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Tags:
- [verse]: if the barge is a-rockin',
- abusing letters again,
- breaking things -- must be sunday,
- deathtolling like a boss,
- does richie have to stab a bitch,
- everybody needs a nemesis,
- hands belong inside the vehicle,
- let's not do that again,
- life hurts,
- lua's such a mother hen,
- makes for stormy weather,
- richie fails at life,
- save the cheerleader?,
- there's a lesson in here somewhere,
- when horrors bite back
Hey, Admiral Fucktard. Your system sucks. It's broken.
But thanks, I guess. Makes my life easier.
[PRIVATE to Lua]
...Hey, youstill around alright over there around?
[A/N: his Warden's gone, and Lua's MIA as far as he can tell (he's out of the loop -- big surprise); SOMEONE is having a bad week.]
But thanks, I guess. Makes my life easier.
[PRIVATE to Lua]
...Hey, you
[A/N: his Warden's gone, and Lua's MIA as far as he can tell (he's out of the loop -- big surprise); SOMEONE is having a bad week.]
[020] you're gonna shoot your eye outttt
Dec. 26th, 2011 01:07 pm[Hey Barge, you're currently being treated to a close-up of a hand. Not a very helpful shot, is it.
No problem, it clears up a few minutes later, to be replaced with 15-year-old Richie, staring at the screen like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. He's even got that same vacantly engrossed expression just about every girl he's come across in his older version has been fortunate enough to be treated to.
...In his defense though, it probably is; as far as he knows he went to bed at the Home and woke up...somewhere else. With tech that's a lot more sophisticated than what he's used to.]
Silly putty? Are you fucking kidding me?! That shit stopped being cool when I was like...ten.
...And what's with this sweater. It's like...two sizes too big. And covered in penguins.
Although I guess this thing's okay. What is this, like a phone or a computer or something? It's tiny.
[He looks around the room, as if seeing it for the first time, and he smiles hesitantly, the smile of a kid long-used to being the butt of other people's practical jokes but still happy he's at least included, but it's clear he doesn't really find it that amusing.]
...Okay, guys; cheap motel room, I get it, ha-ha, very funny, you can come out now. It's like twenty four hours too late to be relevant anyway.
[Nobody comes out of the door, nobody even turns the handle. A minute or so passes, and then he turns his head, like he heard something, but it's either too quiet to be registered by the mic or he's jumping at shadows because there's nothing audible. He waits another minute or so, and now he sounds less certain, a little quieter than his earlier bravado.]
...Seth? You there?
No problem, it clears up a few minutes later, to be replaced with 15-year-old Richie, staring at the screen like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. He's even got that same vacantly engrossed expression just about every girl he's come across in his older version has been fortunate enough to be treated to.
...In his defense though, it probably is; as far as he knows he went to bed at the Home and woke up...somewhere else. With tech that's a lot more sophisticated than what he's used to.]
Silly putty? Are you fucking kidding me?! That shit stopped being cool when I was like...ten.
...And what's with this sweater. It's like...two sizes too big. And covered in penguins.
Although I guess this thing's okay. What is this, like a phone or a computer or something? It's tiny.
[He looks around the room, as if seeing it for the first time, and he smiles hesitantly, the smile of a kid long-used to being the butt of other people's practical jokes but still happy he's at least included, but it's clear he doesn't really find it that amusing.]
...Okay, guys; cheap motel room, I get it, ha-ha, very funny, you can come out now. It's like twenty four hours too late to be relevant anyway.
[Nobody comes out of the door, nobody even turns the handle. A minute or so passes, and then he turns his head, like he heard something, but it's either too quiet to be registered by the mic or he's jumping at shadows because there's nothing audible. He waits another minute or so, and now he sounds less certain, a little quieter than his earlier bravado.]
...Seth? You there?
It's official; I'm sick of snow. You can take it away now, I'm done.
[Private to not-Santa]
( Seth, Will, Lua, and Claire, as well as selfish wants he probably shouldn't be granted. )
[Private to not-Santa]
( Seth, Will, Lua, and Claire, as well as selfish wants he probably shouldn't be granted. )
[Anyone paying attention is treated to a good thirty seconds of humming -- "Jingle Bell Rock" at first but then "Do They Know It's Christmas" -- but it stops abruptly when he actually finds his train of thought.]
