A mixture of money and a lot of whinging, and I am totally not above whinging.
I'M SO FUCKING PSYCHED. Halloween is going to be awesome. Fucking amazing. Where are we going? Shit. Should we make a schedule or just bounce from party to party?
You're, like, supreme master at it. Seriously. And I mean that in only the best of ways. With supreme awe and shit.
You've seriously gotta tell Nurse Evelyn that I don't need crutches anymore. Because what the fuck. Halloween itinerary is not being messed with via dumbass medical equipment.
We can go wherever you want, babe. We'll draw up a fucking game plan or something, I have no idea. All I know is that there's a Lewis Carol Steampunk Haunted House going on somewhere and there will be a pit-stop in that area. Because, seriously, they shoved some LSD into clockwork and corsets and bustles. There is no downside to this.
That's - only mildly terrifying. Gotta say. I mean, it'd be incredibly badass and I have absolutely no doubt that she would fill out the outfit in a manner both incredibly intriguing and disgustingly attractive - but, Jesus H. Christ on a moped, all that and a bullwhip? Fuck.
I, uh - yeah. That's me. With the his and the being Zelos thing. Both, really. I'd say the being Zelos thing a bit more since, y'know, been that for a long time, but not really. The first one more maybe. There's that whole thing with names and roses to take into consideration. By any other and all that.
I would rather think of you as Cocytus' than my father's, though I daresay that Zeus might disagree. You enjoy your names and roses; even if I am not Korē, I can appreciate this.
Yeah, I could see where you might get that urge. So I can totally be Cocytus' for you. I'm his anyway and shit, I guess, so - yeah. Not a bad thing to be. Ain't gonna hear me protesting, that's for damn sure. I know when I'm a lucky sonnovabitch. No shame in admitting that.
And I just mean that you're you no matter what you get called. It's just a name, yeah?
Playwright. And shit. Wrote lots of sonnets. Occasionally to other dudes.
Rubber and leather? I - Not that I - Uhm. Not that anyone wouldn't, ma'am - Is there a right answer to this question? Baby? Help. I mean, she's kind of a badass. Blatantly ignore the lies portrayed by Halle Berry, stick with Michelle Pfeiffer. Seriously. Or go real old school. Much better that way. But, uh - your husband might like it? You're kinda smokin'. just as a general and totally impartial observationy note.
I quite see why my river is so charmed by you, I do. Child of a river, lover of a river; you have rather a lot of the Underworld in you, Zelos. (And, yes, any and all puns and double entendres are entirely intentional.) Do you think I should venture out in a Catwoman costume? I fear I would terrorise the local populace and then where would we be?
If he didn't, the dude has a convincing as shit ghostwriter.
Lover is such a weird-ass word. Loooover Honestly? I think you kinda double entendred that to, like, the sixth power or something there - if you don't mind me saying, ma'am. It was a whole lot of entendre. And, really, I don't think that the local populace would be terrorized so much as howling after you like bitches in heat really really interested. Like, a lot. I'd imagine.
Are you frightened of me, Zelos? Of course, you would be wise to be frightened of me. It is a necessary evil. I can assure you that you have quite touched the heart of this Iron Queen.
And a bitching Nightwing outfit.
Y'know. Just sayin'.
Also: Does that make your Boss Lady Catwoman?
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I'M SO FUCKING PSYCHED. Halloween is going to be awesome. Fucking amazing.
Where are we going? Shit. Should we make a schedule or just bounce from party to party?
Hell yes it does.
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You've seriously gotta tell Nurse Evelyn that I don't need crutches anymore. Because what the fuck. Halloween itinerary is not being messed with via dumbass medical equipment.
We can go wherever you want, babe. We'll draw up a fucking game plan or something, I have no idea. All I know is that there's a Lewis Carol Steampunk Haunted House going on somewhere and there will be a pit-stop in that area. Because, seriously, they shoved some LSD into clockwork and corsets and bustles. There is no downside to this.
That's - only mildly terrifying. Gotta say. I mean, it'd be incredibly badass and I have absolutely no doubt that she would fill out the outfit in a manner both incredibly intriguing and disgustingly attractive - but, Jesus H. Christ on a moped, all that and a bullwhip? Fuck.
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Don't eat me. Please.
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By which I mean: Yeah. Nice to meetcha, ma'am.
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And I just mean that you're you no matter what you get called. It's just a name, yeah?
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Tell me more about this Catwoman idea- you see me in rubber and leather, do you?
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Rubber and leather? I - Not that I - Uhm. Not that anyone wouldn't, ma'am - Is there a right answer to this question? Baby? Help. I mean, she's kind of a badass. Blatantly ignore the lies portrayed by Halle Berry, stick with Michelle Pfeiffer. Seriously. Or go real old school. Much better that way. But, uh - your husband might like it? You're kinda smokin'. just as a general and totally impartial observationy note.
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I quite see why my river is so charmed by you, I do. Child of a river, lover of a river; you have rather a lot of the Underworld in you, Zelos. (And, yes, any and all puns and double entendres are entirely intentional.) Do you think I should venture out in a Catwoman costume? I fear I would terrorise the local populace and then where would we be?
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Lover is such a weird-ass word. Loooover Honestly? I think you kinda double entendred that to, like, the sixth power or something there - if you don't mind me saying, ma'am. It was a whole lot of entendre. And, really, I don't think that the local populace would be terrorized so much as howling after you like bitches in heat really really interested. Like, a lot. I'd imagine.
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You're kinda fantastic yourself, ma'am.
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