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Romeo's nineteenth birthday started with a package from his father containing a collection of Lord Byron's works, a dagger that was about twice as elaborate as anything Romeo had any business carrying, and a letter that suggested -- in a polite, backhanded, and elaborate way -- that Romeo was missed and should make it his business to visit Verona sooner rather than later.
There was also a large box of chocolates. They were good. Romeo ate the caramels as his breakfast. He should have been reading about the equilibrium point in supply and demand, but that kept turning into perusal of the poetry. Really, the poetry struck him as more relevant.
[OOC: For the girlfriend, or for birthday emails/calls/texts/homing pigeons.]
There was also a large box of chocolates. They were good. Romeo ate the caramels as his breakfast. He should have been reading about the equilibrium point in supply and demand, but that kept turning into perusal of the poetry. Really, the poetry struck him as more relevant.
[OOC: For the girlfriend, or for birthday emails/calls/texts/homing pigeons.]
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Date: 2009-11-12 02:12 am (UTC)Yeah, Mako! Bite his face! Atta weasel! Atta dumbass ninja-weasel-goose! Who's a dumbass? Is it you? Is it you, Mako?
And then, a moment later, Reno put the phone to his mouth to add, "but then we would'a had to find pet-sitters for our backup singers, yo."
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Date: 2009-11-12 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-12 09:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-12 12:18 pm (UTC)Oh, Reno. You already are a real cranky Turk. Silly boy.
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Date: 2009-11-12 01:18 pm (UTC)A beat. "Please don't come visit with anything that will vomit."
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Date: 2009-11-12 01:31 pm (UTC)Reno had never eaten raw octopus. Reno was planning on keeping it that way.
Unless he was very drunk and somebody dared him to try it, of course. There were standards that he had to set, here.