lucetilogs | All the Trauma

Entry tags:

All the Trauma

Who: Everyone is currently Mallynapped
What: Interacting between being experimented on (in the cells)
When: Well I'll be doing it during Masaomi's kidnapping time (The fifth) onwards, but basically any point in the last week or so and over the weekend
Where: In the detention center for kidnapped peoples.
Summary: Interacting in the same cell, in neighboring cells, etc. Feel free to be creative.
Rating: Probably high due to horrors

Dingy Cells. Experiments. Comrades in pain. Possibly shackles, possibly shenanigans, a lot of negative things. Feel free to interact for it!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You'd think them pretty sloppy doctors, leaving you like that. But clearly--[He gestures.] That isn't the case.

[He's leading, here--if the Malnosso had a reason for doing that, Buffy probably knew.]

[ she does know. she just...doesn't quite know how to say it. she drops the hem of her top and smooths it back across her stomach. ]

I'm sure they had a hell of a time watching the slow and painful recovery of a Slayer without her regeneration rate.

Regeneration rate. [Accelerated healing. And his interest is piqued for a reason that probably wouldn't thrill her: he wants to know how it works. But he's at least tactful enough to know that this isn't the time or place to ask about it, and he really don't want to get too nosy right now. He doesn't want to piss her off, and even more, he doesn't want to encourage her being nosy right back at him.

Getting personal? Yeah, that's not really something he wants to deal with right now.]

That was probably quite the change of pace. Did you at least take up knitting or something to keep from going crazy?

...Do I look like I knit?

[ she lifts her brows. ] That's around when I started working at Good Spirits. And I started training a la normality.

I try not to make assumptions. You never know. Maybe I sell balloons in my spare time.

[Snark, but his heart still isn't in it. He falls silent for a moment. God, he's terrible at this, isn't he? He should probably say something comforting. We'll be fine. They won't kill us. It can't be worse than last time. But he just can't muster it.]

Welp, glad you found something to pass the time. I think I'm already a little less sane than when I got here.

...At least you were sane to start off with. Not everyone is.

[Oh, that's nice.]

Yeah, I've noticed. Funny how the backwater Twilight Zone attracts the best lunatics of all. [If he ever got that therapy business up and running, he'd make a fortune here.

You know, were there currency.]

...Nothing but the grade A crazies for us. But they have their charms.

Do they now. [He sounds disinterested, but:] Well, I've got time. Apparently. Enlighten me.

[ his disinterest rankles her and she gives her head a quick shake. ] Go enlighten yourself.

[ and then, a little guiltily: ] It's the slightly out-of-touch ones who end up with the fiercest grips on reality, when they see it. A good thing to pay attention to.

[He doesn't think about it too much right now, but she does have a point.] Super. So as long as we rally with the oddballs, we'll be in good shape.

You can't tell me you don't have a little bit of crazy in you. Most of us usually do.

Oh, sure. I'll count myself in that group of oddballs. Any genius suffers from it.

What you lack in modesty you make up for in honesty. Go you.

Hey, I'm nothing if not honest.

[Except for when he can't even tell his closest friends that he's dying. Whoops.

And that thought is a little crashing and sobering. He can't forget where he is. Even if the company could be worse right now.]

And from the looks of it? You're not nothing. Ergo...

[ the slayer trails off. ]

[And yeah, he's just going to...watch that Suddenly Very Interesting corner over there.]

Least they could do is throw us a checker board. Clue. Monopoly, even.

...The Game of Life. Then we could at least pretend to be living.

You can sure say that again.

[Please don't. He doesn't much like to think about how his lifestyle has had to change and adapt since coming here. Mostly because he's not really admitting to himself that he's had to.]

...Tell me, Tony. Say we did play Clue. Which piece would you pick? 'Cause I'm painting you as somewhere between Mr. Green and Professor Plum.

[Question is, can he even remember the last time he played Clue?]

Let's face it. I'd probably choose one of the ladies. Miss Scarlet. She sounded hot.

Too bad. In this hypothetical game of Clue, I'm Miss Scarlet.

[ miss scarlet always goes first, you see. ]

[He leans his head back against the wall. Too bad the damn wings keep sitting like this from actually being comfortable.]

Okay, fine. But I'm not the fat, old maid. The other one. Mrs. Peacock. Sure, I'll be her.

...You'd probably even look good in blue. Good choice.

You say that like there's a color I can't pull off. Or--a hypothetical murderer. Actually, never mind. That sounds bad. I take it back.

[Yeah, not too keen on pulling off a hypothetical murderer.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject