Kenzi Malikov (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
onteamdyson) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kore_logs2012-11-04 12:08 am
onteamdyson) wrote in kore_logs2012-11-04 12:08 am
Entry tags:
You're totally jealous of Ricardio.
Who: Kenzi and Clint
What: If you can't get drunk with the people you live with, who CAN you get drunk with?
Where: That one house with all those secret agents
When: End of day six?
Warnings: Intense idiocy, alcohol consumption, ridiculouslness
If there was one thing Kenzi had gotten really good at during her time here, it was sitting upside down on the couch in the living room and staring up at the ceiling. Blankly. For hours. It usually happened around the time she'd burnt herself out running around on a sugar high, trying to find something to do that didn't involve technology. Just after dark. Too early to sleep, too late to be productive. Making faces into the cameras had just lost its appeal. She wasn't an expert on giant boxes that fell from the sky and would probably only get in the way if she tried to be productive and help, so couch it was.
With her legs over the back, bent at the knees, and her head hanging off the seat, Kenzi just kind of stayed there. Flopped over like a rag doll. Maybe if she was lucky, one of her roomies would be walking around shirtless.
She'd never seen Natasha without clothes. Her timing was never precise enough to catch Steve coming out of the shower. Seeing Phil shirtless would be like checking out some parental figure, so weird, that was a no. But there was one that was almost constantly sans-shirt. She didn't even have to try! Maybe just closing her eyes and wishing really hard would work.
... What the hell. Why not.
She squeezes her eyes shut and attempts to summon the hot archer guy. After a few seconds, she pops an eye open--
What: If you can't get drunk with the people you live with, who CAN you get drunk with?
Where: That one house with all those secret agents
When: End of day six?
Warnings: Intense idiocy, alcohol consumption, ridiculouslness
If there was one thing Kenzi had gotten really good at during her time here, it was sitting upside down on the couch in the living room and staring up at the ceiling. Blankly. For hours. It usually happened around the time she'd burnt herself out running around on a sugar high, trying to find something to do that didn't involve technology. Just after dark. Too early to sleep, too late to be productive. Making faces into the cameras had just lost its appeal. She wasn't an expert on giant boxes that fell from the sky and would probably only get in the way if she tried to be productive and help, so couch it was.
With her legs over the back, bent at the knees, and her head hanging off the seat, Kenzi just kind of stayed there. Flopped over like a rag doll. Maybe if she was lucky, one of her roomies would be walking around shirtless.
She'd never seen Natasha without clothes. Her timing was never precise enough to catch Steve coming out of the shower. Seeing Phil shirtless would be like checking out some parental figure, so weird, that was a no. But there was one that was almost constantly sans-shirt. She didn't even have to try! Maybe just closing her eyes and wishing really hard would work.
... What the hell. Why not.
She squeezes her eyes shut and attempts to summon the hot archer guy. After a few seconds, she pops an eye open--