Room 408, Sunday, Afternoon

[apocalipped]

When you had the room to yourself and the holiday season was mostly over, there were only so many ways for a bloke to pass the time.

Jono had been up all hours of last night playing on his guitar, for example.

Which meant that today? He was hell-bent on sleeping in. Or, at the very least, hell-bent on laying on his back and staring at the ceiling for as much of the day as humanly possible. It was boring as hell, yes, but no less exciting than staring at the wall had been, yesterday. Perhaps tomorrow, to mix things up a bit, he'd look at the floor some instead.

[How enthralling! Tacked up with one in mind, but open if anyone wants to visit otherwise.]

Comments

[furnaceface]

//Blow things up, mostly,// Jono replied, giving his shoulders a shrug. //Speak telepathically. I'm not very good at much beyond that, honestly.//

Because he stomped on the rest of it. Fervently. //It's a bit of a constant battle to keep it under control.//

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

... Yeah. That was another bit Jak kind of got.

"We could go blow up tin cans."

[furnaceface]

//Yer serious?//

Jono eyed Jak for a moment at that. And then he laughed. Or, well, projected the echo of something that was meant to be a laugh. It was all the same, in the end. //Target practice it is, then. Why not?//

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Jak said, at a slow, slow drawl, his mouth tugging left to match, "That's what I like to say."

[furnaceface]

My, that look was somewhat predatory, wasn't it?

//Looking forward to it, then,// Jono decided. He wasn't entirely certain now how much he was looking forward to it, but... Well. This was Jak. And it was... male bonding, or something of the sort. That was good enough.