≈ Eighteen [audio/english] (Morning after the masquerade)

[kazeyotsutaete]

[Ah fumble fumble, click. mrrr, Roll maybe had a bit too much wine at the party. She also doesn't remember much after hanging out with Bass.]

My mouth tastes like cotton.

[A long horrid pause as something hits her.]

... this isn't my room.

Comments

[audio: muffled]

[thursday_angel]

[Castiel's comm was on the couch with him, but it hits the floor and starts recording.]

Whossat?

...Roll? Why're you in my room?

[audio: muffled]

[standardpackage]

[What]

[audio]

[thursday_angel]

[Oh, there's a post. The audio is a lot louder now, but his face is pressed into the couch and slurs his words.]

What?

[audio]

[standardpackage]

What.