( Sansa isn't the best at navigating the network but she does know how to use some basic options here and there. She knows how to respond to a video in video and she knows how to send a text but at the moment, she's trying to send a text with photographs. The photographs in question are explicit for her: lying in bed with naught but a sheet to cover her, standing and turned to the side while wearing only her corset and chemise, a photograph of her with loose hair and parted lips that's close enough that she can see the blush in her skin. She attaches them to a text message and sends them out, hoping to surprise Miles with her new use of technology for his benefit. )

I attached a few things you may find interesting. Open them in a private place?

( When Sansa hears her own device chirp as soon as it's sent, she frowns a bit and checks her network timeline. Oh no. Oh no. She immediately makes an urgent post to the network while trying to figure out how to delete the original one. )

PLEASE DON'T LOOK AT MY LAST POST. IT WASN'T MEANT FOR EVERYONE! I DIDN'T MEAN FOR ANYONE TO SEE IT EXCEPT BABY.

( Sansa tosses the device away and calls Lady to her, deciding to simply hide in her house until she figures out how to delete that post and everyone has forgotten her face. )

( kimberly hart does not have time for this. this, of course, being the entire wishing well garbage. she's currently seated on one of the stone benches, elbows resting on her knees, one hand pressed firmly to the bridge of her nose as she tries her best to ignore the casual bitching of her friend in the background. her friend who is, you know, currently half in the water. her friend that's a goddamn fucking mermaid, with a great big giant floppy tail and everything, who just so happens to also not have a fucking shirt on.  

it's just a lot, okay, and kimberly isn't really prepared for it. she hasn't had nearly enough caffeine yet today, but she can't just sit here either. so. head up, face the camera, smile. go back to being a cheerleader, and just focus on getting through halftime. or something, whatever. she's a bit out of practice. )

Hey, so — ( and as soon as the words get out of her mouth, clary's high pitched freakout can be heard steadily rising in volume in the background; kimberly's whole body turns like a whip, voice snapping, ) Clary! Can you not!

( which, okay, maybe it's a little harsh, but. whatever. she's trying to help. )

Hey. So. Cadelle. Does anybody have, like, a wheelbarrow... or a hose... or one of those stupid Nerf water pistols? Because my friend here just turned herself into a goddamn mermaid — yes, Clary, I'm talking about you!

( more fingertips pinching the bridge of her nose. more deep breaths. she can do this. focus. think about yoga. )

Does anybody have anything that might help? Or know what kind of fish merpeople eat? Or... anything?

( please, for the love of god, anything. )

That'd be great. If you could, like, let me know? Or maybe come help out, if you've got stuff? Or — oh! — if anybody knows where I can get a kiddie pool? Yeah. That'd be good too.

( somebody help her. )

Anyway, yeah. That's... that's about it. Thanks? Okay, bye.

( end feed. )