Post-It: ETD 00:03am [Video]

[maced_eggs]

I don't understand the death toll.

No, I do, I mean. I know how it works. You die, Admiral brings you back, you're up and bouncing again in a week's time.

But I mean.

Who's taking your soul out before you go? Are people's souls staying in their bodies through their deaths? That's why it hurts so much to come back?

That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard in my life.

Someone give me back my powers and my fuckin' Post-its. Or a drink. Or all three. I want to take souls again, I've changed my mind. This place is awful.


[Spam for Dark Heart]

[By some small miracle, Mason's managed to find his room again, nestled safely on the fourth floor between Gary and Dean. He remembers it only when he's able to find one of the two on the ship and them follow them back to their rooms.

Here, he's fast asleep after a long and trying week, his muscles twinging and aching. He's under his smelly, stained comforter in a terrible Murphy bed with springs popped up all through the mattress, clothes spread everywhere. Home sweet home]

Comments

[outofclothes]

I don't know. You ask me? God fucked off a long time ago. So whether that means he needs to die or not isn't really my call.

[maced_eggs]

This is all getting much, much larger than what I know how to deal with.


So I will not deal with it and I will say I have never met an angel yet and if I see one, I shall be sure to tell him I think he's a cocksucker.

[outofclothes]

[Stark grins crookedly. He might just have to give this guy a drink.]

Just watch out for the flamey sharp parts that might come next after that.

[maced_eggs]

I don't think I like flamey sharp parts and I will endeavor to avoid them.

Which would be a lot easier if they'd let me keep my powers here.

[outofclothes]

If you get lucky, you'll get a warden who will see it that way. Gotta say though, some of them are real damn paranoid about letting you have your powers back depending on what you can do.

[maced_eggs]

I can rip souls out of bodies.

An', y'know. Not dying, rapid self-healing. I'm like fuckin' Wolverine. Only without the shing, claws.

Also I can't ever have hangovers.

[outofclothes]

Well, you got me beat.

[...Stark. Where are your priorities?]

[maced_eggs]

Yeah? What are your monster-hunting powers like, then?

[outofclothes]

Hoodoo comes pretty easy to me whether it's Earth, Hellion, or Enochian and I've got my own flaming sword. I also didn't get this pretty because I heal slow.

But can't avoid hangovers.

[...Priorities.]

[maced_eggs]

Ooh. I should like to see a flaming sword. Do you have to dip it in gasoline before you light it?

[outofclothes]

It's more of a metaphysical thing.

[maced_eggs]

So isslike a figure of speech.

[outofclothes]

No, it's kinda a literal thing.

[His chest would like to agree with this. That sucked.]

It's like a sword actually made out of fire. But solid and not going to burn the shit out of me.

[maced_eggs]

I don't think that's what metaphysical means.

[Mason has confused the word with metaphorical]

So you're immune to fire, then? Thas' handy.

[outofclothes]

No, just to my own fire.

[Would have helped when he was stopping the zombie apocalypse though if he was.]

[maced_eggs]

Your rules are very picky and precise, Stark.

[outofclothes]

I don't write 'em. I'm just stuck following them.

[maced_eggs]

Isn't that the truth.

Did they let you keep your flamey sword here?

[outofclothes]

Not at first. I didn't have shit when I first got here. No weapons, no powers. I didn't even know I had a gladius in the first place.

But Vin, my warden, gave most of it back.

[maced_eggs]

Whassa gladius?

[outofclothes]

That's the official name for the flaming sword. [Keep up.] It makes me feel pretty.

[maced_eggs]

It does sound a bit frilly, come to think of it.