IC Contact

[tacticalturtleneck]

[Pick your poison.]


1. Hey, this is Archer. How are you doing? [A pause.] Great, glad to hear it! Also glad to hear you're talking to an automated message. HAHA, SUCKER! Leave one!

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2. Holy shit, did you just see that?! [Paaaaaaaause.] That was you falling for the answering machine trick again! God, when you are going to learn?

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3. Welcome to Ask Archer, where you can ask me what you want and I'll answer your question in public and embarrass you in front of everyone. Maybe you'll learn something. Leave it.

Comments

[herotypical]

God help us, there's a Missus Archer?

[ danger danger. she assumes he's referring to a wife. that poor woman. ]

[tacticalturtleneck]

That would be....my mother. The devil spawn of Satan himself.

[Oh god, why did that have to be brought up.]

Look, just give me some of that coffee.

[Or punch him in the face. That also works for sobering up.]

[herotypical]

[ she peers into her mug -- eyes the murky and ultimately unappetizing tea that has been in no way shape or form an adequate coffee replacement -- and shrugs. handing it over to him is just about the easiest thing she's ever done. ]

So does that make you Satan's grandson? 'Cause there are some people who would consider that at least mildly bitchin'.

[tacticalturtleneck]

[He downs the drink in one go. It's hot and tastes nothing like he expected in taste so Archer kind of chokes on it. It's enough to sober him up, at least.]

If it would get you to sleep with me, sure.

[Absolutely shameless but he's not hiding it.]

Jesus, that was really foul, though. What the heck was that? Anti-ethanol?

1/2

[herotypical]

[ this face. forever and ever and ever. ]

2/2

[herotypical]

God if I know. Makeshift medieval tea? They probably brewed it with sticks and stones that once sat somewhere kinda-near a decent tea...plant. Tea comes from plants, right? I feel like I saw that once on a Nat-Geo documentary.

[ .. ] Okay, more like the commercial for Nat-Geo documentary. But you get what I'm saying.

[tacticalturtleneck]

Like stone soup but even shittier?

[Emphasis on the shittier part if he's already back to normal.]

What if it's marijuana tea?

[herotypical]

Marijuana tea.

[ a pause. ] Do I look like I peddle drugs?

[tacticalturtleneck]

You could be from Colorado or Washington or Oregon or whatever. It's hard to tell those north-western states apart.

Seriously, that stuff is kind of legal in some states.

sorry about the delay; i was moving to a new apartment!

[herotypical]

California.

[ she crosses her arms -- almost as though to say isn't it obvious? ]

it's cool!

[tacticalturtleneck]

HAHAHAHA OH MY GOD! You're a Valley Girl!!!

[herotypical]

Once upon a time.

[ she did indeed literally live in the valley. once. but then dad cheated on mom and -- well. the rest of that story requires a stiff drink and all the good stuff is still currently pooling at her feet. ]

[tacticalturtleneck]

This.

Changes.

Everything.

[herotypical]

But does it? Does it really?

[ she knows it does. she might just revel in it for a moment longer. she likes it when they underestimate her. ]

[tacticalturtleneck]

Well, duh. It gives me a whole new pool of sick burns to nail you with.

Figuratively, not literally.

[herotypical]

You'll find I don't burn so easily.

[ except she's huffing. again. and turning away so she might venture feet deeper into this creepy old armoury. god, she needs a sword in her hand. stat. ]

[tacticalturtleneck]

Whatever you say, 90210.

[Yeah, he's looking for a badass Claymore. Archer wants one so badly.]

[herotypical]

Am I supposed to be insulted? That show kicked butt. Excellent veg material.

[ go! go fondle your claymores! buffy is bee-lining for something a little more in the wicked-looking-axe department. ]

[tacticalturtleneck]

Yeah, maybe if you're one of those asshole kids from the 90s who always posts on Facebook with the "SHARE IF YOU DRANK WATER FROM THE HOSE, RODE A BIKE WITHOUT A HELMET, AND GOT BEAT BY MY PARENTS. I'M A STRONG HUMAN WHO DON'T NEED NO REGULATIONS" type of bullshit.

[herotypical]

-- Facebook?

[ dude she's no '90s raised it hurts. ] Ew. Who wants a book just for faces? That sounds...gross. [ huff. ] And-slash-or indecent.

[tacticalturtleneck]

Get with the times. Facebook is where all the cool people are these days. Get your fair share of duck-lips and photo-shopped muscles all in one place!

Seriously, it sucks. Be glad you never even heard of it.

[herotypical]

And what times are the ones I'm supposed to be getting with, huh?

[ toss aside a dagger. toss aside a crossbow. ah. axe-y goodness. buffy hefts a short-handled blade with a fine ornamented blade. pretty. and sharp. ]

[tacticalturtleneck]

Not the London Times. Or the New York Time either!

[Nice question dodge?? Totally throwing a claymore on his back and now fingering bows.]

[herotypical]

[ she looks up from her choice -- fingers still curled possessively around the leather-worked grip of a good axe. the claymore (she begrudgingly admits) is an impressive piece. more than half the size of her, but an impressive piece. good enough for him, if he even knows how to use it.

that question can come later. ]

Yawn. London's all tea'n'crumpets and I have it on good authority that New York is really just the world's dumpster for crumpled fliers. [ she notes the dodge but doesn't care. ] Or...whatever. Maybe they're worth looking into. It's not like I have a place to be any more. Back home, I mean. Not -- not like this Drabwurld counts.

[tacticalturtleneck]

You're....going to have to be a little more specific.

Unless this is one of those "I died and God hates me and Satan is afraid of me so I'm fucked in a badass way" kind of things.

[Yesss, longbows. He prefers the rapid rate of fire of a bow over the easier accuracy of a crossbow. In weapons, at least, Archer has good taste.]