![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[It's around 9 AM and Gambit's journal is hitting the floor, sprawled open, and recording. There's a yell, a string of Cajun French curses, and a chain of nearly a half dozen minor explosions. And then a scuffling noise.]
--ey! You bes' be droppin' th-- merde!
[Heavy thump of a body hitting the floor. Rustling noise. More extremely colorful cursing in Cajun French.]
Drop it! That's--
[More scuffling. And suddenly, the journal is flying through the air. The view window might catch just the slightest glimpse of hideous, orange shag carpeting (in a violet-tinted world thanks to a kinetic charge) just before the feed cuts out with a boom.]
( [Action] )
--ey! You bes' be droppin' th-- merde!
[Heavy thump of a body hitting the floor. Rustling noise. More extremely colorful cursing in Cajun French.]
Drop it! That's--
[More scuffling. And suddenly, the journal is flying through the air. The view window might catch just the slightest glimpse of hideous, orange shag carpeting (in a violet-tinted world thanks to a kinetic charge) just before the feed cuts out with a boom.]
( [Action] )
