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route_10652011-11-18 02:21 am
no-ufo-ending.livejournal.com) wrote in route_10652011-11-18 02:21 am
Entry tags:
Weird triggers.
Who: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
foolishwren and no_ufo_ending
Where: A dinky little diner in Ecruteak City
When: Backdated to November 2nd, early morning.
Summary: Blackmail and horrible chocolate milk-induced flashbacks are best shared between friends. Right?
Rating: PG13 because Silent Hill
Log:
See Henry.
See Henry smirk.
Smirk, Henry, smirk.
Like a cat on top of a pile of fresh laundry, Henry Townshend waited at one of the little tables in the Ecruteak diner for his adoptive sister to return with his promised breakfast. He leaned back in the chair and sort of molded into it. He was still slogging through his sugar-crash from Halloween. The poke'gear holding incriminating footage of miss Mason acting like a bird hopping in and out of their hotel window was safe in his shirt pocket. As he waited, he tugged it out and started fiddling with it.
8I Maybe he would take a picture of his victory breakfast.
Burger lounged at his feet with his long creepy tail wound hazardously around his trainer's legs. He was watching a hole in the far side of the room. He'd seen a purple rat disappear through it. >8I HE KNEW HE DID. Also, he was the best Glameow.
A huge yawn forced Henry to take a break from being a smug son of a bitch. He stretched his arms high above his head and oozed halfway out of the chair so that his knees buckled awkwardly. People staring? Fuck the police. At least for right now. He'd probably grow twitchy and withdrawn again eventually, but right now he was a BOSS.
foolishwren and no_ufo_endingWhere: A dinky little diner in Ecruteak City
When: Backdated to November 2nd, early morning.
Summary: Blackmail and horrible chocolate milk-induced flashbacks are best shared between friends. Right?
Rating: PG13 because Silent Hill
Log:
See Henry.
See Henry smirk.
Smirk, Henry, smirk.
Like a cat on top of a pile of fresh laundry, Henry Townshend waited at one of the little tables in the Ecruteak diner for his adoptive sister to return with his promised breakfast. He leaned back in the chair and sort of molded into it. He was still slogging through his sugar-crash from Halloween. The poke'gear holding incriminating footage of miss Mason acting like a bird hopping in and out of their hotel window was safe in his shirt pocket. As he waited, he tugged it out and started fiddling with it.
8I Maybe he would take a picture of his victory breakfast.
Burger lounged at his feet with his long creepy tail wound hazardously around his trainer's legs. He was watching a hole in the far side of the room. He'd seen a purple rat disappear through it. >8I HE KNEW HE DID. Also, he was the best Glameow.
A huge yawn forced Henry to take a break from being a smug son of a bitch. He stretched his arms high above his head and oozed halfway out of the chair so that his knees buckled awkwardly. People staring? Fuck the police. At least for right now. He'd probably grow twitchy and withdrawn again eventually, but right now he was a BOSS.