Video | Open :: Action | Somewhat open

[fictor]

[ There's a scowling, angry boy with pale skin and a shaved head. He's got a five o' clock shadow and is wearing a black tank top. The sharp edges of tattoo can be seen curling up out of his collar and covering one shoulder. There is, almost impossibly looking, a raven sitting on that tattoo shoulder pressed against the boy's shaved head. ]

I hate these fucking things. [ Phones. He hates cellphones and the PDA is basically a smart phone that only works within Itinere.]

So the doors back home aren't working. From what I hear, that's not unusual. Anything else weird happen here, or did we all pervenire in solidum?

[ The boy starts to shove the phone into his pocket, speaking to someone off screen as he does--Come on, Parrish abeamus. Find these goddamn apartment buildings]


[ooc: If someone would like to intercept Adam and Ronan on the way to the apartment building or happen upon them in the lobby, feel free. You're liable to get one or both of them. ]

Comments

[fictor]

And Ronan won't push, not right now anyway. He takes his cue from Adam, not curling up quite the way Adam does, but folds one arm under his pillow and rests his head on it.

Ronan returns the hint of a smile with a satisfied smirk of his own.

"Night, Parrish," Ronan responds, closing his eyes. When he does realize that Adam is wrapped up around him later, he won't move or push Adam off of him. He'll just go back to sleep until insomnia, restlessness and a too active mind drive him from bed, any hope of sleep gone forever.