145 comments, and counting...

[mnt_raph]

Okay, I'm going to try and summarize this beast of an ongoing conversation.
It starts the day after this conversation with Death.

Raph hasn't slept since Fleur left, and the only thing he's had to drink is his beloved JD. We begin the scene with Death dragging Raph into the bar with a killer of a hangover. Shortly after arriving Dionysus arrives with a pitcher of water and some soup. Bless him.

Then, much to Raph's chagrin, Tonks and Bernard appear with a very important question. There might have been some alpha-male posturing. Maybe just a little.

There's talk of the state of Raph's family. Wagers involving cookies are made and ultimatums are given.

Then it's Death's turn to share, and eventually let go. Declarations of friendship are exchanged, and the eternal question: What do turtles smell like? is answered. In the end it's all ruined by a Prancing John Constantine. Yeah, think about that for a while. If you don't share it with someone else, you'll die in Seven Days!

At some point between the part where Raph threatens Bernard with flatware and the prancing, Raph has a run-in with George. Raph might have been a tad on the brisk side with her. But totally undeserving of the treatment he gets in return. So of course he has to retaliate with flatware. It's like, the law, or somethin'. Things get very loud and Death steps in to bring some order to the scene, by threatening to put George out of a job.

In the end Raph blames Death, and there's nothing about spoon throwing fatalities. Nothing at all.


Edit
Gah! The lesson of the day is: proof read all posts for html errors before posting.
Dear lord, I'm so sorry.

Comments

[spiderine.livejournal.com]

On behalf of Mr. Constantine, I. Hate. You.

[mnt_raph]

It's the prancing, isn't it?

[leplusbeau]

Aw, their friendship is so fluffy and tramatic. Also. *kicks you with affection* Evil. Just FYI.

[mnt_raph]

Evil? Me? To heck you say. *grin*
*is affectionatley kicked*

[leplusbeau]

*pets for there is guilt for the kick*

To heck you say, you evil evil woman. My puppet is very sad! She's lost her friend. Lost lost lost. She wants to fiiiiiiiiiiiix it.

[mnt_raph]

Need I remind you that your puppet, quite literally, tossed my puppet aside? WOE and alack alack alack etc.

It's not Fleur, it's Raph. No, seriously. He knows he's out of control. But at least he now knows he didn't kills his family.

[leplusbeau]

Hello, barstool coming at lover's head. Love won that time. But she thought ahead! She asked Death to catch him. 'Cause she likes him and doesn't want to see his brain matter scattered all over the floor.

She's going to be all "whore, you have been ignoring me!" next time she sees him. She'll cry at him soon. *guilts*

[mnt_raph]

It just seems odd to Raph that his security blanket would put the safty of one man in an explosive vest, before the safty of a room full of people.

Okay, that may be Raph-mun projected onto Raph. Raph just saw someone threatening something he percieved as his. That being the Bar and Fleur, by the way.

Heh, here's hoping she cries at him first, cause he's a marshmallow once you get past the exterior. Course, he also doesn't have a problem hitting people, reguardless of gender.

[leplusbeau]

His? Wow, didn't see it that far. New dimensions! I love my fellow players! They give me so much ammo.

She's at the point where next time they are in the same room she is just going to grab and wail at him just to hit her, hate her, or forgive, anything just talk to her. She is actually very angsty about it. Really. She's just been distracted by Ophelia waking and Bernard being all "oh, I'm alive! SEX!".

[mnt_raph]

I can see where that would be distracting.
*heh*

[wickedtrue.livejournal.com]

Again with the evil and the Boston. You Yanks and your heh. It will always confuse me. I had to drag the roommate from Boston over to the computer and make her figure out if you were being sarcastic or discouraging conversation. 'Cause I am that special. *heads desk*

No, really though, there is angst and there will be pouncing. It'll be good. Secretly, I know you like me. Very secretly.

[mnt_raph]

You needed to get a real live English to Boston, Boston to English dictionary? SWEET!

The War of Northern Confusion continues!

Um, anyway... I wasn't being sarcastic or discouraging conversation, but rather being amused. Hope that helps.

It's not a secret. I do like you. You're evil.
I was talking with Death-mun last night, and we've decided that Milliways needs a superhero team. Captian Wibble and the Wibble-teers. You see, Angst, Smut, ...crap, I can't remember them all, and the history on my IM only has stuff I do on this computer. Blast, I'll have to get back to you.

[wickedtrue.livejournal.com]

Yes, and I got smacked in the head for my troubles. I can never tell when sarcasism is in play. I'm being yelled at that the fried chicken has made my brain wonky. I plan to hide the remote so she can't watch that replay of her Sox game. 'Cause I'm evil.

Wah! I am not competent enough to write porn to be smut! Wah.

[mnt_raph]

Oooh, that's dirty pool, hiding the remote when the Sox are playin'. Dirty pool.

[leplusbeau]

I was removed from the computer for causing chaos. Bad roommates, no cookies for them.

And the new post is a sad thing. In the "oh, he doesn't need to be so sad!" kind of way. Wah. Very wah.

[mnt_raph]

*rereads post*
Gah, more typos. Is it possible for me to type something without mucking it up?

Awww, it wasn't supposed to be sad, just confused and ... well lacking in any decernable point.