(Qannen) who's h*rny for a lil' torture?

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Qannen: falling gloriously back into her own bed, sighing luxuriously, then popping up on her knees and twerking, watching herself in her mirror, going "Uh, uh, uh."

Her hands are still tied together through all of this btw.

The boy with the eyes, watching Qannen, shaking his head. "I'm. This was a terrible idea. I regret every aspect of this."

Qannen immediately stops and glares at him. "WHAT. This is so much better than the Thornes? Are you kidding me? Hair, tell him. Tell him to shut his beautiful face or you're going to punch him. And then you do punch him, and you start to fight and you wrestle each other to the ground and then suddenly... you're kissing, you're making out with unbridled passion." Gesturing vaguely at them both as well as she can with her hands bound. "Do that right now."

The boy with the hair shrugs at the boy with the eyes. "It's much more comfortable here at least."

The boy with the eyes: "There are huge windows. Any zonny could see us in here. And there are two bedrooms in this apartment, she doesn't even live alone! This is seriously not going to work, the longer we stay here the more we jeopardize our mission. We have to get out of here."

Qannen: "It'll be fine. Qynka barely even knows I exist anymore. Don't stress! It'll be fine. We'll be completely alone here, I'm serious."

Hair: "I agree it's not ideal but I extremely don't want to go back to the Thornes."

Eyes: "John, be serious, there's no way we'll be able to maintain our anonymity or keep her hidden if we're in her actual apartment."

Qannen: "What, what did he just call you?"

Eyes: "...John?"

Qannen: "Are you going to let him get away with that? You should stand up for yourself."

Hair: "That's? my name?"

Qannen: "It's your WHAT?"

Hair: "John. My name. John."

Qannen (Long pause & stare. A prank is being played.): "That's so boring. How do you even say it. Jron?"




"I don't...?" She looks to Eyes for help. "What is he saying?"


"Wait tell me again I forgot it already."

"Never mind."

Qannen: "I'll be honest, I just assumed Cute Hair and Cute Eyes were your actually names at this point."

Eyes: "I'm Rob, since we're doing formal introductions apparently."


Eyes: "Rob is a completely different name from John."

Qannen: "What the FUCK are you talking about."

Eyes (pointing at him and his friend): "Rob. John."

Qannen: I am going to punch both of you so hard if you don't start having normal names."

(Both Hair & Eyes look very tired.)

Qannen (trying very hard, enunciating very slowly): "Dzzahn."

Hair/Dzzahn: "Fine."

Qannen looks at Eyes, squints, thinks. "Grobe."

Eyes/Grobe: "No."

"I'm done talking about this, Dzzahn and Grobe. I actually don't feel that well. And it's not just because of your dumb names. I think it might be due to Delayed Outfit Syndrome, which is a real thing that people are afflicted with due to lack of frequent clothing brand interactions. Who wants to untie me so I can change? And yes, Dzzahn, before you even ask, you can watch."

"No," Grobe says. "We're leaving, immediately. Everything about this was a bad a idea. Come on. Now."

He turns toward the door but Qannen hops up, shimmies off the bed. "No! Wait! Hold on!" She stands still for a moment, looking around the room, looking at the rope binding her wrists. "Ummm. Sorry." She twists her wrists in toward each other and then pulls them free, the rope falling uselessly to the floor. "Sorry, no offense, I was just trying to be on the team. But look!"

Qannen pulls a sheet off the bed, jumps up on the chair at her makeup desk, hangs the sheet over the window, making the room darker. "These sheets are Linultima, by the way, I know you don't care but I'm just saying. So no zonnys can peep. Then,"

Qannen hops off the chair and taps the far wall, casting the room in moody, dim lighting. "Vibes." She steps back and looks around the room. "OK then we move this bed. Dzzahn, you help." Together they push the bed back closer to the closet.

"And fuck this desk," Qannen says, sweeping everything off her makeup area onto the floor in one swift motion, scattering trash across the room, then upending the desk against the window. "Backdrop," Qannen says, pointing to the now blank expanse of one wall. She kneels down and paws through the makeup strewn across the floor, shoving things out of the way, tossing things under her bed until she finds whatever she's looking for. A palette with 60 gradients of black eye shadow, from Licorice to Ash. She swipes her hands across the palette and then across the wall, smudging it, patting it. "OK so look. Dirt, mold, whatever we want." She steps back, looks at her hands, then wipes them on her face and neck making herself look even more dirty and debased than she is/feels.

Then she kicks more shit under her bed and pulls the chair from her makeup table in front of the wall. "OK granted this is a nice chair but I'll distress it. And obviously a different outfit for me." Qannen looks around the room, then points to the right of where Grobe is standing. "Camera will go there." She points between the chair and the bed. "My handsome assailant here."

Qannen sits on the chair and puts her hands behind her back as though they're still tied. She looks up at the boys, her face completely normal, and then in an instant everything about her face and body and energy completely change. She's sad, exhausted, terrified, fearful, crying. "Please," she pleads, her lip trembling. "Please don't hurt me. I swear I'll do whatever you want, PLEASE!" She struggles, cries in frustration, unable to get out of her bonds. "I don't understand, why are you doing this to me?" She looks at Dzzahn, actual tears forming in her eyes. Minute muscles in her neck and forehead tremble and thrum. Everything about her transmits coded messages that read: *I am in trouble please help me.

The boys stare at her. "And scene," Qannen says, and everything about her immediately reverts back to normal. She smiles, very pleased.

Dzzahn moves to clap but Grobe stops him with a withering glance.

"Come on," Dzzahn says, "That was pretty convincing."

"I'm telling you, I'm actually an amazing actress," Qannen says. "People don't even know this about me but I totally could have gone to Eternal High. Daddy only sent us to High/Low because he knew it would be more frustrating."

Grobe sighs, aware that he is losing an argument.

"OK? Good?" Qannen asks. "Can we block out the scene? Start on me, pan back to weapon, you do your speech, etc?"

"It's not a scene," Grobe says.

"I'm being so helpful," Qannen says. "You're welcome. We're halfway done. Do you want to waste more time and start from scratch back in the Thornes or do you want to just get your message out there right now and start effecting positive change?"

"She's right," Dzzahn says. "Let's just get this done."

Grobe fumes quietly, annoyed.

"Come onnnn," Qannen pleads. "Let's torture me to promote awareness. Who's ready? Who's pumped? Who's horny for a lil' torture? Grobe?" Qannen pauses, eyeing Grobe up and down, then turns to Dzzahn. "Grobe is for sure."


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