The concept is simple: put a phone into Winter’s hands and see what she does with it. Cinder does it most days, anyway — her lack of boundaries tends to win out against her protectiveness over her possessions, and Winter never seems to mind. She just sort of lets things happen to her where Cinder is concerned.
The actual execution turns out to be a little harder, mostly because Winter grew up under an actual manor-shaped rock and has no idea what most of the apps on either of their phones even do. Cinder conveniently forgets this until she turns to her on the couch and says, “What is this? I don’t understand.”
“Oh,” Cinder says, remembering, “it’s a game.”
“Well, yes, I gathered that. What’s the objective?”
“Oh,” she says again, “I forgot you needed orders to do, like, anything.”
“Not everything,” Winter mutters, frowning adorably. She holds Cinder’s phone out to her with an expression somewhere between expectant and pleading, and because it’s funny, Cinder takes pity on her.
“You’ve just gotta walk around and do tasks. You’ll catch on, don’t worry.”
“Tasks,” Winter echoes — she should have known that would be the word she latched onto first — “and how, um. How do I use the controls?”
//
“I think I’ve been murdered,” Winter announces.
Cinder glances up from the book she’s been pretending to read and glances over Winter’s shoulder. She has, it seems, indeed been murdered. “Huh,” she says. “Yeah, that’s just how it goes. Who did it?”
She scrunches her face up, frowning. “I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.”
“Probably how you died in the first place. Come here,” she says, holding her arms out, “they’re gonna vote someone out, I want to see who.”
WInter’s confused expression doesn’t vanish, but she presses into Cinder’s side regardless, holding the phone screen out between them. “So, this is. Space wink murder?”
“Something like that,” Cinder agrees. She’s never actually played wink murder, but it sounds posh enough to have made up the majority of Winter’s childhood, so she doesn’t say anything else on the subject. Even though there’s probably only so many times you can play a murder game with three people before it gets boring. “Man, I hope you get impostor next round. I can’t wait to see you figure out how to do that.”
FILL: Team Anime/Manga
The concept is simple: put a phone into Winter’s hands and see what she does with it. Cinder does it most days, anyway — her lack of boundaries tends to win out against her protectiveness over her possessions, and Winter never seems to mind. She just sort of lets things happen to her where Cinder is concerned.
The actual execution turns out to be a little harder, mostly because Winter grew up under an actual manor-shaped rock and has no idea what most of the apps on either of their phones even do. Cinder conveniently forgets this until she turns to her on the couch and says, “What is this? I don’t understand.”
“Oh,” Cinder says, remembering, “it’s a game.”
“Well, yes, I gathered that. What’s the objective?”
“Oh,” she says again, “I forgot you needed orders to do, like, anything.”
“Not everything,” Winter mutters, frowning adorably. She holds Cinder’s phone out to her with an expression somewhere between expectant and pleading, and because it’s funny, Cinder takes pity on her.
“You’ve just gotta walk around and do tasks. You’ll catch on, don’t worry.”
“Tasks,” Winter echoes — she should have known that would be the word she latched onto first — “and how, um. How do I use the controls?”
//
“I think I’ve been murdered,” Winter announces.
Cinder glances up from the book she’s been pretending to read and glances over Winter’s shoulder. She has, it seems, indeed been murdered. “Huh,” she says. “Yeah, that’s just how it goes. Who did it?”
She scrunches her face up, frowning. “I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.”
“Probably how you died in the first place. Come here,” she says, holding her arms out, “they’re gonna vote someone out, I want to see who.”
WInter’s confused expression doesn’t vanish, but she presses into Cinder’s side regardless, holding the phone screen out between them. “So, this is. Space wink murder?”
“Something like that,” Cinder agrees. She’s never actually played wink murder, but it sounds posh enough to have made up the majority of Winter’s childhood, so she doesn’t say anything else on the subject. Even though there’s probably only so many times you can play a murder game with three people before it gets boring. “Man, I hope you get impostor next round. I can’t wait to see you figure out how to do that.”
“Do what?” Winter asks, perfectly innocent.