creator_raven (
creator_raven) wrote2005-07-15 10:30 pm
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[Millitimed to the morning of July 19]
Inside Raven's room, all is quiet.
There is a dark coat slung over a chair, which itself is sitting in a haphazard fashion in the middle of the floor. A pair of boots rests by the door, and a scattering of shiny bits and pieces is strewn on the dresser.
On the bed, Raven is sleeping, one hand flung above his head. One of his feet hangs off the side of the bed, bare toes peeking out from under the covers.
Inside Raven's room, all is quiet.
There is a dark coat slung over a chair, which itself is sitting in a haphazard fashion in the middle of the floor. A pair of boots rests by the door, and a scattering of shiny bits and pieces is strewn on the dresser.
On the bed, Raven is sleeping, one hand flung above his head. One of his feet hangs off the side of the bed, bare toes peeking out from under the covers.

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Silently she creeps back, carrying something large and rather unwieldly. She's taking extra care not to bang it against anything. Very cautiously she slips into the room, heading towards an empty corner.
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But no.
He is defenseless.
Look at him sleeping. Is he not cute?
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He'll be even moreso on what she's carrying. With infinite care she picks her way across the room, and settles the sheet-covered object on the floor.
Then, very stealthily, she pulls off the sheet.
It's dark, so only the vauge outline of something spindly and... padded? Can be seen. Bundling the sheet up in her arms, she begins the return trip towards the propped-open door.
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Oh, the sneaky bastard!
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Well, drat.
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Raven gets out of the bed and hops on one foot for a moment, tangled in the bedding.
He manages to catch himself on the mattress, and carefully unwinds the blankets.
"It is neither Christmas nor my birthday, so why have you given me a present?"
He turns toward the door, and prompty trips over the chair.
Raven is not a morning person.
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"I was trying to be sneaky." She informs him, a rueful tone in her voice. "And do y'need some help there?"
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Raven's voice is quiet, and he looks very childlike, blinking and rubbing his eyes.
"I could swear I knew where the chair was, but apparently I was mistaken."
He yawns.
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"Guard your eyes." She warns, before flipping it on.
She determinedly does not look in the corner. Instead, she heads over to help untangle Raven from the sheets.
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"Ow."
He shields his eyes with one hand, then presses his fists into them.
Fireworks spark behind his eyes, but when he opens them again, the light is less painful.
He looks mournful as he stares at the tangled sheets.
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"I have dreams sometimes."
More like memories, perhaps. But he doesn't know that.
"I flail, I think."
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Then he's tackled in a full-force pyro hug, because he's her brother, and shouldn't have to have those kinds of dreams.
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He teeters, and, since both arms are full of Ace, he falls.
If a Raven falls in his bedroom, and there's only an Ace around, does he make a noise?
Yes.
"Oof."
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"You're very easy to trip." She announces, cheerily. Then she proceeds to press her advantage, since that is precisely what little sisters do.
She tickles him.
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Shrieks, and curls into a ball.
"This is manifestly--unfair--I protest--my dignity--"
And then he gives up on coherence and laughs, grabbing her wrist and turning the tables.
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"Never give up, never surrander! Ahhhhhh!" She shouts, in between giggles.
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Oh, hell. He's losing.
This is what happens when you play with your little sister. The bird needs to learn some time.
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"Surrender." She demands, leaning forward.
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"If I do, you take your gift back."
Stubborn bugger, isn't he?
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"All right, then. I cry thee 'Uncle'."
He looks at her balefully.
"You are crushing my ribs."
Is he pouting?
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"And I have no circulation in my feet, either."
He eyes the constricting blankets, and kicks his feet halfheatedly.
The blankets remain tightly wrapped.
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