After the game

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

Who: Malakim, visitors
When: Day 1, Post-game
Where: Dorms
What: What do you even do for a broken arm?

[Figures out how to open the door again and then slams it closed behind his teammates when everyone's in. He stalks off to go look for — you know what? I don't even know what you need for a broken arm.]

[Just going to RUMMAGE LOUDLY through whatever is in the bathroom.]

Comments

[icantblieveitsnotdeadpool]

Maybe? What was your memory?

[dishonestliving]

It was some years ago... My brothers and I went to the city to watch a jazz show. It was nice. ...Didn't seem like this place at all, though.

[icantblieveitsnotdeadpool]

Yeah, my memory had nothing to do with this place either.

Though...what's a jazz show?

[dishonestliving]

It's music, with a syncopated beat, [she counts one off, one-AND-two-AND] orchestrated with trumpet and piano and drums and string bass and sometimes more, and some songs are fast and frantic and you can dance to them, though other songs are slow and romantic. My brothers didn't let me dance to those ones, though.

[icantblieveitsnotdeadpool]

Sounds like that is a very nice memory. Mine mostly involves fat, sweaty men.

[shudders.]

[dishonestliving]

If they weren't dancing, I definitely win.

[icantblieveitsnotdeadpool]

Nope. It involved wrestling, no dancing.