need someone to be your “inspiration”? ;)
They didn’t say./What, like roleplay a fantasy?
But handing in a sex scene doesn’t seem like the best idea./In that case, I’d only know how to write an electronic relationship.
What if I arouse my teacher? Ew./Though… I suppose those are pretty real.
I just - how am I supposed to write this?
I don’t connect with the subject matter at all. Even if I want to.
(A) Your poetry’s on point. Why not use that as the starting point?
(B) Pretend I’m the love interest. Write to me.
That’s… Dumb enough to work./Hmm. You really do remind me of them.
[24 hour pause]
Okay, I’ll give it a try.
You’re a nice person. Caring.
I like talking to you. Sharing. Baring myself.
Having fun, making one two three memories, just to please these subjects.
I connect. I respect. I start to expect that…
(Damn, this is so cheesy.)
(A) Keep going!
(B) The cheesy romance was within you all along.
Really?/Bite your tongue.
This feels like Cringe City, but I’ll keep going./But… Maybe you’re right. I must embrace the cliches. I must become them.
I see us talking music. Hear us staring.
Swapping terrible horror DVDs so we can start scaring.
Wearing each other’s jewellery. For foolery. We bling.
Trading meaningless dreams with each other.
Sharing poetry.
(A) I’m really digging this. Keep going!
(B) I don’t want to jinx you. Keep going.
(Okay…)/(I’m still not convinced this isn’t mega cringe, but as you wish…)
Our eyes are open in a dream.
Yours are drinking mine, unseen.
My lips are trembling, wordless whispers.
Thoughts are ringing, mindless espers.
Your words are hands now touching me…
(Bleh. This is fun, but I feel like a hack…)
(A) No no! You’re almost there! Finish it!
(B) Would you just finish the damn poem?
(...Okay. I’ll bring it home)/(Hahaha! Okay. But only because you asked so nicely.)
Your lips on mine.
Awkward urgent limbs entwine.
Climb on top. Make me your pet.
Tease me. Deny me what I need to get.
Press inside me. Kiss my mouth.
Break my choker. Grip the south.
Make me scream, and no matter what...
It’s still a joke, and here’s the butt.

(A) Things got a bit… Interesting at the end there.
(B) Well, now I can’t help imagine all the things I want to do to you.
Truthfully, I was getting a bit turned on./That’s the idea.
So I needed a bit of humor to bring it back down./I want to be unable to form coherent speech.
What a strangely productive day.
And here I thought I’d have to fake a disease to get out of the assignment.
(A) That last part was definitely just you pretending to be the main character.
(B) If I was next to you, there would be absolutely no productivity.
Uhhhhhh./As if I wasn’t horny enough right now.
Yeeeaaah…/I like the idea of you teasing me while I work.
Just getting in the headspace./Or at least, I try to work.
I go the extra mile in my work./But then I can’t take it anymore and we just fuck on my desk.
Anyway.
I’d rather stay and get hot and heavy through texts but…
I have class soon.
Thanks for being both fun distraction and necessary inspiration.
It’s been… Interesting.
Take it easy.


Hello.
It's me, Poe.
I wanted to apologize for our last conversation.
I think I may have made an ass of myself.
(This. This is why I hate myself. Why am I the way I am?)
Ugh.
Normally I don't give a crap what people think of me, but forwhatever reason, I just keep remembering you.
And feeling awkward.
So yeah.
Sorry for being weird.
(A) Who is this again?
(B) No need to apologize!
.../Well.
Right./I'm doing it anyway.
And now I'm going to take a long walk through the sketchiest wood I can find and, with any luck, dissapear forever./It wasn't the first impression I would have chosen to give off, if I'd thought it through a little more.
Because clearly, I wasn't thinking.
(A) I'm weird too, Poe. You can tell from the jokes I make.
(B) You might need to take things a tad less seriously...
Oh. Okay, I see how it is./Oh, I never take anything seriously.
So...
We're good?
(A) Yeah, of course!
(B) Yes. But we'd be even better if we got to know each other a bit more!
Okay. You do seem exeptionally easy-going./Yeah? You wanna, like, be friends?
I wouldn't mind talking with you more...
But anyway.
I'm looking through my window right now and there's an ominous fog rolling in.
I really can't resist an old-fashioned walk through a creepy forest in unsettling weather, so...
I'm gonna go do that.
Talk later?
(A) Understandable. Enjoy, and let me know when you're home.
(B) Umm... Please be safe?
Home is just a body./Are we ever truly safe?
Carrying our spirits through the physical world./In these fragile, mortal bodies?
But yeah, I'll text you when I get back.
Later, friendo.