Birthday party post

[showyousomethingnice]

((OOC: In celebration of Reo's birthday, here is a party post! Any and all Reos you want to thread with, it can cross RP verses or be part of an RP verse or just outside the verse, and it's low commitment! You can drop it whenever you feel like it. As can I. Also your character doesn't have to have threaded with Reo before, that's what the +1 on the RSVP is for!

Throw up a starter, ping me here or on Plurk to plan something out, whatever works for you.))

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[showyousomethingnice]

The twentieth birthday is less exciting in America than it is in Japan; at home, it's the age of majority, but here it is (according to his teammates) the official start of the final countdown to being able to (legally) buy alcohol. Reo finds that a bit of a letdown, and it doesn't help that he can't even use a cellphone or computer long enough for his family to call or Skype him on the day.

(They sent gifts and cards timed to arrive as close to the day as possible, which he of course appreciates, but it isn't the same as being able to hear their voices.)

Despite his best efforts to remain positive and focus on the good, he's been feeling a little lost all day in a way he hasn't felt since his first few weeks in America. He's looking forward to his lessons with Ms Dresden even more than usual, knowing they'll take his mind off everything in a way his classes couldn't manage. Maybe that will be the mental reset he needs to finish the day on a good note.

He keys into the wards, lets himself inside (no need to knock when the wards register his presence and let Ms Dresden know about it), and is definitely surprised by what greets him.

"Oh!" His expression brightens immediately. "Ms Dresden! Bob-san! Thank you!"

[notharry]

"How many times do I hafta say to knock that 'san' stuff off?" Bob's voice echoes from his skull-home, sounding uncomfortable. Haley just grins.

"Happy birthday, apprentice," she says, rather than making Reo answer that, unless he really wants to. "I, uh, had no idea what kind of cake you liked best, so it's this vanilla-chocolate marble thing. Or it's supposed to be. It might have wound up more mixed up than it should have been."

"Dresden's not the best cook, you know," Bob adds, twinkling mockingly in her direction.