breakmychest

[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.]

[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.