nookiepowered: (dubious (umm...))
"What the shit?"

Bo might not remember where she was, how she got there in general or the floor in particular, why she wasn't wearing much of anything on the top half of her body, the name of the blonde whose head was currently cutting off the circulation to her left arm, or even her own name, but her FCC-noncompliant vocabulary hadn't gone anywhere, so that was something, right? Right?

[For the blonde!]
nookiepowered: (action (water is wet))
Bo never knew whether she loved or hated the island on nights like this. In the hate column, she'd just been walking down the street minding her own business (and if that street happened to go past the art supplies n' birth control megastore no longer an official franchisee according to corporate, it was none of your business) when at least a gallon of freezing cold water -- and freaking ICE CUBES -- came pouring down out of the sky onto her head. Right in front of Tamsin's place because of course she was, because Fandom.

On the other hand, blondie didn't get much chance to snicker at Bo from her front step before the heavens opened up on her too, which was gratifying. (What Bo could see of it through her dripping hair, anyway.)

Squelching across town to get home would've been decidedly less so, but several eyerolls later (and one assurance that Tamsin didn't give a crap personally but she was an officer of the law and Bo on the street in a wet t-shirt was clearly a menace to public safety), Tamsin was tossing dry clothes at her while Bo tried not to drip too much on the carpet as she peeled herself out of the soaked ones.

Overall, she'd have been willing to call the whole thing a draw -- if her tabulations hadn't been interrupted by the both of them suddenly kerthumping to said carpet like two sacks of potatoes. Two very wet, half-naked, completely unconscious sacks of potatoes.

Because Fandom.

[Estaaaaaablishy. *valkyrie-mods, as you do, because Fandom*]

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nookiepowered: (Default)
Bo Jones. Or maybe Dennis.

December 2015

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