GEN TEXT

[lowlaw]

texting meme

You’ve got your TFLN, you’ve got your sexting, now here’s the meme for all those gen texts, phone calls, voicemails, pictures of your cats, and whatever else your little heart can come up with, because who doesn't like a little old fashioned friendly texting. (Or enemy texting, if that's more your bag.)

instructions: What it says on the tin! Leave a comment with your character, include preferences, a start, absolutely nothing or whatever you want. Run around and reply to others. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Comments

[epodic]

[She always did have a smile that could light up a room, and all those beyond it. He half-expects her jump out of her seat to seize him once more, but the gentle bump against his ankle as he settles in serves quite well instead. She's never been shy about letting him know that she's glad to see him, and even if he's never been one to express his own feelings as openly, he feels quite the same.

He smiles as she slides the menu towards him, turning it right-side-up.]

Let us see— shall we try ourselves something new and daring, for fear of relying too much upon 'the usual?'

[quillandaxe]

[ That gets him an arched brow and another wide grin. Urianger being the one to suggest something new before she does? Now that's a surprise, but far from an unpleasant one. ]

Something new seems like it would fit the bill. As for daring ... I'm feeling a bit bold myself.

[ So lay on all the weird toppings and spices Urianger thinks he can handle. ]

[epodic]

[Perhaps he's done a little growing while she's been away. He is a great many things, but he'd decided some time ago that 'predictable' need not necessarily be one of them.]

Thy definition of 'bold' may well differ from mine, but I admit, thou has sparked mine curiousity.

[He could very well come to regret this, but it will be memorable if nothing else.]

[quillandaxe]

[ Moenbryda leans over so she can tap at the menu, unmindful or uncaring of the eyeful it gives Urianger as she does so. They've always been a study in contrasts, not just in disposition, but in fashion choices, and Moenbryda has ever been inclined to outfits that bare skin (and her tattoos) more than not... ]

Not the ones with strawberries, perhaps. That's a bit more like dessert than I'm feeling at the moment. Definitely not the one with mac and cheese, either. What about the gochujang and pulled pork pizza? Or something with kimchi on it ... you haven't taken up any fad diets or anything, have you?

[epodic]

[Never let it be said that he isn't a gentleman. He certainly does get an eyeful, but he's very quick to lift his chin and avert his gaze, gently clearly his throat despite the fact that he knows full well she cares little just how much he— or anyone else— sees.]

Not in recent days, no— I've found I have little patience for such things.

[Translation: even if he did try some new fad diet, chances are he's going to forget to eat and mostly sustain himself on tea for long stretches at a time, anyway. They would be a waste on him.]

That sounds full adventurous enough. I shall trust thy judgment. [He finally lowers his gaze, a smile pulling at one side of his mouth once more.] For better or for ill, we shall embark upon this venture together.

[It's just pizza, Urianger.]

[quillandaxe]

[ Look, sometimes food can be the adventure. Given how often she's likely bullied him into going out to eat during the more intense days of their dissertations, this probably counts as bungee jumping or something equally daring. ]

That's settled, then. [ Mercifully for his ability to main eye contact, she leans back in her seat so she can flag down a server to take their order. It doesn't take long, but then the next question is what they'll be having to drink. Moenbryda's got a ready answer -- rather than ordering one thing, she orders a pair of beer flights, rattling off her selection of ten or so beers to sample from the extensive draft menu. The server dutifully jots it down, then turns to Urianger expectantly. ]

[epodic]

[He'd learned to give up on resisting her badgering a long, long time ago— besides, does it truly count as bullying when he's become so very fond of it over the years.

Urianger's order for himself is far simpler— an old-fashioned— and illustrates the differences between their tastes just as everything else about them does. Once they're through, the server politely excuses herself to put their order in, leaving them to talk as they will while they wait.

Urianger smiles as he leans forward against the table, hands clasped together to rest in front of him.]

While we have time, thou must tell me all about thy most recent venture— where didst they travels take thee this time?