..Is there a word for when you get a song stuck in your head, but every time you get to one part it turns into something else? And it keeps looping because you can't remember any more of it?
There's probably one in German. They're always good for that.
But seriously. I'm getting sick of it; it ends up on that one about whether or not people know it's Christmas and it's just fucking depressing.
[He looks guilty for all of ten seconds -- he's probably not supposed to be cursing, at least not out loud because it's impolite, but whatever.]
[A/N: AU!Richie is the adoptive son of William von Graham and Hannibal. He's a little misguided, and has a tendency towards Bad Life Choices, cursing like a sailor, submitting to peer pressure entirely too easily, and impulsive decisionmaking, but he's generally not a bad kid.
Although you might not want to leave him in charge of your pets, plants, or small children; he tends to be unintentionally neglectful of them.]
..Is there a word for when you get a song stuck in your head, but every time you get to one part it turns into something else? And it keeps looping because you can't remember any more of it?
There's probably one in German. They're always good for that.
But seriously. I'm getting sick of it; it ends up on that one about whether or not people know it's Christmas and it's just fucking depressing.
[He looks guilty for all of ten seconds -- he's probably not supposed to be cursing, at least not out loud because it's impolite, but whatever.]
[A/N: AU!Richie is the adoptive son of William von Graham and Hannibal. He's a little misguided, and has a tendency towards Bad Life Choices, cursing like a sailor, submitting to peer pressure entirely too easily, and impulsive decisionmaking, but he's generally not a bad kid.
Although you might not want to leave him in charge of your pets, plants, or small children; he tends to be unintentionally neglectful of them.]
[Backdated to closer to the end of the flood because I meant to post this sooner and...didn't?
Have Richie on screen, clearly pretty darn pleased about the whole Flood in general.]
That?
Fucking. Awesome.
I mean, I'm not really much for history, it's all dates and places and shit that doesn't matter when you're doing the day to day thing. The Battle of the Bulge? The fuck does that mean for me tomorrow? I'll tell you. Jack and shit. There was a war, people fought, people died, and then somebody came out on top and everything ended happily ever after in one place or another. I don't need it; I'm glad it happened and everything, but it doesn't change the fucking price of cheese puffs or whatever your snack of choice is.
But those military guys? Kick ass when you're actually dealing with 'em. I mean...Jesus Christ. Quit complaining about it, because I don't know about you, but that was insane.
...I guess the guy in the [...] cape was pretty bitchin' too.
Have Richie on screen, clearly pretty darn pleased about the whole Flood in general.]
That?
Fucking. Awesome.
I mean, I'm not really much for history, it's all dates and places and shit that doesn't matter when you're doing the day to day thing. The Battle of the Bulge? The fuck does that mean for me tomorrow? I'll tell you. Jack and shit. There was a war, people fought, people died, and then somebody came out on top and everything ended happily ever after in one place or another. I don't need it; I'm glad it happened and everything, but it doesn't change the fucking price of cheese puffs or whatever your snack of choice is.
But those military guys? Kick ass when you're actually dealing with 'em. I mean...Jesus Christ. Quit complaining about it, because I don't know about you, but that was insane.
...I guess the guy in the [...] cape was pretty bitchin' too.
Now what do we have here. I get what's goin' on here, don't think I don't.
This here's what we call an Indian trade; you let me think I'm gettin' you this big bad schnitzel-eatin' sonuvabitch when really you're just handin' us all back over to the Krauts. Thought you could get one over on me, dintcha. Well HA, 'cause the joke's on you, now ain't it?
[...Once he figures out how to get around it, anyway.]
Ain't even that bad digs.
This here's what we call an Indian trade; you let me think I'm gettin' you this big bad schnitzel-eatin' sonuvabitch when really you're just handin' us all back over to the Krauts. Thought you could get one over on me, dintcha. Well HA, 'cause the joke's on you, now ain't it?
[...Once he figures out how to get around it, anyway.]
Ain't even that bad digs.
