notafuckingnut | [013] Please tell me why

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[013] Please tell me why

[The last thing Richie remembers is being in Lua's room. And mostly boredom broken up by periodic forced trips to the kitchen because she didn't trust him left alone; she never said it, but he figured it out on his own anyway. A lecture (or what generally passed for one from Lua, anyway) after he ransacked the room once while looking for something to occupy his attention for more than five minutes tended to get the message across fairly well.

He expects to be in that same room when he wakes up, but in a complete break from predictability and reason, he's not.

He's in the infirmary instead.

The Barge is soon treated to a Richie who's still half-asleep, and looks it. He runs a hand absently through his hair, mussing it further in the process before smoothing it down reflexively (for all the good it actually does), then rubs at his eyes to clear the crust before glancing around.]

Lua? Where'd you...?

[He looks completely baffled by his surroundings, and after a moment or so longer of trying to solve the puzzle he turns his attention to the screen, blinking at it blearily.]

What. the. fuck. How'd I get here? If this is another fucked up Barge thing... Or...

[An idea suddenly dawns on him, and instead of just lazily addressing the Barge in general for more directionless ranting he seems to wake up a bit more, glaring irritatedly at the screen.]

You. Fucking punk. Whatever the hell your name is. Your ass is dead.

[A/N: Have a post-Barge!coma Richie, public. Who seems to think Jesse is as good a person to blame for the situation as anyone else, completely absent any ACTUAL information. Also open spam for those either in the infirmary or anyone who wants to drop by.]

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He didn't kill you.

Who the hell are you talking to?

Well yeah, he'd have to be some kinda fucking ninja or something 'cause I think I'd remember that.

[Pause, then grumbling.]

...I wasn't saying he did anyway. I just don't make a habit of waking up in hospitals, I didn't even end up here when he got the lucky shot in. But I'm sure he's got something to do with it this time too.

What's his...that little asshole punk. The one who thinks he's so fucking tough.

...Jesse. I think. Why?

... Oh.

I thought you might've meant someone else.

Wait. Jesse. He's... he's that guy in yellow, right?

Like who?

Maybe, it's not like he's stuck in it. I don't remember anyway.

That's for me to know.

You want to kill a dude you barely even remember?

...Whatever.

No, I remember the guy. I remember him fine, he said some shit he wasn't supposed to so I beat the shit out of him once already. [...More or less. If by "beat the shit out of" you mean "got in a scuffle with and was knocked out by," but Richie's never been exactly 100% truthful.] I meant I don't remember if he was wearing yellow or not.

[Guess who's back on his feet and working in the infirmary while glaring hatefully at you?]

[Yeah, you keep glaring. Richie's just going to return it with a blank look, as if he has NO IDEA who you are.]

Can I help you?

[Huhwha? Jesse said it had been a faceless ghost.] Wait, what do you mean?

Hey, jerkoff, I didn't touch you. [Albeit not for lack of trying or intent!]

...What do I mean what? Last thing I remember I was somewhere else, and then next thing I know I'm fucking here and I don't have any fucking idea how. He's got to have something to do with it, I know he does, I don't know what he did, but it's the only thing that I can think of. It's gotta be...payback or something. For before.

[He's getting agitated just thinking about it, and the more he talks about it the more certain he is, never mind that he's wrong. But he stops, for a moment at least, to take a breath, and he seems fractionally calmer afterwards; he needs her on his side, and he knows there's something going on between the two of them, based on how Jesse keeps reacting. If he wants her on his side he needs to be the victim in this, not the crazy guy ranting and raving.

When he resumes he's quieter, less loud gestures and bravado and closer to pathetic and harmless.]

Sorry. I shouldn't be swearing at you, it's not your fault he's a jerk.

[Glaaaaaring]

Yeah, well I didn't just stroll in and pass out on the bed, did I?

I don't know. Did you?

[He laughs.] You beat the shit out of him? Remind me not to piss you off. Who are you, anyway?

[If there are dudes going around the Barge beating people up for shooting their mouths off, he kind of wants to know. Seeing as how that is one of his favorite hobbies. :o]

Like I said. He said shit he shouldn't have, he had it coming. He's just lucky he got a good shot in or else he would've been even worse off.

I'm Richie. Who're you?

No. I didn't. I just fucking said I didn't.

Why should I believe you?

Yeah, I'll bet.

The name's David.

[His gaze simply lingered a moment longer, before he said,] Of course not. Dinner will be ready shortly.

[Well... at least he has a pretty excellent alibi.] What's the last day you remember? I mean, what day was it?

[Think think think.]

Saturday? Maybe? What's that got to do with anything, it's...what, Sunday?

Last Saturday? I was in my room all day.

Well it's nice to meet you, David. You seem like you've got less of a stick up your ass than a lot of people here. [Only slightly disingenuous; he can play nice when it's useful.]

[Blank look]

And I was in somebody else's room all day 'cause she insisted. So you fucking explain it.

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