epiphany
"Bless you, darling," says Pru. "Stephanie, be so good as to take your hands out of Dominic's hair and explain this catastrophe of a subprogram to me."
Steph uproots herself from gazing at Dom's lines of vision code and idly adorning the short black waves of his hair with a tiny braid, and crosses the room, kicking Tee's chair as she passes. "Honestly," she mutters, "a horse," and Tee smiles.
It's the future and Blacksheep Industries are writing an assassin.
oh my god guys
best combination in the world:
[gin & tonic
AND
alanis morissette]
I think the inherent stereotypical weepiness of both items somehow creates an excellent mood? like the product of two negative numbers!
basically: this is the first writing I've been able to get done in weeks, and I am extremely in favour of anything that can facilitate writing.
I am also in favour of the fact that tipsiness is its own excuse for eschewing capitalisation in an LJ context.
*writes mooooooore*

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Love the icon.
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