[The camera shows the ceiling of his room and all its varied cracks, and...that's it. Off-camera you can hear Richie shouting at...something and the occasional crash of one thing or another toppling from its usual spot. The camera view shakes once, then stills again.
Fortunately he doesn't actually have that many belongings to break.]
Stay. Still. You fucking COCKROACH.
[Another crash as something shatters into pieces.]
a/n: Someone's room has been invaded by faeries. Well. One, anyway. His door's open, so feel free to stop by if you hear the ruckus!
Fortunately he doesn't actually have that many belongings to break.]
Stay. Still. You fucking COCKROACH.
[Another crash as something shatters into pieces.]
a/n: Someone's room has been invaded by faeries. Well. One, anyway. His door's open, so feel free to stop by if you hear the ruckus!
[Accidental Visual]
[Viewers can't see much; the communicator's on the floor after he abandoned it there earlier, meaning it's mostly ceiling and the side of the bed. There's an arm and a leg draped over the side towards the camera, fingers tapping against the fabric rhythmically as if to some song in his head while the leg just dangles. There's a frustrated groan and a comic book comes sliding over the edge to land somewhere out of sight, and the visible limbs shift around as he tries to find a more comfortable position.
He mutters under his breath.]
...I'd give my left nut for some decent porn.
[Bored Richie is inexplicably bored. Which he prefers over recent events, but still. Bored.]
[Viewers can't see much; the communicator's on the floor after he abandoned it there earlier, meaning it's mostly ceiling and the side of the bed. There's an arm and a leg draped over the side towards the camera, fingers tapping against the fabric rhythmically as if to some song in his head while the leg just dangles. There's a frustrated groan and a comic book comes sliding over the edge to land somewhere out of sight, and the visible limbs shift around as he tries to find a more comfortable position.
He mutters under his breath.]
...I'd give my left nut for some decent porn.
[Bored Richie is inexplicably bored. Which he prefers over recent events, but still. Bored.]
[013] Please tell me why
Nov. 7th, 2011 06:49 pm[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.]
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.]
[Accidental!Video to the masses, Spam for Lua]
[The feed flips on, revealing a dark gray that shifts around with the sounds of motion, although voices can be heard, one clearly agitated and just as obviously male, the other more hushed and female.
Note for ease of following: regular text is Richie, bolded text is Lua]
( cut for length. )
[The feed flips on, revealing a dark gray that shifts around with the sounds of motion, although voices can be heard, one clearly agitated and just as obviously male, the other more hushed and female.
Note for ease of following: regular text is Richie, bolded text is Lua]
( cut for length. )
[Unintentional VIDEO post, with intentional SPAM for Graham]
-- I'm fucking fine, okay? You're hovering.
[All the whining. It might be the concussion talking, but it's probably just Richie being Richie.
He's talking to someone off-screen. It's Richie's room, to those familiar with the location, and Richie himself, currently seated on the worn single, looks a little worse for wear; split lip for one, without his glasses for another, but he also seems groggy, and he appears to be making an active attempt not to move more than he has to.]
[A/N: Takes place a few hours after the conclusion of this. Richie has been located and returned to his room but is still accompanied by his warden unless otherwise specified, so assume interruptions are a possibility.]
-- I'm fucking fine, okay? You're hovering.
[All the whining. It might be the concussion talking, but it's probably just Richie being Richie.
He's talking to someone off-screen. It's Richie's room, to those familiar with the location, and Richie himself, currently seated on the worn single, looks a little worse for wear; split lip for one, without his glasses for another, but he also seems groggy, and he appears to be making an active attempt not to move more than he has to.]
[A/N: Takes place a few hours after the conclusion of this. Richie has been located and returned to his room but is still accompanied by his warden unless otherwise specified, so assume interruptions are a possibility.]
[Private to Graham, but....not so much at all.]
...There's something in my room.
THERE IS SOMETHING IN.MY.FUCKING.ROOM.
[Static]
-know, I know. It's old news, but. What the FUCK.
I'm not going in there. Even if it unlocks the door, I'm NOT fucking going in. There's something IN there.
...Fucking great.
[More unhelpful static]
-trying to fucking TALK to me.
