breakmychest | Entries tagged with bloody stupid floods

Anyone want to spar in the gym? I'd also be up for getting very, very drunk.

[Locked from Buffy]

People generally are different during the Breaches, right? Even more so then during floods or ports?

How different?

[Private to Bruce and Elric separately]

Did you speak to Buffy during the Breach?

[In this particular circumstance, "speak" means "have sex."]

[Private to Fred]

You get through the madness in one piece?

[Private to Elphaba]

How goes your quest for friendship?

[The camera turns on to reveal a frail-looking old woman in Victorian garb. She seems rather confused by the contraption, but she does understand how it works thanks to the general Barge run-down she's received. When she notices that it's recording, she smiles and sits back. She's on a beaten up looking couch and trying to look as if she's not uncomfortable with how old it looks, or how very modern the room is. She partially succeeds.]

Hello, I am Mrs. Anne Pratt. I hear my son William is a Warden here. [She frowns for a moment.] Though I can hardly believe this is his room. He seems to have... adjusted. [Her face smooths over, and she smiles again.] I'm very proud of him, even if I--

[She stops and coughs into a handkerchief for several seconds.] Excuse me. [She sips from a glass of water, then continues.]

It's not the direction I'd have expected, but I am certain he's doing good work.

[She smiles again, then turns off the camera.]

Well, that was interesting. Glad I didn't revert. That would have been... bloody.

[He looks distant for a moment, then shakes his head and smiles.]

Makes you appreciate what you've got today, though, doesn't it? Unless things were better then, I suppose.

[Locked to Buffy]

How are you, love? I know thinking about Angel, especially at that point, must have hurt. You all right?

[The fact that she was thinking about how she'd just slept with Angel doesn't bother him at all. No, that's not sarcasm, he's seriously fine.]

[Locked to Andrew]

Well, you were a good ten times as obnoxious then as you are now.

[This his way of paying you a compliment. Appreciate it.]

[ooc: so I finally settled on jealousy as what's changing about Spike, especially when it comes to Angel, but all over, really. He just plain isn't worried about it.]

The Admiral's run out of ideas if he's doing this one again. We've already played this song, and if I end up dealing with undead copies of my friends again, I'll... well, I don't rightly know, but at least this time I know the real one's all right.

[Take that, undead Buffy.]

Still not clear how this whole deal's supposed to work. Did we just hit a dimension with really good reception?

[It's times like these a filter would come in handy, but give William a break. He's only just managed to master the art of actually using the weird futuristic device. Figuring out privacy settings... a bit beyond him.]

Mr. Paddy? [William looks as polite and earnest as he can.] Thank you very much for the pizza. I enjoyed it quite a bit.

[He glances down, a bit embarrassed.]

The thing is... I'm still hungry. Very hungry, actually. [And not for more pizza. William's not sure what he wants, just that he sometimes catches a whiff of something... delicious and confusing around other people.] The pizza was good, but do you have anything more filling? [He adds hastily.] If you please.

[ooc: Guess what tiny vampire is craving blood? It's unlikely he'll actually attack anyone, or if they do, he'll probably be pretty easy to fend off, but his fangs may come out, which will be... awkward all around.]

[William does not know where he is. The room is not like his at home. It's sparse, undecorated, and none of his books are around. Instead, there are odd devices all around, some boxes and metal cans that smell like alcohol, and a strange box that's flashing with multicoloured lights and the sound of voices.

That, at least, has him curious enough that he wanders closer, until he can see that the lights form a moving picture. He gasps, surprised, and then what the picture is registers.]

That... that's not decent! Where are that woman's clothes?

[There has to be a switch or a knob or something to shut it off. William's too embarrassed to look for it, though, so he just rushes for the door and takes off.]

Mother! Where are you, Mother?

[ooc: No, Spike was not watching porn. It's just a scene in some film or TV show that doesn't quite make it to 19th century modesty standards.]

[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.]

And just like that, no more Dru. Can't say I'll miss her, exactly, but I'd have liked it if she could've graduated. I mean, we had fun, back in the bad old days. Not saying I'd go back to being an evil killer. There's the soul-crushing guilt keeping me from that, and besides, I like being a hero. I'm way better at it than I ever was at being the Big Bad.

[He's quiet for a moment.]

Still, before she turned me, I was a bloody pathetic poofter. People were calling me "William the Bloody" started before I died, you know, and it wasn't because of anything violent. It was because my poetry was so bloody awful.

[Why did he say that? Spike doesn't tell anyone that. He had more to say, but he just shuts off the journal before he can. He's afraid of what might come out.]

From the sounds of it, I should be glad I missed the latest port. Desert wastelands aren't exactly vampire-friendly. Maybe if we get a particularly cloudy port or something. Still, would have been nice to get out for a bit.

I'll be in the pub if anyone needs me.

[Elphaba]

Check in, love. How's the making friends and influencing people going?

[Drusilla]

Haven't talked to you in a bit. That Warden of yours treating you all right? Did you get caught in the port?

[Spike knows it's a flood, and he's not particularly happy about it. Still, so far he doesn't seem to be affected, as far as he can tell. He's sitting on his bed, smoking, and not looking at the camera, though he knows it's on.]

A flood again? That's bloody brilliant, mates.
What's this one, then? Not musical, thank God.
Guess I'll just watch and see when it abates.

