† RYSLIG- IC INBOX †

[goodolfashionedvillain]

 

 

 

 

INBOX text | audio | action & overflow

 

 

 

 

code by transilience

Comments

[humblecowboy]

Stop— buying shit-ass cigarettes, then!

[look. they're both grumpy. And what do they do when they're grumpy?

they take it out of each other.]

And would you— cut that shit out? Use a door.

[goodolfashionedvillain]

You literally loved them yesterday, I don't want to hear it.

[He grumbles and floats, pointedly, towards the window to peer out and check where they've ended up. It would be easy to float down and grab them, and honestly he's going to, just to make a point.

He turns his back to the window with a smirk and holds up a hand-- a hand that is flipping Spike off. Enthusiastically-- as he floats backwards through the window and disappears. He's going to get his cigarettes, damn it.

It takes about half a minute, but he returns, tossing the pack through the window with the intent to bean his partner square in the face.]

Now, why would I do that, when I could do this?

[humblecowboy]

[He did literally love them yesterday, and that's the whole problem! Why do they suddenly taste like crap?

...That said, once he sees Vicious's stupid face, he squares his jaw as his ghastly friend disappears.

...And then ducks when he reappears. It misses him narrowly.]

—Seriously?

[He reaches for them again immediately to throw back at Vicious, not... initially recalling that it will probably just sail through the shade.]

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[He's at least tangible enough to catch them. God, he's such a brat.]

No, seriously? I'll make you eat them.

[humblecowboy]

You eat 'em. You're the one who likes them so much.

[Spike takes his grouchy saunter to the couch, where he flops down in a fit of botherment.]

We need to get more drugs.

[And before Vicious can say anything—]

I need to get more drugs.