[Feel free to either respond on the network or SPAM in the hallway outside his room, where he's currently pacing in an agitated fashion]
...There's something in my room.
THERE IS SOMETHING IN.MY.FUCKING.ROOM.
[Static]
-know, I know. It's old news, but. What the FUCK.
I'm not going in there. Even if it unlocks the door, I'm NOT fucking going in. There's something IN there.
...Fucking great.
[More unhelpful static]
-trying to fucking TALK to me.
[Feel free to either respond on the network or SPAM in the hallway outside his room, where he's currently pacing in an agitated fashion]
[009] honesty is rarely the best policy
Sep. 26th, 2011 10:11 amWe crash into things, we stop at fucking weird places, and now the damn boat floods? What's next, we get hit by pirates?
...Actually that would be kinda cool. Maybe then I would get to kill people without everybody hassling me about it all the time. Or join them; I like their philosophy. Their eye patches? Not so much. They creep me out.
Although they are kinda cool underneath; did you know eyeballs don't squish as much as you'd think?
[Cheerful, AFFECTED Richie is both cheerful and affected! Warning: he also shares ENTIRELY too much and is likely to run his mouth until you tell him you really would like him to stop talking. And even then he might try to continue anyway.
Belated, and I really should have put this up sooner:
Trigger Warnings: contained below is casual discussion of rape, torture, animal abuse, accidental murder, and confusion between kink and domestic violence, as well as TERRIBLE anti-rape advice.]
...Actually that would be kinda cool. Maybe then I would get to kill people without everybody hassling me about it all the time. Or join them; I like their philosophy. Their eye patches? Not so much. They creep me out.
Although they are kinda cool underneath; did you know eyeballs don't squish as much as you'd think?
[Cheerful, AFFECTED Richie is both cheerful and affected! Warning: he also shares ENTIRELY too much and is likely to run his mouth until you tell him you really would like him to stop talking. And even then he might try to continue anyway.
Belated, and I really should have put this up sooner:
Trigger Warnings: contained below is casual discussion of rape, torture, animal abuse, accidental murder, and confusion between kink and domestic violence, as well as TERRIBLE anti-rape advice.]
Tags:
Sooo. What the fuck was that? Stuck in a Disney movie? What's with that, that's like...somebody's idea of a joke or something. It has to be. Or one of the circles of hell. How can you land somewhere and it just....takes over everything, that doesn't make any fucking sense.
...And now I have all these weird-ass thoughts and shit and MAKE THEM GO AWAY holy fucking shit.
Also THANK YOU ASSHOLE for removing the censors; growling doesn't quite work the same way.
I fucking swear I'm staying below deck next time.
...And I can't find my glasses. If anybody took them or found them somewhere, I really need them back.
[PRIVATE to Lua]
I swear I wasn't actually gonna eat you. [...probably.] ...Even though I said I was. I didn't mean it, you didn't have to take off like that the minute my back was turned. [He might still be a little offended about that.]
[PRIVATE to Claire]
...Violet? Really?
[Pause pause pause]
...And I guess I should probably apologize for kidnapping you. [Probably. Although he's not sure WHY he should.]
Also THANK YOU ASSHOLE for removing the censors; growling doesn't quite work the same way.
I fucking swear I'm staying below deck next time.
...And I can't find my glasses. If anybody took them or found them somewhere, I really need them back.
[PRIVATE to Lua]
I swear I wasn't actually gonna eat you. [...probably.] ...Even though I said I was. I didn't mean it, you didn't have to take off like that the minute my back was turned. [He might still be a little offended about that.]
[PRIVATE to Claire]
...Violet? Really?
[Pause pause pause]
...And I guess I should probably apologize for kidnapping you. [Probably. Although he's not sure WHY he should.]
[Video]
[Snuffle snuffle. There's a people-sized Thing covered in fur and blue skin and tusks and wearing an almost comical pair of glasses sniffing at the communicator. It pauses for a moment to prod at it with an oversized claw, then, when it beeps in protest, backs up and kind of hisses at it, showing off rows of shark teeth in the process.
Meet Richie-the-goblin, fellow Barge occupants, or, as he'd tell you, Rukz. It's...kind of the same, right?]
