Fifth Floor Common Room, Tuesday evening

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

Bruce could be out of his room without feeling the need to find a more private place with the first person he saw. It was a good feeling. A good enough feeling that Bruce was willing to actually risk messing with the television in the common room again. But first? Threats.

"If you act up on me, I will end you," Bruce whispered while kneeling in front of the set. "There's a window right there. I will throw you out of it. You will be destroyed. And then I'll buy a new TV for the floor. I can afford something that will make you look like you're a black and white set. Nobody will miss you. So behave, or you'll force me to prove that I'm serious."

Bruce settled into a seat on the sofa and turned on PBS. It worked just fine. "I'm glad we could come to this arrangement," Bruce said with a bit of a smirk.

Good job badgering the inanimate object into working, Bruce.

[OOC: Much like the writing utensil I use exclusively for writing the third vowel, this post is open.]

Comments

[talks-backwards.livejournal.com]

"You know what? You might be right. This might even deserve a more in-depth analysis. Does technology hate Bruce? Maybe he needs to whisper veiled threats to the coffee machine every morning." A beat, followed by a small grin. "Maybe he just likes sounding menacing."

[inneedofcoffee.livejournal.com]

The coffee maker? What kind of monster was he?!

"He did have a very imposing voice when he was sick..." Christian Bale voice, for the win!

[talks-backwards.livejournal.com]

A bat-shaped one!

"That...doesn't really make sense. Imposing sick voice?" Now she wanted to hear it herself.