CLOSED LOG // You never quite know what you have until it's gone
Who: Sakata Gintoki and Katsura Kotarou
What: A welcome-back party of sorts.
When: After the laser tag event
Where: 4-2
Warnings: Swearing and grown men acting like five year olds
Gintoki didn't have a mirror in front of him at the moment, but he was pretty sure he looked like absolute shit.
Well, perhaps less so now, considering it was four hours after his first shower since arriving back on the S.S. Thor three days ago (the first twenty hours in bed, trying to drinkforce himself back to sleep, as if that would magically bring him back to where he'd been). But he was sure the bags under his eyes from the subsequent lack of sleep the day after and his pants hanging low on his hips (he didn't have much of an appetite these past three days) were contributing to his all-around dirty hobo pallor.
All of this exposition was pointless, however, because at the moment, Gintoki didn't really give two shits if he looked like shit.
He didn't even really give two shits about the shit he was going to get for looking like shit from the shitty resident of 4-2 (the door he was currently knocking rather hard at, each knock forcing the door to hiccup in the middle of its pre-programmed ad for "Albino Away Melanin Juice"). There were more pressing matters at the moment, in any case.
What: A welcome-back party of sorts.
When: After the laser tag event
Where: 4-2
Warnings: Swearing and grown men acting like five year olds
Gintoki didn't have a mirror in front of him at the moment, but he was pretty sure he looked like absolute shit.
Well, perhaps less so now, considering it was four hours after his first shower since arriving back on the S.S. Thor three days ago (the first twenty hours in bed, trying to drinkforce himself back to sleep, as if that would magically bring him back to where he'd been). But he was sure the bags under his eyes from the subsequent lack of sleep the day after and his pants hanging low on his hips (he didn't have much of an appetite these past three days) were contributing to his all-around dirty hobo pallor.
All of this exposition was pointless, however, because at the moment, Gintoki didn't really give two shits if he looked like shit.
He didn't even really give two shits about the shit he was going to get for looking like shit from the shitty resident of 4-2 (the door he was currently knocking rather hard at, each knock forcing the door to hiccup in the middle of its pre-programmed ad for "Albino Away Melanin Juice"). There were more pressing matters at the moment, in any case.