raspberryturk | Room 429, Wednesday Morning

He really didn't want to go up to the roof, earlier, to gather up his jacket again. But he did. Had to see.

It was cold when he pulled it back on. Hadn't even been particularly cold out last night. Funny how that worked.

Didn't go too well with the usual Wednesday-morning hangover.

And damn, had he sent out a crapload of fruit baskets. Hopefully they would all get lost in delivery, as he had sent them out while he was pretty damn inebriated, or else the maybe-majority of the population of the island hadn't made the connection between microphone feedback and why they were getting them. Not that Reno cared. Reno was back in his room now, busying himself trying to fit the pieces of his laptop back together. He had a... report to write. By Friday.

This thrilled him to no end. Obviously.

His door was actually open a bit, today. Maybe to let out some of the cold that wasn't really in the air.

[Open for anyone who would like to drop by and rant about fruit baskets, or anything of the sort-- just keep in mind, I've got an hour before I have to leave for work, and then my availability is gone until later this evening.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"The mysterious Rude. Often mentioned, never seen. I'm starting to think he's your imaginary friend."

"Let's do this weekend over, I liked being seven," she said. "Better yet, let's rewind and go back to Mexico. I miss the sunshine."

"I wish he was imaginary," Reno mused, picking up what was quite possibly one-third of his spacebar and contemplating what to do with it for a moment. "Because I think I got him in so much shit this weekend, I'm gonna die a horrible death when I get back to Edge if he's real, yo."

He paused, frowned, and then just tried to snap the chunk of spacebar that he had back onto what might pass as a keyboard.

"Mexico's good. I ain't in no rush to be five again, yo."

"If we move time back to Mexico, maybe we can skip the aliens, and I can figure out how to admit that I like Romeo without the aid of an embarrassing musical number. Sounds like a win for everyone," Dōjima said, shaking her head. "All the people with powers around here, and no one has magical time travel abilities. What a waste."

"I can think of about a million uses for time-travel," Reno mused, poking over the items on his nightstand in search of the rest of his spacebar. "But all of 'em seem to defeat the point."

He located what was maybe another chunk of his spacebar, and started to wish that maybe he had thought to get some glue.

"Can think of a lot of things I'd like to undo, right about now."

"I bet."

Yurika chewed on her lip, suddenly looking very very young.

"Want a hand?"

She could be referring to the laptop.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, carefully considering the offer before his lips quirked into a bit of a wry smile.

"Probably need all the help I can get," he replied at last. "It's pretty busted up, right now."

Maybe he was referring to the laptop, too.

"You should see some of the shit I've broken," she teased, scooting to lean over his shoulder. "This one time, Tōko and I went on a bender in, god, um, London? Yeah, London, right before I got kicked out of that one school. See, there was this boy," she prattled on, digging around in her bag as she talked.

"...and the look on his face was priceless. I don't think they've ever managed to re-open that cafe," she mused, finally pulling out the object of her search. "Um, I have duct tape? It solves everything?"

Reno eyed the duct tape for a moment or two before reaching for it.

"Almost everything," he agreed.

Room 429, Wednesday Morning

Re: NFB from here, Plz!

Re: NFB from here, Plz!

Re: NFB from here, Plz!

Re: NFB from here, Plz!

Re: NFB from here, Plz!

Re: NFB from here, Plz!

Re: NFB from here, Plz!

Re: NFB from here, Plz!