Bit by bit, torn apart, we never win

[pluckyreporter]

WHO: Roxanne and well-wishers (plus one really angry alien)
WHERE: The Ritchi House
WHEN: December 30th, Friday Morning - January 6th, Friday.
WARNINGS: Should be none.
SUMMARY: Roxanne's busted up. Come visit.
FORMAT: Looooooooooog (Just leave a note on what day you're visiting in the subject line!)


Roxanne sure as hell wasn't going anywhere after her encounter with Hal. So she was all cozied up at home, with some really good post-surgery painkillers, a brain bot to warm her feet, and a whole week of not leaving the house for pretty much any reason at all. But she'd take visitors. Maybe. If you weren't Hal.

Comments

[someonetoscold]

"Eh, this place seems to get broken up every week, I'm sure it can take it."

He's poking a bit of fun here, hoping to cheer her up. He shifts the tips of his fingers into little biting mouths, Mario monster style, cheerfully making barking movements at the bot's eye.

[pluckyreporter]

She does laugh-- and does cheer, her smile returning. Even an arm in a cast can't quite get her down. Leaning back in her seat she says, "I don't I know if the budget can. It's a wonder Mayor Hundred hasn't lost his hair with all the stuff that he deals with."

The brainbot begins to bowg bowg moving more animatedly as it gets agitated. It's never seen anything do that before.

"He's totally going to take your hand off-- or make a try for it, if you keep that up," she warns, though she's smirking. She knows that it probably won't hurt Flint at all -- or he wouldn't risk it.

[someonetoscold]

"Things like that always got more bucks than they let on, y'know?"

He stretches his fingers into little dancing sand tentacles now, that sway in a relaxing sort of way."I can take it, no problem. Isn't that right, little robot guy?"

[pluckyreporter]

"Maybe they do. I mean, the Ciy's not leveled, so someone has deep pockets somewhere," Roxanne mused a moment on the subject. "Still, didn't stop me from helping out. Even if it was just getting on the silly holiday album."

Those bear trap jaws sag open and clink shut; the brainbot bowg bowgs again, before it turns it's single eye to Roxanne, obviously looking for instruction.

"Play nice," she says. "You know he plays fetch, too. Just have to use a wrench instead of a bone or frisbee."