This post is William's IC inbox at ataraxion. You can drop network or action stuff that doesn't quite feel like it fits or warrants a post on the main communities in here.
[Wiliam's voice peals out like thunder, a veritable shriek of shock and/or disbelief and possibly rage, the lattermost which comes out more when he says:]
When did this fucking happen?!
[wHY AREN'T YOU HERE SO WE CAN BE SCREAMING ABOUT IT TOGETHER IN PERSON is between the lines]
I'M IN MEDBAY, [William says, as loudly as you can imagine with the size of these letters.] I'M HEARING ABOUT MY BEST FRIEND NOT MERELY GETTING ENGAGED BUT EFFECTIVELY MARRIED OVER THE BLOODY DOG AND BONE TWENTY FOUR FUCKING HOURS AFTER THE ACTUAL TIME OF FUCKING OCCURRENCE.
I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO DRINK AS OF THE LAST TIME I GAVE IT A GO BUT THIS SEEMS LIKE A GOOD TIME TO TRY, [he adds, a bit vehemently, probably making a scene in the middle of the place where people are scared or injured or trying to learn about significant life-saving procedures.] WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE TYPE OF CAKE. AND NED'S.
WHAT KIND DO YOU BOTH LIKE. [It's hard to do question inflections when you're yelling, but those are in fact questions.]
I'm sorry! It just kinda happened! If we'd been in Vegas there would have been an Elvis, it was so spur of the moment! I'm on my way and I'm bringing booze, so get a puke basin ready or whatever.
[William retorts,] You are not fucking coming over here.
I'm not done with you, [he adds, sounding surprisingly threatening all things considered.] Don't fucking think it. We'll be speaking soon, HeATHER, but for now I got some shit to see to. Yeh?
[He sounds like he's already on the move. Footfalls, knocking something over that doesn't break.]
Wow. Wow. I'll just stay here with my thumb up my ass then, shall I?
[Which would probably be more effective if she wasn't slightly charmed by the force with which her friend swings into action. Her grin is in no way diminished when she adds:]
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bless
I don't even know, we just got - not married, but, like - not-married. I think. Sort of?
[Which is really a lot ramblier and unsure than her giddy tone is suited to because BELIEVE ME SHE IS GIDDY]
C-8!!!!1eleven1
[Wiliam's voice peals out like thunder, a veritable shriek of shock and/or disbelief and possibly rage, the lattermost which comes out more when he says:]
When did this fucking happen?!
[wHY AREN'T YOU HERE SO WE CAN BE SCREAMING ABOUT IT TOGETHER IN PERSON is between the lines]
no subject
[This is sheepish, because leaving it until the day after is unacceptable she knows this but
they were
busy]
Where are you? Are you busy? Can you drink yet?
no subject
I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO DRINK AS OF THE LAST TIME I GAVE IT A GO BUT THIS SEEMS LIKE A GOOD TIME TO TRY, [he adds, a bit vehemently, probably making a scene in the middle of the place where people are scared or injured or trying to learn about significant life-saving procedures.] WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE TYPE OF CAKE. AND NED'S.
WHAT KIND DO YOU BOTH LIKE. [It's hard to do question inflections when you're yelling, but those are in fact questions.]
no subject
And I like chocolate. He likes free.
no subject
I'm not done with you, [he adds, sounding surprisingly threatening all things considered.] Don't fucking think it. We'll be speaking soon, HeATHER, but for now I got some shit to see to. Yeh?
[He sounds like he's already on the move. Footfalls, knocking something over that doesn't break.]
no subject
[Which would probably be more effective if she wasn't slightly charmed by the force with which her friend swings into action. Her grin is in no way diminished when she adds:]
Love you too.
no subject
He sounds like he's smiling too.]
We've already had pretty fucking extensive conversations about Ned's familiarity with using the proverbial back door.