shotup: (there should be no slaves)
[personal profile] shotup
Let's all take a moment to stop what we're doing and appreciate this exceptional human being.

[attachment.gif]

Look how majestic she is. There is no finer specimen of woman than she.

OK. Now that that's out of the way


[Locked from Laura Kinney:]

I need the most tried and true methods of drawing the socially awkward out of their shells. I know you have thoughts on this, Network. Don't fail me now.

P.S. Ollie your answers don't count I forgot to block you.
shotup: (pic#5323852)
[personal profile] shotup
[The feed turns on showing Roy's spartan looking MAC apartment. Nothing seems all that out of place, it just seems like your average evening in an average bachelor pad. That is, until Roy turns the camera on himself 'Blair Witch' style.]

Can you hear that? [He goes quiet, looking off to the side. In the background there is a faint rustling sound, followed by a soft cooing.] You can hear that, right? It's like pigeons or something. Except it's coming from inside the building.

[The image is a little shaky as he walks through the apartment, following the noises. Gradually, the cooing sound gets louder and is interrupted by some angry sounding clucks.]

Where the hell is it coming from?

[He's searched the entire apartment by now, leaving Roy standing before his front door. The enraged clucking is now unmistakable, along with chicken claws and beaks pecking and scratching at his door.]

Is this some kind of demented joke? Who lets chickens roam the halls of apartment buildings anyways? Can somebody call animal control?
shotup: (pic#5339100)
[personal profile] shotup
Unlike some people who shall remain unnamed [Ollie], I have no intention to stay camped out in Zatanna's house for any extended length of time. Not that I don't appreciate the kindness and hospitality, but I'm a grown man, there's no reason I can't get off my ass and get a place of my own. Zee, it's been great and you've been a terrific host, but it's time for me to move along. Thanks and hágoónee'.

Which brings up the topic of cash. So we get this stipend, but it turns out that $200 a week is barely enough to survive here. I know, I know, who could've predicted that? Anyway, long story short, I need a job. My criteria is basically that I don't wanna be digging ditches or working in some office somewhere. Practical skills include shooting things. And mechanical work, I'm real good at that, too. Computers, robots, cars, you name it, I can fix it.

And if I really gotta dig ditches for a living, I can do that, too. I got two arms and a strong back, why the hell shouldn't I put 'em to good use?
longbowhunter: (.glga - aww man)
[personal profile] longbowhunter
[The video starts up, showing a surprisingly bustle-y CVS. Or maybe it's a Duane Reade, it's hard to say, honestly. Either way, the familiar face most immediately visible is that of Roy Harper. He doesn't appear to know what he's doing.]

--No seriously, how do I get Bejeweled on this thing.

[Some ways away, halfway down another isle is Ollie. Roy (and thus, the video) move to follow him. He seems well... A little imbibed, but cheerfully so. He's looking over a the first aid stuff. Bandaids, ace bandages, that kind of stuff.]

Check this out, kiddo. You think this'd be good for James? I figure I gotta get 'im something.

[Roy's face is hidden from the view, but his sputtering can be heard.] How many months have you lived with this guy again? And wouldn't he already have one?

You know me, kiddo, I'd put Christmas off till January 15th if it weren't actually marked on all the calendars.

... That's still a really shitty gift. And I'm not helping you think this through without the benefit of Bejeweled. Besides, we're on a mission, old man.

[Roy grabs Ollie's sweater by the back, tugging him down several isles. It seems like a treacherous journey, from the camera work.]

How 'bout a can of Raid? That's always useful.

[When they stop again, they're by the refrigerated section, more specifically, the (rather pitiful) selection of beer.]

That's a shittier gift, unless you're actually looking to start a fist fight.

No, that's when you give somebody deoderant, boy. Haven't I taught you anything?

Not how to use Bejeweled, now shut up and pick your poison. We're supposed to get cookie dough, too.

[Roy starts pressing buttons again. First his hand covers the camera, and then it seems to go out altogether.]

-- I'm serious, these things have the dumbest--

We'll need organic milk, too.

If you wanna pay eight bucks for organic milk to go with your cookies, it's on you, old man. Freaking hipp--

[And on that note, the feed cuts altogether as Roy presses more buttons, eternally in search of Bejeweled.]
shotup: (pic#5245455)
[personal profile] shotup
[The camera turns on, mid-rant with Roy looking like he's just taken three or four hits to the face within the last minute or so. He's looking agitated and generally out of sorts, but that's par for the course around here, isn't it?]

-- know what the hell just happened, but whoever is in charge around here can you please do us all a favor and pull your head out of your ass for thirty seconds so I can go home and punch that little basta--

[He stops yelling quite abruptly. A second later, the reason why is apparent: his broken nose is healing itself. Like, completely. His face is now good as new, no signs of injury at all aside from the blood that is rapidly drying around his mouth.]

Maybe he hit me harder than I thought. Damn.

[He furrows his brow momentarily and wipes the drying blood from his upper lip.]

That's it, kids, I'm pulling rank. Outsiders, report in now or forever hold your peace. I want updates from each and every one of you. And if anyone else is listening in on this piece of crap, I need to know the fastest way out of this impostor-verse and back to actual NYC. I'm on a deadline here. Bedtime is in five hours and I need to tuck my kid in or I'm grounded.

((ooc: check out my permissions post por favor?))

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