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Another day, another dollar.
Actually, how is my money holding up? Yig, not so well. I might have to find some employment. I knew there'd be a disadvantage to being able to walk around like a person.
Maybe I should have gotten some sleep last night, but I just couldn't. I couldn't help thinking that Liz was going to come through the door looking for a place to hide. That and I was just far too agitated to sleep. I saw the whole thing happening, and I didn't think to stop it. Course, I didn't see her crying, but I did see Bartleby laying it on mighty thick, and trying to soften her up with booze. That's the way Humans do this, isn't it? I mean, the way Casey talks about it, it's almost a god damned ritual. But then, Casey is a knucklehead from 1995, and Liz is a lady from 1811.
I should have stopped it before it started, but Bartleby isn't a bad guy. Little unstable and angry, but who am I to hold that against someone? Isn't that what human types do? Don't they find happiness in each others arms ... and what not?
Fucking hell, I feel like such a heel. Earlier I told her I'd protect her, and here I go and let this happen. So mighty protector I turned out to be.
*punches wall, putting hole in the dry wall*
*Raph dresses, arms himself, and walks out of his room. The back of his door is studded with throwing knives.*
Actually, how is my money holding up? Yig, not so well. I might have to find some employment. I knew there'd be a disadvantage to being able to walk around like a person.
Maybe I should have gotten some sleep last night, but I just couldn't. I couldn't help thinking that Liz was going to come through the door looking for a place to hide. That and I was just far too agitated to sleep. I saw the whole thing happening, and I didn't think to stop it. Course, I didn't see her crying, but I did see Bartleby laying it on mighty thick, and trying to soften her up with booze. That's the way Humans do this, isn't it? I mean, the way Casey talks about it, it's almost a god damned ritual. But then, Casey is a knucklehead from 1995, and Liz is a lady from 1811.
I should have stopped it before it started, but Bartleby isn't a bad guy. Little unstable and angry, but who am I to hold that against someone? Isn't that what human types do? Don't they find happiness in each others arms ... and what not?
Fucking hell, I feel like such a heel. Earlier I told her I'd protect her, and here I go and let this happen. So mighty protector I turned out to be.
*punches wall, putting hole in the dry wall*
*Raph dresses, arms himself, and walks out of his room. The back of his door is studded with throwing knives.*