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paradisalost2011-08-31 09:51 pm
gottaknockhard.livejournal.com) wrote in paradisalost2011-08-31 09:51 pm
Entry tags:
029; dictated
[Jet used to say life goes in cycles, but to Spike, here it's more like a spiral. Lose everything you never really had until you're left with the nothing you started with -- all those ways of thinking that make you a productive member of society. Just wait around for the next suicide mission to pop up and spend the meantime catching up on some sleep. As it happened, Brock's cabin was conveniently left up for grabs, and Spike found his nice little getaway to not give a damn in.
After briefly getting cheered up by the mischief of the 'new gang' in town, he returns with a case of beer to the only place that has nothing but solitude to offer. Sure, it could still use a big TV and a fridge full of food, maybe a decent fan to get some of that musk out of there, but he isn't in the mood to be picky.
It's only after he makes himself comfortable on the couch that he hears something off to the side... Movement catches his eye, and he automatically draws his gun. In the shuffling that follows, the journal falls out of nowhere and opens just in time to pick up a screeching animal and the hollow sound of empty cans scattering to the ground from a nearby pile.]
Hey! [Gunshots fire, but from his shouting, it sounds like he only succeeded in scaring something away.] Sonofabitch... Raccoons now.
[So he'll admit to some drawbacks in this brilliant plan. Maybe the castle is trying to make a point with that journal he sees on the ground and reluctantly reaches for. Everything's always got to be complicated.] Might have had better luck with a tent. Can you wish up bear traps, or is that against the rules?
[Good job checking in, Spike.]
After briefly getting cheered up by the mischief of the 'new gang' in town, he returns with a case of beer to the only place that has nothing but solitude to offer. Sure, it could still use a big TV and a fridge full of food, maybe a decent fan to get some of that musk out of there, but he isn't in the mood to be picky.
It's only after he makes himself comfortable on the couch that he hears something off to the side... Movement catches his eye, and he automatically draws his gun. In the shuffling that follows, the journal falls out of nowhere and opens just in time to pick up a screeching animal and the hollow sound of empty cans scattering to the ground from a nearby pile.]
Hey! [Gunshots fire, but from his shouting, it sounds like he only succeeded in scaring something away.] Sonofabitch... Raccoons now.
[So he'll admit to some drawbacks in this brilliant plan. Maybe the castle is trying to make a point with that journal he sees on the ground and reluctantly reaches for. Everything's always got to be complicated.] Might have had better luck with a tent. Can you wish up bear traps, or is that against the rules?
[Good job checking in, Spike.]
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That would be the sound of a journal being dropped somewhere. It slips out of Julia's hands before she can even register what's happening. The sound of that oh-so-familiar voice has rendered her effectively paralyzed for the moment. Whatever she'd been doing, whatever thought she'd been having, are now all completely gone.
.... No, no. She has to be imagining this. There's no way that this is real. It's her mind's idea of a sick joke. She's lost those last little bits of sanity and has gone straight into hallucinating. That has to be it.
But that voice is so thoroughly unmistakable. She feels like she'd know the difference, and... it's real. The stupidity of what was going on over there on the other end was enough to confirm that (when it finally sunk in). Even if she can hardly dare to believe it.
A long moment of silence elapses before there's some rustling, indicating that she's bent down to pick up the dropped journal.]
... Taking up camping now?
[She's trying to keep the shock out of her voice and adopt more of a joking tone, but her efforts are not entirely successful.]
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But, some things she just can't ignore... and you just gave away your location, Spike. She'd almost forgotten about that stupid cabin. ...Unless raccoons were infiltrating the castle, now.]
[still sounding sniffly-nosed and awful, which takes a little of the bite out of her voice] Hope you've had all your shots.
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Dictated
[she's glad to hear from you, really. Even if it's by accident]
Dictated
Dictated
forever and ever
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Where are you.
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That would be the sound of a journal being dropped somewhere. It slips out of Julia's hands before she can even register what's happening. The sound of that oh-so-familiar voice has rendered her effectively paralyzed for the moment. Whatever she'd been doing, whatever thought she'd been having, are now all completely gone.
.... No, no. She has to be imagining this. There's no way that this is real. It's her mind's idea of a sick joke. She's lost those last little bits of sanity and has gone straight into hallucinating. That has to be it.
But that voice is so thoroughly unmistakable. She feels like she'd know the difference, and... it's real. The stupidity of what was going on over there on the other end was enough to confirm that (when it finally sunk in). Even if she can hardly dare to believe it.
A long moment of silence elapses before there's some rustling, indicating that she's bent down to pick up the dropped journal.]
... Taking up camping now?
[She's trying to keep the shock out of her voice and adopt more of a joking tone, but her efforts are not entirely successful.]
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But, some things she just can't ignore... and you just gave away your location, Spike. She'd almost forgotten about that stupid cabin. ...Unless raccoons were infiltrating the castle, now.]
[still sounding sniffly-nosed and awful, which takes a little of the bite out of her voice] Hope you've had all your shots.
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Dictated
[she's glad to hear from you, really. Even if it's by accident]
Dictated
Dictated
forever and ever
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Where are you.
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