OOM: To more than one dimension...
It was late by the time Mark got back to the Loft. He'd had perhaps a few too many drinks with Sara, and then finished the bottle off by himself. Shuffling into the room, he found Roger on the couch.
"Damn, Mark, I'd think you had another girlfriend if I didn't know better. Why're you out so later?"
"I got pulled into a magical RPG of sorts, where my group killed, in order, a mutant smurf, a pack of herpes-harpies, some green gooey ugly thing, a really freaky doll, a pack of film-skeletons, and a dragon, and then I got stuck in a cage and made to fight a gazebo. Oh, and did I mention that I had boobs for most of this?"
Roger just stared at Mark. "...You are laying off the LSD. There is a reason that you shouldn't do that shit, man."
"It wasn't a bad trip, Roger. Well, it felt like it, but it wasn't. It's just fucking Milliways."
"Right. That place is really really fucking strange. Just don't go bringing home Buffy as your girlfriend or something."
"I don't know Buffy. Faith's my friend, though. Angel adopted her sorta." Mark deadpans, shrugging.
".... Go to bed, Mark." As Mark shuffled off to his room, Roger watched him idly. There was an odd confident set to Mark's shoulders, despite what was obviously a large need for sleep. Roger shrugged it off, standing up and going to his own bedroom. It was probabably just post-trip confidence or something. God knows he's known that feeling. Besides. Who the hell can understand Mark anyway.
"Damn, Mark, I'd think you had another girlfriend if I didn't know better. Why're you out so later?"
"I got pulled into a magical RPG of sorts, where my group killed, in order, a mutant smurf, a pack of herpes-harpies, some green gooey ugly thing, a really freaky doll, a pack of film-skeletons, and a dragon, and then I got stuck in a cage and made to fight a gazebo. Oh, and did I mention that I had boobs for most of this?"
Roger just stared at Mark. "...You are laying off the LSD. There is a reason that you shouldn't do that shit, man."
"It wasn't a bad trip, Roger. Well, it felt like it, but it wasn't. It's just fucking Milliways."
"Right. That place is really really fucking strange. Just don't go bringing home Buffy as your girlfriend or something."
"I don't know Buffy. Faith's my friend, though. Angel adopted her sorta." Mark deadpans, shrugging.
".... Go to bed, Mark." As Mark shuffled off to his room, Roger watched him idly. There was an odd confident set to Mark's shoulders, despite what was obviously a large need for sleep. Roger shrugged it off, standing up and going to his own bedroom. It was probabably just post-trip confidence or something. God knows he's known that feeling. Besides. Who the hell can understand Mark anyway.