Ranar_PerfectPetal
It was the required handle, she had noticed. Every other participant in the conversation had something similar — their first name followed by their business.Ranar. Sumi clicked his name wondering if he had bothered adding a profile. He hadn’t. Username, He/Him. Nothing else. Sumi scrolled to the bottom of the page, expecting more disappointment.Three mutual servers.
She blinked. She had gone a bit of a spree after first signing up on the platform, joining more than a dozen different servers. A forum for sharing 90s pop-culture. Servers for plants, servers for teachers. AComing Gnomeserver, hilariously. She tried to imagine the handsome naga as a fan of the movie franchise from her childhood, and couldn’t do it.
She tapped the screen.Which three could they be? Who are you other than an asshole, Ranar_PerfectPetal?The Flower Market. Unsurprising, given his profession. She had joined the server months and months earlier, after learning that folks occasionally traded clippings of rare houseplants, in addition to heirloom flower seeds. The Vinery. She nearly choked on the sip of wine she had just taken. This was the houseplant server she had joined when her little philo was limping along, the serverin which she had met ChaoticConcertina. The last server was, unsurprisingly, the Cambric Creek Business Owner’s Coalition.How?
The sun went in and her automatic lights flickered on, as she hunched over the screen, squinting. She could figure this out methodically, she decided. Starting with the house plant server, she proceeded to tap on every member, assessing their profile.She/Her, one shared server. He/Him, one shared server.One by one, Sumi had made it through nearly the entire list, only finding a few people with whom she shared more than membership in The Vinery, and all three of them were only additionally in The Flower Market.
She didn’t understand.Is he covert? Is this just a weird glitch? This is just the app glitching, right?So convinced was she that her phone was malfunctioning, that she stopped before even reaching the bottom of the server list, restarting her phone and checking to see if the app needed an update. Reopening DiscHorse, she quickly tapped back to Ranar’s profile.Three shared servers.Sumi pursed her lips. Back to The Vinery. She was nearly at the bottom of the list, she realized, only three names left. Someone she had never interacted with a single time, herself . . . and ChaoticConcertina.
Something moved within her, a stone turning in her stomach, sitting heavily on her insides. She felt queasy, almost able to catch a slight whiff of that rotting, rancid smell from the garbage bin outside her shop door. Her finger was trembling as she reached forward, tapping on his name.
He/Him. Three shared servers.
The Vinery. The Flower Market.
And the Cambric Creek Business Owner’s Coalition.
Sorry Is the Hardest Word
Ranar
ChaoticConcertina:I hate being mean to people.
I hate the way it makes me feel.
Even when I think it’s justified, and even when itisjustified.
I hate the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach,
the knowledge that I’ve just ruined someone’s day.
And then I think I’m just being needlessly narcissistic.
ChaoticConcertina:Because who am I? I’m a nobody!
Why should my words matter?
But then I see in the other person’s eyes that theydidmatter, and I hate myself for it.
Even if I meant what I said, the second it’s out, I just want to beg for forgiveness.
And I hate that too.
PinksPosies&Pearls:I know exactly what you mean.
Sometimes I have no ability to hold it the mean thoughts in my head
And I’m never mean first, at least, I try not to be.
I’m not a confrontational person.
There are just some people who bring it out in us, I guess.
People think the ability to say exactly what you mean the moment you want to say it
is a gift, but I think getting tongue-tied is better.
