sunlight rested over Cherrilane’s Sui that afternoon, drawing Meirhärt’s Leesol into the moment. after finding their way back to each other, they spent the day picking cherries, sharing bites, and laughing together, moving from tree to tree without really keeping track of time. cherry juice marked their hands, laughter lingered between glances, and the sweetness of the day stayed with them longer than expected, as time seemed pleased to see them together again, already waiting for the day they would return side by side. 🤍🍒

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“YOUNG AND DUMB, MY JEANS ALL RIPPED UP, I DON’T CARE IF I’M A MISFIT.”

(ROCK ‘N’ ROLL!) we at our threshold to this desolate, endangered the entirety of the buffoonery and whirl. Endamage all the six-strings, chanting ‘til our throat aching, resonance of the drums overfill the vacuous on the asteroid. Analytic for the absent personage who could whirl, tandem: looking for their forgotten-soul between 1998-2010, allowing ALL GENDER to examine the particles that forsaken on their symphonize. Douse your tweedy garments, strike a pose! Catch your available seat and make sure to be well-prepared for our mirth, check it on our licenced page: OUR FACES LIST.

Hurling my overtunes! There, mind about this jotter that deliver me to what lies ahead. Packed with scrumptious fortitude (NAME + USERNAME.) launching with my enticing identity, MUSE. Take a note, i’m pleased to strike a pose. #SPRESS

Ready to make the world live in our FULL OF PUNK VIBES? Catch us on @SKATERIEZBOT. (CHASE YOUR DREAM, LIVING LIKE A ROCKSTAR!)
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Cherrilane’s Sangwon ends up spending the day at a workshop with Mistlesoir’s Anxin, a place that feels loud even before anyone starts working. Tools are scattered everywhere, parts half-pulled apart, and the smell of oil sticks to everything. Sangwon squats near the car, grinning like he knows something’s about to go wrong, while Anxin digs through a messy pile of wrenches, laughing and complaining at the same time. Something metal drops to the floor, drinks get placed way too close to engine parts, and no one really bothers to fix the mess. Inside, engines stay open mid-process, conversations overlap with clanking tools, and nothing follows a plan. The mood stays chaotic, playful, and alive—half fixing things, half making them worse, just hanging around and letting the workshop decide how the day goes.