[It's okay, Heather. These days you don't have a dad to send cards to, and Murphy doesn't have a son to get cards from. With their powers combined, they should cancel each other out or something!
[That's how it works, right?]
...I wish. More like a... sloppily hand-drawn one. Guess the... sentiment is still the same... more or less.
[She's willing to give it a try, at least. She flops down next to him, tone forcibly chipper. Misery loves company and all that so many if she can get him out of the dumps, she'll feel better.]
S'the thought that counts, right?
Can I see?
somebody should ban me from mspaint while i'm on vodka
[Good thing opposites have a way of working with each other as much as they can work against. In this case, Murphy is more or less grateful to the company than anything else.]
[Somebody doesn't look happy. Harry will just offer him a benign smile, though not too wide of one because there's obviously some trauma that factors into all this]
[Because Murphy is horrible at lying, even if he tried his hand at it. And he can't hide the fact that it's just a reminder that the significance of this day is lost now, after accepting the fact that he'll never hear or see his son ever again.]
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[Stop.]
...What've ya got?
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[Still, laughter's the best medicine, right?]
... Soooo, is it a corny Hallmark one?
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[That's how it works, right?]
...I wish. More like a... sloppily hand-drawn one. Guess the... sentiment is still the same... more or less.
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[She's willing to give it a try, at least. She flops down next to him, tone forcibly chipper. Misery loves company and all that so many if she can get him out of the dumps, she'll feel better.]
S'the thought that counts, right?
Can I see?
somebody should ban me from mspaint while i'm on vodka
Erm, ah... sure...
[Reluctantly, he displays the... work of art?
[If you could even call it that.]
...She... didn't even spell my name right.
no it is beautiful
... Oh.
... So, uh. Your mun is a five-year-old.
That's... that's pretty impressive.
[Heather das mean.]
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No, I'm, uh. I'm pretty sure some copious amounts of alcohol seems to be involved in this... I hope.
...I kinda envy my mun right now. [She's not shariiiinnnnggg. She even has Pendleton whiskey and she's not shariiiinnnnggg!]
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[She leans closer and squints hard at the picture.]
So... is that thing like... a truck made of ice, but breathing fire?
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[Other than the fact that maybe his mun really is five years old, durr.]
I'm not... really sure, honestly. I think those are supposed to be, uh. Headlights? Maybe...?
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Headlights, huh...
Kinda looks more like it's just barfing everywhere.
[FUN UPLIFTING FATHER'S DAY CONVERSATION, EVERYBODY.]
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[Murphy slooowly tilts his head at the picture.]
Huh. Guess it does.
[HE REALLY DOESN'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO MAKE OF IT.]
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It totally does!
Haha, that's so gross. Oh man.
[... Wait no wait supposed to be cheering him up. Immaturely laughing about barf is not how you do that.]
... Well, uh.
At least the colors are nice and ... uh, bright.
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Erm, yeah.
[What're you talking about? Barf is totally hilarious.]
Ugh, that doesn't even look anything like my car...
[Way to rain on the parade, Murph-- Oh, wait.]
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Seems like a significant day. Are you alright?
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[Because Murphy is horrible at lying, even if he tried his hand at it. And he can't hide the fact that it's just a reminder that the significance of this day is lost now, after accepting the fact that he'll never hear or see his son ever again.]