breakmychest

[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.]

[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.]

God, the incessant nattering from all of you, especially lately. All these stupid complaints and general whinging. Makes a bloke want to rip out all your throats.

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.]

[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.]

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Entries tagged with i killed my mum twice

XXXVIII--video;

XXXI -- accidental voice;

XXIX -- voice -- Spike joins Team Nanomite;

XXVIII -- voice;

XXIV -- video.

XX -- text/video;

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