(no subject)

[gotmyending]

#1

[Billy wasn't really paying attention in this potion brewing today. No surprise there. But now he's starting to mix things he thinks are right. They're not. What are they going to do - fail him? He's not really scared of that. Really, things like party class are more his speed. Would you like to stop him? Encourage him to continue?]


#2
[Billy's stopped in a hallway of the academy with a small dog, who he's having a one-sided conversation with.]

You got the paw thing down. Come on, you can do this. I know you can! Play dead. PLAY. DEAD.

[There's some accompanying hand gestures, but the dog just sits there calmly. Care in interrupt?]


#3
[You're Billy's roommate! Aren't you lucky. And today, he's tearing the place apart, your things included. Seems like he's lost something. He seems to be finding random things in the mess, one of them being a handgun, which he's now holding like it's nothing as he turns to you.]

Have you seen my journal?

Comments

3

[strongestoftheturks]

[Does he looked impressed Billy? Rude raises an eyebrow at the question and frowns.]

No.

3!

[notjustinthemirror]

[Have the best roommate in all of history. A demon in a mask, who is currently looking less than amused that you're rooting through his alcohol, baseball bats, crowbars, bludgeoning devices and questionable choices in shirts.]

No. I have better things to do than read your diary.

Re: 3!

[gotmyending]

[I can assure you Billy's choices in shirts are also questionable.

He nods and points, as if he's on to you, man. Still holding that gun, too. There's a little orange tag dangling from the butt with his name in it.]

Okay, good. Because I wasn't kidding around when I wrote that stuff on the cover about no one touching it.

[He picks up one of your alcohol bottles amongst the blunt instruments, and gives you a concerned look.]

You sure got a lot of these. Don't tell me you have a drinking problem.

[gotmyending]

Well it's gotta be here somewhere! It expressly says for no one to touch it on it. Here, hold this.

[He will just hand over that gun like it's nothing and continue rooting around the room.]

[strongestoftheturks]

[Rude takes the gun, slips the safety back on, and places it back on a cupboard on his side of the room. As he crossed over, he took note of the mess around the whole room and made a mental note to establish clearer boundaries of what his room mate can and can not touch, especially if it's on his side.]

Re: 3!

[notjustinthemirror]

[Go ahead and shoot him Billy. He'll happily get black ooze all over your stuff. Including your stupid journal.]

Was it surrounded in flowers and you dotted your I's with little hearts?

[He grabs his bottle back.]

Yeah yeah. Throw me a goddamn intervention.

[gotmyending]

[Good move there, Rude. The gun also has a little tag on a string dangling from it, with Billy's name on it. How helpful.

He'll be hit by a tossed shirt as Billy keeps searching.]

Oh, hey! There's my hat.

[strongestoftheturks]

[His eyes narrow slightly as he pulled the shirt off him. Thank goodness for shades, or Billy might feel the full-force of his disapproving glare, practised over the years with having Reno as a room mate.]

#2

[soangryicouldtinkle]

Hey.

Hey buddy.

You want help with that?

[gotmyending]

I will, if I have to. With one of those signs and everything. The whole nine yards.

[He also picks up a crowbar, looks is over, and then tosses it aside.] You're a mess, man. Look at this disorganization. That's a sign of a scattered mind.

[notjustinthemirror]

I'd like to see you try.

[He crosses his arms and glares. Not visible behind the mask, but you can probably feel it.]

You want me to organize my crowbars? What the hell for?

[Come on man, you're lucky he even washes those after hitting people with them.]