[SPAM]
[He wandered the forest, looking for either shiny, glittering things or maidens wandering unaccompanied. He'd be happy with either; glittering often either accompanied or attracted tender, succulent maidens, so in all likelihood having one would result in the other sooner or later. He picked his way carefully through the underbrush, careful not to make any more noise than he had to -- it tended to scare them away.
A sound broke through the singing birds and the crunch of twigs, a high, clear sound that rose and fell in pitch; singing. Not birdsong or wind whistling through the trees and making it sound like they were singing, actual singing. He was close. Raising his head, ears twitched to try to pinpoint the location and after a few moments he set off in pursuit with a pleased cackle.]
[ooc: Richie has gone overboard and ended up as a goblin. Oh dear. Lock up your daughter, lock up your wife, lock up the back door, run for your life. Or just...you know. Grab your torch and/or pitchfork. Either one.]
[Snuffle snuffle. There's a people-sized Thing covered in fur and blue skin and tusks and wearing an almost comical pair of glasses sniffing at the communicator. It pauses for a moment to prod at it with an oversized claw, then, when it beeps in protest, backs up and kind of hisses at it, showing off rows of shark teeth in the process.
Meet Richie-the-goblin, fellow Barge occupants, or, as he'd tell you, Rukz. It's...kind of the same, right?]
[SPAM]
[He wandered the forest, looking for either shiny, glittering things or maidens wandering unaccompanied. He'd be happy with either; glittering often either accompanied or attracted tender, succulent maidens, so in all likelihood having one would result in the other sooner or later. He picked his way carefully through the underbrush, careful not to make any more noise than he had to -- it tended to scare them away.
A sound broke through the singing birds and the crunch of twigs, a high, clear sound that rose and fell in pitch; singing. Not birdsong or wind whistling through the trees and making it sound like they were singing, actual singing. He was close. Raising his head, ears twitched to try to pinpoint the location and after a few moments he set off in pursuit with a pleased cackle.]
[ooc: Richie has gone overboard and ended up as a goblin. Oh dear. Lock up your daughter, lock up your wife, lock up the back door, run for your life. Or just...you know. Grab your torch and/or pitchfork. Either one.]
[After the conclusion of this, there is a very worried looking Richie on-camera; wild eyes, twitching fingers, general restlessness - it's clear he's had some kind of shock and isn't handling it at all well.]
WILL SHE'S-
[Feed cuts out, only to click back on a few seconds later mid-rant]
- I FUCKING SWEAR I'M GONNA -
[Cuts out again]
[Private to Graham, only this time it's text]
WILL SHES HERE. SHES GOING 2 TRY 2 KILL ME AGAIN I FUCKING SWEAR. I NEED A GUN OR SOMETHING.
I had a visit 2. From some guys who seemd 2 think I did something I didnt do. A few nights ago. Thought u should know.
WILL SHE'S-
[Feed cuts out, only to click back on a few seconds later mid-rant]
- I FUCKING SWEAR I'M GONNA -
[Cuts out again]
[Private to Graham, only this time it's text]
WILL SHES HERE. SHES GOING 2 TRY 2 KILL ME AGAIN I FUCKING SWEAR. I NEED A GUN OR SOMETHING.
I had a visit 2. From some guys who seemd 2 think I did something I didnt do. A few nights ago. Thought u should know.
[A day or so after he's let out of his room]
[private post to Wanda that really isn't private at all because Richie fails often]
Hey, uh. You know that thing we did? Before? Is there a chance we could maybe do that again sometime?
[private post to Wanda that really isn't private at all because Richie fails often]
Hey, uh. You know that thing we did? Before? Is there a chance we could maybe do that again sometime?
[After damage control courtesy of Will. And yes, this post is during the Flood. Heh.]
[Private to Graham]
What the fuck, man? You could've just taken it, you didn't have to...what the hell was that for?! How am I s'posed to fucking live like this? PUT IT BACK, YOU FUCKING ASS.
[Private to Graham]
What the fuck, man? You could've just taken it, you didn't have to...what the hell was that for?! How am I s'posed to fucking live like this? PUT IT BACK, YOU FUCKING ASS.