XXX -- accidental voice;

[breakmychest]

[Spike is sick of being in the infirmary. He's not really feeling healthy by any definition of the word, but he didn't get where he is today by letting things like that get in his way.]

Right. Checking myself out, doc!

[He doesn't wait for an answer before swinging his legs out of the bed. He gets hit by a wave of dizziness, but he puts a hand on the wall until it subsides. Then he grabs his coat and starts making his way slowly out of the infirmary. If any doctor tries to stop him, he will glare. He's not really over his death toll, but he's going to spend the rest of it in his own room with his own Passions DVDs. And he will make it, even if he has to stop a few times and take the elevator.]



[ooc: Open for replies over the journals, for which we can assume some elapsed time because he isn't responding until he reaches his destination, or spam from anyone in the medical room, near his room, or anywhere in between. Also, of course, open to horribly awkward hugs. Or non-awkward hugs, but those seem less likely.]

Comments

[bigbad]

Spike shook his head and ignored her. She was a tiresome, infuriating woman, but he did love her. He settled back and prepared to have a running commentary over the normal soundtrack. Couldn't be too bad, right?