(no subject)

[ironlady]

Who: Caterina Sforza and anyone interested in joining her
What: Easter Sunday!
When: Easter Sunday?
Where: the Church
Rating: G? Unless someone creepy shows up or the twins swear in Church

[There was some scrambling around to be certain. Caterina was not even sure the church would be in any shape for anyone to be in much less celebrate. Somehow things worked out. A service and prayer was held. Fellowship and food went directly after.

All's well that ends well, hm?]


[ooc; Feel free to assume Caterina and/or Father Tres said a few words and somehow got a meal together at the church. This is a free for all so please have fun with it!]

Comments

[noblefive]

"I'm fine. Don't worry."

A pause, before he continues. "Yeah, it's kinda hard to get past the multiplying and exploding marshmallow things just because you accidentally stepped on one."

[shepherdsveritas]

Connor raised an eyebrow, "explodin'? I heard 'bout the multiplyin, but I hadn't heard 'bout that part."

He whistle, shaking his head, "Makes me fuckin' glad I left th'castle."

[noblefive]

"It's nothing dangerous. Just damned annoying. I'm going to be cleaning marshmallow out of my joints for days."

He reaches up to start to take his helmet off.

"You doing okay? Where's your brother?"

[shepherdsveritas]

"Hot water might melt 'em enough y'wash off easier."

Connor smiled, shrugging. It seemed so ridiculous to talk so casually about washing marshmallow off of armor. Though, weirder things have happened since they've been here.

"Murph's out back in th'kitchen. We're makin' dinner fer everyone."

[noblefive]

Jorge takes his helmet off, running his non-marshmallow-y hand across the back of his head.

"Pretty big undertaking. I'd offer to help, but I only know how to make MREs taste less like cardboard.

[shepherdsveritas]

Connor laughs and jerks his head towards the back, "c'mon. Y'can put yer helmet an' shite out back. An I guarantee this'll taste better'n any fuckin' MREs."

[noblefive]

"It'll be too difficult to take my armour off and I prefer to keep it on. As well as my gun in sight."

He jerks a thumb over to where the M247H is stashed in a corner. Old habits die hard.