Luxury Suite at the Roosevelt Hotel -- Emma's Manhattan -- Late Late Thursday Night

[icecoldfrost]

When they got back to the hotel, Emma was positively giddy. She'd gotten them two-bedroom luxury suites at the Roosevelt Hotel, and ordered up oodles of desserts and drinks from room service.

"Now that is what I call a party," she laughed, popping open a bottle of champagne. "Here's to us, gentlemen."

[OOC: LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE BOYS! Post One | Post Two | Post Three | Post Four.]

Comments

[noearsyet.livejournal.com]

"'M guessin' that Gift o' yers is a bit more annoyin' than useful," George said, wandering over to Jono.

[furnaceface]

Jono glanced up at George as he wandered over, and then he lifted his shoulders slightly. They seemed so much more eloquent than he could ever be, on matters like that one.

//'Gift' is a very loose term for it,// he acknowledged.

[noearsyet.livejournal.com]

"Tis what they'd call it at home," he pointed out. "Doesn' necessarily mean tisn' - I don' even know what 'tis."

[furnaceface]

//Where I'm from, it's a mutation,// Jono offered. //Not that th'terminology really makes much difference in th'end. All anybody really needs to know 'bout it is I'm th'bloke who blew his own face off with it.//

Not that he'd been using that face or anything. Really.

[noearsyet.livejournal.com]

He wasn't going to ask if it was on accident. Cause that was just stupid. Shh.

"Not th'best thing ever t'happen, 'm sure."

[furnaceface]

//I could've certainly done without,// Jono agreed, shrugging. //Not much t'be done about it now, I suppose. At least I can speak, more or less.//