[He glances over at the camera.]

Have people noticed anything that's odd?
The Barge can get so hellishly insane.
With floods and ports, and strange dimensions, right?
The Admiral must like how we curse his name.
How long till he drives vamps with souls to bite?

[He shakes his head, smiling a bit.]

Don't be alarmed, I'm nowhere near that place.
But who can know what horrors next we face?

[ooc: Spike's power, which he cannot turn off, is to speak in perfect iambic pentameter. He shall be answering in rhyming couplets, sonnets, quatrains, whatever I feel like. Also, he hasn't noticed anything amiss himself.]

[Text: Locked to Elphaba and Drusilla (but separately.)]

You all right? Where'd you land?

[Video: Everyone]

[Where Spike usually is, there is instead a surly looking boy with very sharp cheekbones and hair that's been bleached and spiked. His clothes are all black, but there are more chains than Spike usually wears, and the t-shirt is advertising some death metal band. He's touching his neck, right where his pulse is.]

Well. This is an interesting port.

[He drops his hand and puts down his backpack to rifle through it.]

I hope the Admiral isn't expecting me to actually attend school here. Because there is no bloody way. I've dealt with enough teenagers in the past few years to hold me over for an eternity. And I'm not amused by being one of them.

[He pulls out a wallet and starts going through it, pulling the cash out first by habit. Even though it's his wallet and he doesn't steal anymore.]

Right, so apparently I'm William Pratt while I'm here, though people still call me Spike, thank god, and--

[He stops, holding a folded-up photograph he just found in the wallet. It's not viewable rom the journal, but Spike's face is. It's a mixture of horrified, sad, and general surprise. The picture is of the kid he's become and... his mother. Looking just like she did in life, though in more modern clothes.

After a moment he remembers the journal and shuts it off. He has to look at this more closely. It's an impossibility, of course. They didn't take snapshots when he was alive, and when he was a kid, he didn't look like that, but it's still his mother. He stares at it for another moment, then folds it up and slips it into his pocket.]

[Spike's walking through the halls, trying not to look nervous or rushed. The things Yanky Cthulhu or whoever he was had said about Spike being on some sort of list, about him dying, he'd hoped it was some new inmate mouthing off, but with all the other weirdness, all the gods and possessions... he can't help but think that it was probably more. He needs to find his inmate. And he needs to warn everyone else.

When he sees two of the big Aztec warrior blokes, he curses and ducks into the pool room. No time to track Elphaba down. He quickly turns on his journal. He looks worried, but he doesn't have time to try and compose himself.]

Look, I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but in case it wasn't already obvious, these god people are bad news. Keep track of your people, everyone, get somewhere safe if it's possible.

[Elphaba]

Love, something's going on. I don't know if I'll be able to protect you. Get somewhere safe. I'll find you if I can. Don't trust the gods or anyone not acting like themselves.

[He hopes she's not possessed.]

[Warden Filter]

One of the gods said something about me being on a list and dying. I don't know if--

[He breaks off and looks up as the Aztec Warriors come into the room.]

Please, come with us.

Just be careful, all right? And someone find Elphaba, I don't think I'll be able to protect her.

Come with us, honored one.

[Spike shuts off the journal and slips it in his duster pocket. Then he stands up.]

Do your worst.

[ooc: So despite Spike's best efforts, he is going to get captured this time and hauled down to zero. So all replies to this entry will happen after a violent fight in which any normal human would have died, but Spike didn't try the heart-ripping method, so eventually they overpowered him. Also, he's getting held over a chili fire in hopes that it will make him less annoying. It won't work, he'll just get grumpy. So assume time lapse by the time Spike replies!

Also, the purple dialogue is the Aztec Warriors, if that wasn't obvious.]

So wait, there are people from off the Barge getting on the journals or something?

Right. I'm Spike, I'm a Warden, blah blah blah, anyone I know around?

...Buffy, maybe?

As the sanest vampire warden on board, I'm taking charge of the blood distribution process. Now, I need to know if there's anyone who's got ice or can make it or anything like that. I want to keep what we have good as long as possible.

That being said, and I'm really hoping it doesn't come to this, we might run out, and we might need donations. I know other people have asked, but tell me again so I can get a list started. I'm personally planning on holding out as long as I can, which is a while, but I don't want any attacks, and not everyone's me.

Just... anyone who can help. Let me know.

[Filtered to vampires]

All right, kiddies, I need to know how how often you need to feed and any other special requirements. Don't start eating people. My room's 409. Feel free to come visit.

[/vampires]

[Filtered to Elphaba]

Doing all right, pet?

[/Elphaba]

My cabin bloody reeks. I hate scented washes and perfumes since they cover up real smells. Is this someone's idea of a joke? I wasn't going to dress up! And then... that? God, I hate Halloween.

If anyone needs me, I'll be getting very drunk.

[The feed starts out dark, then Spike flicks on his lighter, illuminating just his face. He starts to sing. And his voice is good.]

If I could just hide
The sinner inside
And keep him denied
How sweet life would be
If I could be free
From the sinner in me

( I'll never be a saint. )

[The song ends and Spike retrieves his lighter and lights a cigarette, glowering.]

Bloody hell, I hate musicals.