☤ twenty-seven

[as_damaged]

[Accidental Audio]

[CRASH.

CRASH.

CRASH. CRASH.

splinter splinter crash. There is heavy breathing in the background.

...crash.]




[ooc; action for Chase and mebbe Angela, and um, anyone who happens to live in their apartments/surrounding apts who might notice the breaking and entering. sob. i don't even.]

Comments

[a new face brings new change and a new way]

[thenormalsquint]

No, I am.

[It's sad to say that while Angela considers Peter a close friend, she never consider romantic implications about him. It just never happened. It never will happen on a normal day. She's not a person to trail another one a dead end road and this here is what she's doing, even if Peter doesn't fall for it. When the clock hits twelve, things will hopefully be forgotten and forgiven.

Hopefully.

Tugging on his sleeve, Angela pulls the poor guy down to the elevator, the fastest way to the successful end of her plan.]

Now let's go get married.

[a new face brings new change and a new way]

[justdoingmyjob.livejournal.com]

[ Part of him is busy arguing that, well, worst case scenario, marriage can't possibly count here, right? That part gets promptly beaten up the side of the head with the word Stupid, and is followed by the thought that well of course it does but there must then also be divorce and well, there is an option, right there. But he doesn't particularly fancy it all the same, and he follows--he has to--into the elevator, trying to think of ways to stall.

Somehow he knows pushing all of the buttons on the panel will not be quite subtle enough, blind or not.]

So um...I don't know if there's a place to do that...here...

[Smooth...very...not.]