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[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

Jack storms into the bar. He is full of rage.

Yes, that is rage you see on his face, not constipation or a really bad sunburn. RAGE.

Have at. :)

[ ooc: el warning: mun's body is slowly dragging her towards the happy land of sleep. which means she will dissappear within the next...ten minutes or so. or maybe later than that. but soon! ]

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[song_tra_bong]

She blinks once.

Sets down her glass.

Blinks again.

And smiles very, very slowly.

Somewhere across the multiverse, Vikki Hasburg should fear that smile.

"Whatever shall I wear."

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"Whatever you like. As long as it's time-appropriate. And not your pajamas."

[song_tra_bong]

"Awww, and I have those cute ones with the ducks on them."

She takes a sip of vodka. "Is there a plan for this little get-together?"

As in: should I bring the knives, or will be improvising with the silverware?

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"Improvisation." Beat. "And nothing sharp and pointy."

He reads minds, yo. He's like Professor X. Except with hair.

[song_tra_bong]

And without being...but that would be a spoiler and wrong. So.

She pouts.

"Okay. Nothing sharp and pointy."

They'll still have forks, though, unless Jack intends that they eat with their hands.