Second Floor Common Room - RT's Wake

[auroryborealis.livejournal.com]

Rory made her way up from the memorial and found a Jacques Cousteau documentary on the television.

She solemnly began to watch, attempting to feel actual sorrow over a fish.

It didn't quite take.

[Totally open to all, omg]

Comments

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

/Tag! Play!/ Pupped wagged extra hard at the smart person. /You play?/

[strongestgirl.livejournal.com]

/Yes yes!/ said Mr. Neilson in what sounded like a posh Brittish Accent to anybody who could understand him.

/Play with this fellow! He's certainly much more durable then I ol'chap./

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"He plays rough?" Bridge looks at Mr. Neilson.

[strongestgirl.livejournal.com]

/Oh my good man he most certainly does!/

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Bridge idly wondered what Pup would think of Lightball. "Tag's fun, yeah!"

[strongestgirl.livejournal.com]

Mr. Neilson clung to Bridge's shoulder and wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

/You play tag?/ Pup was still wagging enthusiastically, but was a little dubious. Most not-Walters were a little slow for a good game of tag. Not like the other furry people around here. They were good for tag.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Who *doesn't* play tag?"

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

Pup's wagging slowed for a moment as his little pup brain tried to process that question.

/Dead swimmies?/

[strongestgirl.livejournal.com]

/Crass. But he has a point./

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Okay, yeah, fish probably wouldn't play tag," Bridge admits.

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

Pup's wag picked up speed. If it got any faster maybe he would be able to fly like Vladdie.

/Tag! You, me, and him!/ Pup's bouncing indicated that "him" would be Mr. Neilson. /Or stick?/ He remember that this was the not-Walter who had the stick. /Impaling Stick is fun!/

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"We should probably save tag for sometime when there aren't too many other people in the common room. They get in the way," Bridge explains. "I can throw the pen again, though!" and he does so.

[strongestgirl.livejournal.com]

Monkey smacktalk mode engaged.

/You couldn't catch me if I had my tail tied behind my back six eyes!/

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

Pup runs after the white stick and growls menacingly at it for a minute before snatching it up and trotting back over to the smart not-Walter.

He may have been thinking impaling thoughts about the pen and the monkey, though.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Good job, dude," Bridge says, leaning over to scritch Pup between the ears.

[strongestgirl.livejournal.com]

Mr. Neilson golfclaps.

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

Oh scritches. Pup may have forgotten entirely the idea of impaling Mr. Neilson in favor of thinking absolutely nothing at all.

This not-Walter is a very good one.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Want me to throw it again?" Bridge asked. "I wonder where Vladdie went? Hmm."

[strongestgirl.livejournal.com]

Mr. Neilson taps Bridge on the side of the head and holds his paw out for the pen.

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

Pup opens his eyes and watches Mr. Neilson avidly. /Tag?/

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Bridge shrugs and hands Mr. Neilson the pen.

[strongestgirl.livejournal.com]

Mr. Neilson hops up ontop of Bridge's head, waves the pen and gives it a mighty monkey throw.

/Tally ho!/

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

/Stick!/ Pup was off, weaving through the crowd, bumping against carefully unspecified legs and yapping over the sounds of people talking.

He returned with the stick. This was turning out to be a very, very good night.