http://h-townshend.livejournal.com/ (
h-townshend.livejournal.com) wrote in
paradisalost2008-02-09 10:36 pm
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[dictated/transcribed]
[a soft knocking sound]
Star?
((ooc: Henry's up checking out the kickass art nouveau on floor 22, which is his favorite art style. People on/around 22 can feel free to bump into him, as long as they're nice? Not looking to get him into any trouble this go-round.))
[a soft knocking sound]
Star?
((ooc: Henry's up checking out the kickass art nouveau on floor 22, which is his favorite art style. People on/around 22 can feel free to bump into him, as long as they're nice? Not looking to get him into any trouble this go-round.))
Recorded;
good job Henryso, uhh, Alex is a bitch and taking Star's seat now]You move, you lose.
Recorded;
Wha- Hey! There's enough room on the couch for all of us! That was my spot!
[Lol, and to be a jerk, he sits on her and sprawls across the whole couch]
Recorded;
[Henry eyes the other two warily from his spot up on the arm, staying put for the moment but watching in case a random limb comes flying his way]
Recorded;
Recorded;
[And Star kinda flops around and sort of flails and grinds into his spot just to be annoying.]
Is that the best you can do?
Recorded;
[Henry sort of laughs quietly but doesn't bother to interfere]
Recorded;
Recorded;
[And Star gets kicked enough that he rolls off her and the couch onto the floor. AT LEAST HE HADN'T OPENED HIS BOTTLE YET.]
Recorded;
[And Henry ends up on the floor with most of his cup of coffee spilled down the front of his shirt]
JESUS CHRIST--
[he drops the cup reflexively and pulls the shirt away from his skin to try to get the burning to stop]
Recorded;
Shitshitshit--
Sorry, Henry! [looking around, trying to find a towel or something]
Recorded;
Fuck-
[Star puts down his bottle and then goes to his dresser to find Henry another shirt.]
Take it off, I'll give you something else.
Recorded;
[And he complies gladly, pulling the shirt off as he stands and using it to sop up some of the residual liquid on his chest. He looks...really damn thin, compared to how he used to look, and the faint lines of scars that have been partially healed criss-cross his pale skin. And of course, there are the numbers on his neck... Once he's not in MORTAL AGONY anymore he stoops to pick up the discarded cup]
...sorry about that.
Recorded;
Don't be, it was my fault. Or [mock glare] Star's for starting it.
Recorded;
Well, you shouldn't have stolen my seat.
[Star grabs a black hoodie out of his dresser and checks the size to make sure it's one of the larger ones before holding it out to Henry. He doesn't seem to mind or pay attention to all the scars and skinniness. He knew what tough times did to a person.]
Will this be alright?
Recorded;
Yeah, that's fine, thanks.
[Henry pauses to set the cup back up on the counter and toss his sopping wet shirt in the trash before crossing the room to fetch the hoodie from Star]
...at least it didn't end up in my lap. [he chuckles a bit and zips the hoodie up]
Recorded;
Yeah, really. Since I don't think either of us have pants that would fit you.
Recorded;
Yeah, good thing. Burnt weener doesn't taste too good.
[He snorted and then went back to sit down next to Alex like a NORMAL person this time, reclaiming his bottle.]
You don't, Alex? How does Badou still manage to wear your pants then?
Recorded;
[And Henry immediately blushes again]
[his mouth opens for a moment as if he's on the verge of a snappy comeback, but he closes it again and wanders back over to get a plain glass of water, trying to hide the fact that he's bright red]
Recorded;
deadpans:]Beats me, you'd have to ask him.
Recorded;
Girl pants. Can you get any more queer?
[Star opens his bottle and takes a swig before leaning back and looking at Henry.]
You've never worn girl pants, have you?
Recorded;
[Henry takes his glass of water and finds a spot to sit on the floor near the couch, facing the other two, curling up cross-legged with his elbows resting on his knees. At Star's question he raises an eyebrow, then shakes his head.]
Can't say that I have. Kind of a frightening thought, really.
Recorded;
[and Alex laughs, then reflexively reaches for her glass only to realize it must have rolled onto the floor - so then she has to awkwardly put her hand down and act like she wasn't doing anything, since she doesn't feel like picking it up and refilling it]