burnt_orangesky: (Art is more interesting)
[The feed cuts in on... water, then there's a dull, hollow sound.] Ow. [Apparently Fred just managed to run into something. There's relative silence for a short time, filled with the sound of the shower running... and then Fred starts humming a low, hauntingly melodic tune. Either it doesn't have words, or she chooses not to sing them. After a moment, she breaks off mid-hum to say something.]

Oh bloody hell... we're out of shampoo. [There's the strangled gasping sound of the last drops being squeezed out of a plastic container] Right... suppose it's my turn to go shopping again...

[She starts humming again, a different song this time. Then she starts singing the words, more enthusiastically then very well... but she does manage to hit all the right notes.]

...in the kitchen with Dinah,
Someone's in the kitchen I knowowowow~
Someone's in the kitchen with Di~nah!
Strummin' on the old banjo
And singing
Fe, fie, fiddleaiai,
Fe fie fiddleiooo...

[And the radio cuts out again.]

[[ooc: The first song is some Time Lord lullaby she half-remembers. I have no idea what it actually sounds like, lol.]]
burnt_orangesky: (Listen to the sounds of silence)
I suppose it is [pen taps] somewhat appropriate that my birthday be marked by a resurgence in these troublesome things; I did manage to evade being struck by rubber balls today, though it was a near thing once or twice.

Thank you for the cake, Composer, it was quite good.

burnt_orangesky: (We are not amused)
Whomever tied my shoelaces into a knot this morning, it was not appreciated. Kindly do not enter my room without permission again.

[Pen taps]

Rogue, are you about?

[Slight pause]

Is everyone else [very small pause] alright?



burnt_orangesky: (Default)

October 2011

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