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[PUBLIC -- video]

[Two hours into port and Richie's already starting to get a headache. He's inside at least, wandered the halls until he started to feel like somebody was watching him and then he tried to find his way back to his room but he missed the floor and ended up all turned around.

Nothing supernatural. Just on-edge.

From there it was a disappointing once-over some of the rest of the place, mostly the bigger spaces, then back up to his room. The right one this time. And now he's set up at the table in his half, slumped down and taking up most of the space with gangly limbs, staring at the screen morosely.]

Anybody know if they've got a foosball table here? I couldn't find one.

[He raises one hand to rub at his temple, frowning briefly and staring off into nothing, but comes back after a moment and adjusts his glasses before returning his attention to the public at large.]

And it's fucking freezing. Did we hafta end up in a place where it's actually snowing?

[Backdated to we shall say YESTERDAY.

Consequently, the Richie who shows up on the network looks about semi-miserable. Not intolerably so, but certainly like he hasn't been sleeping. Stressed out.]

Okay I take it back. Feel free to complain.

Just...not so loud or I'm gonna have to come over there and bash your brains in or something.

I don't even get why this is happening. I didn't do anything, I didn't say anything to anybody, there's just no...

[Ehhhh and now it's worse. He pulls his glasses off and shoves his palms into the space they vacated, as if pressing them into his eye sockets will actually help in any way.

Surprise. It doesn't.]

This is bullshit. Can it just be over already?

[Backdated to not long after Jesse's triumphant return.]

[PRIVATE to Castiel]

What the fuck, man. I thought we had an okay thing going.

[Cue overreaction time.]

[PRIVATE to Seth]

This new warden kid?

I don't know if you talked to him before he graduated, but he's a fucking ass. Just so you know.

[A few days after the conclusion of Better Living Through Chemistry.

The Richie that greets the Barge at large today is noticeably more subdued than usual. He blinks at the camera once, then twice, eyes tracking across the screen, across the room, distracted by...something, or so it seems; more accurately it's the lack of somethings, as if he's actually trying to physically find them, but that's neither here nor there.]

So...I guess there could've been worse things. At least the other me was kinda cool? Knew how to party. And shit.

Better than that dream shit, anyway. That was just fucking...weird.

[PRIVATE to Dracula]

...You didn't have to do that.

[PRIVATE to Claire]

[A couple false starts, but he kills the feed before actually sending anything; he can't get the words together so they actually mean anything.]

[VIDEO - (accidental) public]

[He doesn't want to be here.

That's obvious enough to anyone, receiver or no. He said yes to get the angel off his case, to make him go away, and he's here so he won't come looking for him, but that doesn't mean he wants this. He doesn't understand why he needs to, what he could possibly get out of it, and so what if he said it would be Good for him, that it would Help; he doesn't care if he graduates. Not really, not right now anyway. Not if you can leave without it, not if people that are supposed to matter don't stick around. He's defeated, and miserable, and apathetic, and abandoned, and PISSED, all roiling together in an incomprehensible and disjointed mess, the whole thing colored with a sense of wrongness that creeps at the edges of awareness and slips away just out of reach under closer scrutiny, and he feels like he's going to split apart at the seams but he can't articulate WHY.]

Why do you need to work in a greenhouse anyway, doesn't it all just grow? It's not like you need to help it with that, it can do it on its own.

[SPAM for Castiel]

[Knock knock on the greenhouse door; you're going to have to let him in.]

[A/N: Richie is completely affected because pshh sticking to the original plan, what's that? GIVE HIM YOUR FEELS.]

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Profile

Richie Gecko

It's a Dark Night

hot air hangs like a dead man
from a white oak tree
people sitting on porches
thinking how things used to be
dark night
dark night

the neighborhood was changing
strangers moving in
a new boy fell for a local girl
when she made eyes at him

she was young and pretty
no stranger to other men
but doors were being locked at night
old lines were drawn again

I thought things like that
didn't matter anymore
I thought all the blood
had been shed long ago

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