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(no subject)

"Oh, Goddammit."

Roxie has discovered that she is not, in fact, Roxie, but someone else who happens to be currently occupying her spot.

((In this post—players become stuck in the bodies of their characters on the meatship! Oh my!))

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"I'm pretty sure all it would take is for him to drink my coffee. Oh God, I shouldn't have said that!"

"Why, what's so bad about your coffee?"

"Have you seen what happens to journalists in movies when they don't get their coffee? We're talking rivers of blood, hellfire and enough typos to make Samuel Johnson's corpes rise from the grave and throw dictionaries at innocent children!"

There is a lot of gesticulation to go with this.

"It's not pretty."

"Ohhhh. So he brings out your inner beast. I get it."

Pause.

"But! Would he DO that?"

"If it means he eventually gets me to stalk the street in scaly green underwear? I wouldn't put it past him."

"But that sounds so devious."

"We are talking about the guy who dresses young boys in brightly coloured leotards and has them fight deranged psychopaths, right?"

"Oh yeah."

Anders thinks for a while.

"Can I see the Bat-pecs?"

Thinks some more.

"Wait, is that objectification? I can't tell. I'm a girl. I don't get called out on objectification."

"Hey, I'm of the opinion that all this vigilantism is just a pretense to cover the fact that he works out to impress the ladies. You're doing him a service."

We might need a cup to catch these bad boys in.

"I'm just glad to have a chest that you can't see my heart through, for a change."

Anders-in-Zuko squeals happily.

Yeah.

"Polaroid time!"

[Click!]

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