Bliss: *strolls in from a shadowy corner of the room which has no door , cigarette in one hand, scotch double in the other, and utters a soft, velvet-over-graveled-steel laugh* Love Triangles? Let me tell you about Love Triangles. Because what you are talking about … are Jealousy Vees.
some of the recent minis for my campaign. The flail snail i had to make new stats for 5e, and he was a bad mutha. print em and use double side scotch tape or glue stick, then fold em in the horizontal center line to line up. ITS FUN! no really it is.
Tall. So tall. Legs. Legs and legs and legs. LEGS.
Breaking my five-year streak I believe I’m taking the rest of today as a personal day. At home. With the A/C cranked up to ‘polar’.
Jesus Christ. I don’t care if pouring a double Scotch at 9am is a bit much even for a WASP. There’s no way I’ll make it all the way to my elevator without some liquid courage. Note to self: fire Wink. Or move his desk. Or ban Kara from visiting him. But then when would I see her?
What the hell did they teach her on that wilderness retreat?
“I know it’s only 3 o’clock in the afternoon and I just ordered a double Scotch, but today has been rough, I have a driver, and I don’t have anywhere else to be. I’ll take your company, but I’ll totally pass on hearing your judgment.”
Left Blank was quiet tonight. A few patrons in the back, some at the bar and Jackson slid onto a stool around the corner so he could have a moment to himself. There was a lot on his mind lately and he had very few people to confide in. A very real urge to call Bruno because the man’s number was still in his phone and it has him ordering a double scotch right off the bat tonight. He misses his Dad and there’s the cruel thought that the joke is getting old, it’s time for Bruno to come home from whatever vacation he thought this would earn him. Soon. Soon they’d make the Initiative pay and that’s the only thing that had Jackson trying to clear his head at the bar, finishing his scotch in one go before he laid his head down, resting it against the back of his hand, a picture of too much comfort and too much familiarity with this bar. It’s not until someone slides beside him that he lifts his head, making sure it’s friend and not stranger.