before this whole thing happened.

He was taking his nights back now.

Seph growled and hooked his finger around the rami, tugging harshly. It felt squishy and slightly fuzzy and stretched as he tugged at it, and he let it go. Rather than snapping back as rubber might, it slowly regathered itself, tightening, definitely in a rather annoyed way. It began to thrum and he patted it.

"Just you wait," he muttered, stifling a yawn, "just you wait, you," and he looked over the recorder, left and right and underneath, searching for a powerlip, which he finally discovered in a weird place at the base of the player's mouth. He nudged it apart, then found his charger, swiveled it around a couple of times, then gently plucked out the charge and pressed it into the lip.

For a moment the player didn't move, and he felt panicked — no — he had to sleep tonight — but then the player gave a purring noise, and quickly Seph grabbed one of the records and gently, gently laid it on the table.

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