Hurts like a fucking son of a bitch, thanks for asking

So, now that the place has gone the Shinning on us, I think a last-ditch shindig is in order. Any takers?

Just think of it this way. If we don't, those of us NOT allowed a few rounds without "permission" when the cameras are rolling will have a long, dry, road of drama ahead of us, and who the fuck wants that to look forward to without a last hurrah to send us off?

...Justin, you're in, I'm assuming. I'm counting you as in, you're already on the list. Make it work. Cas-man, you too. [...No, this nickname has STILL not caught on. And never will. He'd apologize, Dimitri, except he's not sorry.]



[A/N: for the duration of the breach, Richie is Rob Tramontano, a bit part actor with a horrible tendency of getting roles where he gets killed off about 20 minutes after he shows up. ...and all of those were scored through a buddy who makes movies. After scoring this role he's started thinking he's hotter shit than he actually is; he's convinced this is his Big Break (never mind the fact that his character is pretty much universally despised other than by a small die-hard group who generally gets funny looks for it) and consequently tends to act a lot cockier about things than he probably should. ...Oh, and he's also got a reputation for being more than a little...eccentric, shall we say.]

...You mean to tell me it's not a change-up day? 'Cause, you know. Usually there's some kinda announcement or whatever, and it's been pretty hot and heavy lately, but...No?

Well okay then. Great. 'Cause holy fuck, I don't know about the rest of you but I could sure as hell use the vacation.


[PRIVATE to Profit]

Not sure if I apologized yet, but I'm sorry, man. That was kind of completely on me, I'm happy to chalk it up to the flood and move on. Lucky thing Castiel was there, right?

[Heh.]


[PRIVATE to Claire]

[The transmission stops and starts a couple times before anything actually comes through. SOMEBODY'S NERVOUS ABOUT THIS.]

So, uh. I know it probably doesn't help much, but. Um.

I'm sorry.

I'm not saying it makes up for anything 'cause it really doesn't, but. I really did like you and I'm sorry I ruined things.

[A pause, a deep breath, and he lets it out in a rush and nods.]

Yeah. That's it. Uh. Later, I guess. Or not. Whichever.

[And he kills the feed.]


[A/N: Richie is Affected, which in this case translates to a case of the sanes. Here be reason and rationality and less delusions! Also funny looks for those of you unaffected thinking he's supposed to be a nutcase.

General all-inclusive TW for the Claire conversation to be safe; who knows where that might end up.]

[PUBLIC -- video]

Why can't more shit that happens around here be like that? I mean, come on. Pirates, how is that not cool. I haven't had that much fun from the Admiral's shitty driving since Vegas. Just throw in Prohibition in Chicago and that's like...the trifecta.


[PRIVATE to Claire]

So that flood we had before was You were kind of

[Nothing sent.]

[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.]

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.]

[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.

[Text.  Or, more specifically, a series of them, spread a couple minutes apart]

SETH.

Cmon Seth this isn't funny. Where the fuck r u weve got a rendezvous 2 make.

At least I think we do.

What the fuck is this place anyway?  The service sucks the beds like a rock and there isn't even a TV.

What am I supposed to do in here stare at the ceiling for an hour?  This is bullshit.