ONE HUNDRED TWENTY

[tehpuck]

[Voice Post | | Accidental]

[Robin's voice is slurred, mumbling to himself and anyone around, as it wanders into the path of the computer's recording device. He's been fiddling around with the thing for the past few hours, in between drinks, he only now finally gets it to work, if not on the setting he'd wanted it.]--'ll burn a hole in the- in

Comments

[captainshort]

[sigh.] ... Robin.

[tehpuck]

Holly! We're- [Thunk. Not on, coffee table, not on.] You can fly.

[captainshort]

[And she's rolling her eyes as she's flying, weaving through the splashes of marinara raining through the air.] Brilliant observation, Robin. I'm trying to get home through this shower of... Are you alright?

[tehpuck]

I'm f-... Yes. Are you? I'm fine. Are you fine?

[captainshort]

You don't sound fine. You sound drunk.

[Lightly, bordering on dry.] Oh, I'm alright. It never hurt red hair to add more red, right?

[tehpuck]

'S better drunk.

Don't- that's dangerous. D-don't.