Chapter Text
tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]
TG: heyy rose
TG: rosee
TG: rppppppppppse
TG: *o x?? teims
TG: *imes
TG: rose i reeeeeally need to talk to u
TG: this is UBER IMPORTNT
TG: leik fuckng shit cuz ya cant bail on me i thought that we were bffs again
TG: iz this cause of the thang with john the other nite??? i was totes jking yknow id NEVRR actualy do that to you
TG: plz plz PLZZZZZZ ROSE :(
TG: :(((((((((((
TT: wwoww holy fuck youre such a fuckin drama queen
What?
Roxy Lalonde considered herself a woman of rational thinking and common sense, heavily garnished with an easygoing attitude and an appreciation for the awesome things in life, no matter her state of inebriation (and contrary to the lists that her friends and family had compiled throughout the years that stated otherwise).
As such, the ability to deduce that something was not right with the grammatical and structural integrity of this response was not lost to her – now she just had to figure out the why.
TG: wooooooow rose when did you start dirnking
TG: i thought u wre ABSTAINIING from that shit
TG: yo keep saying it rotted braincels
TG: kills your digity
TG: *diggity
TG: *hawt diggity daawwwg lol
TT: wwhat
TT: since wwhen the fuck did ros start talkin to blatherin idiots
Ah.
So her immediate assumption was wrong; it happened to the best of people. It probably even happened to Sherlock or some shit.
Humming, Roxy stretched across her desk for her glass of vodka, the other hand flying across the keyboard with all the dexterity of…of a fucking monkey.
TG: lil hoe embarrassinh
TG: *lol
TG: AAAANYWAYZ
TG: wheres rose???
TT: wwho the fuck are you to knoww
TT: i cant just be blabbin about her locations and secret doins to any common imbecile who cant type wworth shit
TG: wow RUDE MAN
TG: wat makes you think im an imbecil im prolly smrter than YOU
TG: fuk im like a monky and im still smarter than u
TT: wwait wwhat
TT: are you her fuckin alcoholic cousin or wwhatevver
TT: the one thats supposed to be bringin ovver that cat tonight
TG: whoawhoahooOOOOOAAA i aint no alcoholic k
TG: i think wat she meant to say was that im her totes sweeet haxxorr cousin
TG: the smexy bitch on the other side of the computer screen messing with ur data and files and shot
TG: *shitt
TT: aww fuck no
TT: ivve had quite ENOUGH of some bigheaded hackers bs right noww thank you vvery much
TG: lol dood i havent even done anything to messs with u way to spazz out mch
TT: wwhat the fuck evver
TT: ros wwants to knoww wwhat you wwant shes busy makin dinner right noww
TT: wwe just got back into towwn so make this quick
TG: hah wat ??
TG: aww fuuuuUUUUUCK
TG: hey listn
TG: do u know if she actually really really REALY cared bot that car
TG: *cat
TT: you mean jaspers
TT: wwell of course she loved the fuckin beast
TT: she has a little house and fuckin outfits and a CHAIR for it for christs sake but she cant evven buy me a fuckin latte
TG: yeaaaaaahh i kinda figured from when she lwft him wit me :(
TT: wwait wwhat the fuck are you evven talkin about
TT: is jaspers okay
TG: ummmmmmmMMMMMM
TG: if by ok u mean nott desd
TG: *dad
TG: *DEAD haha i bet jaspie has a whole buncha dads
TT: Roxanne.
TT: What have you done to Jaspers?
“Shhhhiiiiiiiite.”
Roxy buried her head in her hands and hunched over her keyboard, as though she could hold down the pulse of stress and intoxication currently laying waste to the once mighty fortress of her skull. Maybe she should have gone about this a different way. She could have pretended that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the damn cat, that he had always been like that. There was no way she could be held liable in that case, right?
Biting her lip, as though that could stifle her squeal of frustration, Roxy hurried to answer the rapid flashes of purple text before they got out of contr—shit, was that vodka on her keyboard?
…heh. She was wondering what had happened to that glass.
TT: Heed my words, dearest cousin.
TT: If you do not tell me what has happened to sweet Jaspers at this very moment, I will be forced to take drastic measures.
TT: You may as well consider all of your efforts to be integrated back into the family obsolete.
TT: May every sip of alcohol you ingest from this day forward turn to ashes as you swallow it, and may your tongue wither away, and may the dark and unforgiving cosmos forever remember you as Roxy Lalonde, Feline Murderess.
TG: hhhholy shhi ro
TG: i alredddy saiddddd hhhhhhes ot dddeaddddd
TT: Roxanne, I am on the phone with a cab service. I am directing them towards your house, and if you are not prepared to leave your shitty apartment within the next twenty minutes, with Jaspers safely in tow, you will be visited by horrors not unlike the kind we imagined in our childhood games.
TG: :’(
tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]
Well. Considering that the sort of games that they (as in, Rose insisted upon when going off to Hogwarts had grown “tiresome”) involved being ensnared by the tentacles of broodfester throes and subsequently driven insane, Roxy Lalonde was, to put it succinctly, screwed.
tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]
TT: haha wwoww youre fuckin screwwed
tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]