notafuckingnut | Entries tagged with you know that's on right?

[A/N: Backdated to the day after the Quirks Flood ended.]

( Something's up with Jack, don't know if we're ever going to get him back... )

[PUBLIC - audio]

[It's an accident, the first time he flips the feed on, a coincidence of fingers and a need for something tangible, and while there's no image to accompany it, the voice is recognizable, although...uneasy, bordering on anxious.]

Just...stop.

[The feed cuts out as suddenly as it started.]

[PRIVATE to Castiel - audio]

Stop looking. I'm not doing anything.

[PRIVATE to Lua - audio]

You holding at all? I need...something.

...Stop the planet of the apes, I wanna get off.

[Accidental VIDEO]

[He turns the letter over and over in his hands, pausing now and then to read the outside, a single word written in an all-too-familiar hand, with a worried expression. Unsettled. He already knows what's inside, he's read it a dozen times by now, maybe more, practically has the damn thing committed to memory but he's no closer to deciding what it MEANS.

He was here. He was HERE. And Richie missed him.

He unfolds the page, scanning over the words inside.

Keep your head down. Do what the warden says; you don't have to LIKE him, but do what he says. It's a prison, not Spring fucking Break. And for god's sake stay away from the girls.

There's more, more of the same, plus some encouragements on top of it but it doesn't matter because there's nothing about why he left. Like it didn't happen, like he'd never been here at all, but he was. Richie's sure he was. Only...

Lua said it was okay to be mistaken sometimes. That it happened, that sometimes things weren't the way they looked the first time.

But he'd been here. He KNOWS he was.

He frowns at the paper, a headache building somewhere in the back of his skull with his growing uncertainty. Fingers curl in, crushing, crumpling it into a ball, into nothing, and he casts it away from him, sending it skittering off into who knows where before pulling his knees towards his chest, twitching fingers running through his hair absently, a soothing gesture, for as much good as it seems to do.

He doesn't want to be here anymore. He's finished. A shove at the nightstand, just enough to jostle it without knocking it over completely, and the communicator drops to the floor, killing the feed.]

[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.]

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

I been to some fucked up places in my time, but that place is fucked up.

Entries tagged with you know that's on right?

[031] Like a memory long gone past, here in an instant, gone in a flash

[028] wish I knew what you were looking for

[014] We'll be putting down our roots right in the center of the storm

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