013. voice

[blackfoxed]

[ Alright so someone finally woke up for longer than five minutes, and there's a lot of shifting and muffled cursing as he, of course, grabs immediately for the nearest painkiller aka bottle of Jack Daniels out of the fortress of empty ones. Glass clinks. Swearing in Italian. ]

Colonello. You stupid sonofabitch. How could you--

[ a sharp, pained intake of breath. and then so quiet it's hardly audible: ]

...how could you.

...

Spike, I have to go. Sorry for the mess on your doorstep.

Dr. Crescent-- if I could ask for another favor.

Comments

voice.

[disillude.livejournal.com]

What about me?

voice.

[blackfoxed.livejournal.com]

Oh, that's how it is.

You didn't ask me about the familiars. Got that all figured on your own?

voice.

[disillude.livejournal.com]

So I'm guessing cooking this thing up for supper probably isn't the best idea?

voice.

[blackfoxed.livejournal.com]

Not so much. They exist for a reason.

voice.

[disillude.livejournal.com]

Fair enough.

voice.

[blackfoxed.livejournal.com]

Would you like to know what is it, mister I-don't-answer-personal-questions-but-am-happy-to-ask-them?

voice.

[disillude.livejournal.com]

Oh, would it be too much trouble?

voice.

[blackfoxed.livejournal.com]

I suppose not.

They're a gift to the people who've been brought here, to better defend ourselves when the city starts going to hell again.