breakmychest | Entries tagged with shouting aimlessly

[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.]

Normally it's annoying as hell giving all the new people the tedious "Welcome to the Barge, try not to break anything" speech, but I didn't mind as much this time around. [He's still enjoying having Buffy around. Oh, and Andrew's here too. Which is... better than some people who could have shown up.]

Hello, new people I haven't already spoken to, I'm Spike. Vampire warden, got a soul, won't bite unless you really annoy me... I lied, it's still boring.

[Elphaba]

So, did you do your homework this week, love?

Also, there's someone I'd like you to meet.

[/Elphaba]

[Buffy]

Want to meet my inmate?

[/Buffy]

[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.]

[Spike is full-sized again and very glad to be able abuse his favorite substances without needing an ID he didn't have. And be big enough that half a glass doesn't make him tipsy. Still, the port did teach him some things about his inmate, and it's time to get more active in his wardening.]

[Warden Filter]

How do I get my inmate a job? Does anyone need someone?

[Private to Elphaba]

When you get a chance, come up to my room. We've got to talk.

[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 looks considerably more cheerful than he did when he left. He also looks considerably more beaten up. This could be because he spent the past week fighting as many demons and vampires and in one case, a very confused slayer who'd gotten the wrong idea and hit him a few times before they'd sorted things out and averted a fairly small and routine apocalypse together. Still, the bruises and cuts may look bad, but they'll be gone by tomorrow, and the violence was really fun. So he's grinning when he turns on the camera.]

Hullo, everyone, I'm back!

[He leans back, tongue poking out from between his teeth.]

So. I miss anything interesting?

If I trip over another bough of holly, someone's bloody hall is going to get decked.

[Spike is not overflowing with Christmas spirit.]

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.

( Even more tl;dr )

[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.

[There's the sound of someone shouting, then a rushing, airy sound.]

I've caught on fire four times today! What the bloody hell is this?

[A bit of muffled cursing, then:]

...who put a coin in my mouth? Why?

[A pause while Spike examines said coin.]

Next time, how about going with big bills instead? Pennies are sodding useless, just annoying.

[Spike swings his sword, only to pull up short when he realizes the demon he'd been fighting is no longer there.]

Teleporter, huh? Well, you've got to come out eventually. Less you're scared.

[He glares around, waiting for the demon to reappear. Nothing happens.]

You're really turning tail, then? Smart of you. I'm Spike, champion of the bloody people, and you don't stand a…

[He trails off and looks around. Wait, this isn't Los Angeles, and he can't smell Doyle anymore, and he had been right around the corner. Not only is the demon gone, the bar he'd been about to go visit has completely vanished, along with the lady he was trying to protect. He leans on his sword for a moment and frowns.]

Bugger. Where the hell am I?