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

[maced_eggs]

Can't you beg it off your friends, then? There's lots of ways to get free beer in the world.

[this_corrosion]

[For some reason this makes Gary giggle.]

Yeah, I'll get on it.

[maced_eggs]

Good.

An' save me some.

[this_corrosion]

Nah, get your own.

[maced_eggs]

You're a cruel, heartless bastard, Gar-Bear.

[this_corrosion]

It's like on planes. Got to get your own oxygen on first before helping anyone else.

[maced_eggs]

I hate planes. Always make me nervous flying in them.

[this_corrosion]

Thought you were the grim reaper or something.

[maced_eggs]

Doesn't mean I'm not bloody scared of plane crashes, does it? Rocketing around up in the air in a little pressurized metal tube does not do well for the digestion.

[this_corrosion]

If the plane was going to crash, wouldn't you know? Because everyone would be set up to die.

[maced_eggs]

Maybe it's not. Maybe it's only some of them.

[this_corrosion]

It's a plane crash! A bunch of them, at least, and wouldn't you see that?

[maced_eggs]

Sometimes. Not always. Look, Gar', it's not an exact science, is it? Last time I got put on a plane, it was because some bloke had a heart attack in the bathroom 30,000 feet up.

[this_corrosion]

[This sets him to giggling again.]

Well, that's a way to go isn't it?

[maced_eggs]

Did you jus' make a pun, Gary? Some poor man died in a shitting airplane bathroom and you're making jokes?

[He strains to look serious, and manages to keep it together for all of twenty seconds. Then, he bursts into giggles]

[this_corrosion]

Yeah, you laughed. That means you're as bad as me.

[maced_eggs]

Actually, I did laugh at the time it was going on. Mainly because I was so fuckin' relieved I wasn't about to be in a plane crash.

[this_corrosion]

So what happens if you crash your plane but you're already dead from putting a drill in your skull?

[maced_eggs]

Your body gets wrecked and you've got to go through the trouble of pulling yourself back together.

And it bloody stings!

[this_corrosion]

What, you can just. Stick your arms back on or something?

[Like a blank.]

[maced_eggs]

More're less. Yeah.

[this_corrosion]

Do you heal it up after? Or is it just you've got seams all over like a mannequin?

[maced_eggs]

Nah. It heals completely, just like new.

[Which is a good thing, given Mason's propensity for getting himself into serious physical issues]

[this_corrosion]

Have you still got a hole in your head or did it mend up?

[maced_eggs]

Mended right up. Actually, I never had it to begin with; soul was popped out of my body before it happened. Never felt a thing.