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<blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 6719444" data-attributes="member: 4936">(OOC - Yarp, apologies. Had some brainlock and some -fun- on Friday, but I am mostly guilty of terminally overthinking this, which is not at all in character. Deep apologies.)&quot;Yeah, sorry,&quot; Otter said with a quick shake of her head. &quot;Been an eff of a night. Beth. Beth Cotter. Come on, I'll show you the rig. It's downstairs.&quot;She motioned and started heading towards the stairway to the basement.&quot;We're trying to get the place set up for the big jam, and it's been an effing nightmare. Wiring is crap. Light is crap. There's like...this smell... And we can't figure out where it's coming from. Mace is all, 'it's good for the dank!' And I'm just...what is dank? Do people want dank? Does dank make them want to party? Give me a call when the two neurons in your skull manage to make a baby and you can speak coherently.&quot;She sighed. &quot;Sorry, TMI, I know.&quot;Down in the basement she guides the policemen down the hall with flickery, creepy lights. &quot;See? What I'm dealing with?&quot;And into the room she'd claimed as her own, with the tangle of wires and boxes and fans and, yes, speakers. And something else. Wrapped in paper that was quickly soaking through.Death Otter's next sentence was completely unfeigned. &quot;What the hell is that?&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Shayuri, post: 6719444, member: 4936"] (OOC - Yarp, apologies. Had some brainlock and some -fun- on Friday, but I am mostly guilty of terminally overthinking this, which is not at all in character. Deep apologies.) "Yeah, sorry," Otter said with a quick shake of her head. "Been an eff of a night. Beth. Beth Cotter. Come on, I'll show you the rig. It's downstairs." She motioned and started heading towards the stairway to the basement. "We're trying to get the place set up for the big jam, and it's been an effing [i]nightmare[/i]. Wiring is crap. Light is crap. There's like...this smell... And we can't figure out where it's coming from. Mace is all, 'it's good for the dank!' And I'm just...what is dank? Do people want dank? Does dank make them want to party? Give me a call when the two neurons in your skull manage to make a baby and you can speak coherently." She sighed. "Sorry, TMI, I know." Down in the basement she guides the policemen down the hall with flickery, creepy lights. "See? What I'm dealing with?" And into the room she'd claimed as her own, with the tangle of wires and boxes and fans and, yes, speakers. And something else. Wrapped in paper that was quickly soaking through. Death Otter's next sentence was completely unfeigned. "What the hell is that?" [/QUOTE]

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