"Yep," Zack said, as the members of the reserves gathered, "I'm still getting you guys to think about what happened a few weeks ago with the gremlins, this week
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Re: Talk to the Guys!bitch_princeFebruary 16 2010, 11:19:28 UTC
Arthur was... more than averagely acquainted with the idea of using loose debris, broomsticks, vases, chunks of--
Well, let's just say that improvisation was, at least, not one of his weaknesses. (He'd tell you this was because of years of training and discipline. He'd be lying. It was because Morgana had clocked him over the head and into a pond with a piece of horse manure somewhere around age 12 and he'd sworn he would never, ever be caught off guard again, on price of his ego)
He was there, contemplating the finer points of some of his previous encounters with such.
Re: Talk to the Guys!nevertobequeenFebruary 17 2010, 04:32:39 UTC
It really was a shame that there was no horse manure around, as Morgana was afraid clocking Arthur with a rock would be a bit of overkill. But just a bit.
"Arthur, did you happen to listen to the radio last night?" she asked as she went over to him. That counted as a proper greeting, honestly. "I found it very interesting."
Re: Talk to the Guys!bitch_princeFebruary 17 2010, 05:59:36 UTC
"You would have," Arthur agreed, ignoring that usual sense of dread (the little thing in his stomach that said 'Warning: Dragon Queen Approaching') with his usual sense of panache. "And whatever it is you have to say about it, I'm not hearing it."
Re: Talk to the Guys!nevertobequeenFebruary 17 2010, 18:35:42 UTC
Morgana's eyes narrowed as she gave Arthur one of her very best death glares. "Fine," she said. "Continue thinking whatever you like. It isn't as though I care anyway." The way she flounced away to try to keep him from seeing her expression falter was totally designed to make her words seem more truthful, of course.
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He probably would have killed the gremlin before it could take a large, messy bite out of his arm, for example...
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Well, let's just say that improvisation was, at least, not one of his weaknesses. (He'd tell you this was because of years of training and discipline. He'd be lying. It was because Morgana had clocked him over the head and into a pond with a piece of horse manure somewhere around age 12 and he'd sworn he would never, ever be caught off guard again, on price of his ego)
He was there, contemplating the finer points of some of his previous encounters with such.
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"You're not going to throw things at me, are you?"
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In whose direction, no one had to guess.
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"Arthur, did you happen to listen to the radio last night?" she asked as she went over to him. That counted as a proper greeting, honestly. "I found it very interesting."
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