maced_eggs | Post-It: ETD 00:14am [Video]

Post-It: ETD 00:14am [Video]

[Down on level 4, Mason seems to have been in the process of cleaning up his horrible, horrible room. You can see the floor now! Where he sits, crosslegged, an infant brown bunny in his lap. He's feeding it lettuce, fond and preening.

On the door is tacked the sign Yard Sale.]

So I figure there are two things I need to do.

I am thinking that if I give away all of my things that Gwenny says I can't have any longer, I can earn my bloody stickers, get my powers back, an' give a home for Johnny Ramone.

So let's see what we've got...

[Mason pans his camera to the collection of booze, bongs, prescription pills, and general illicit or controlled substances he's managed to collect over his months on the Barge]

Seeing as how there is lit'rally no money on this boat, I will accept payment in the form of either rabbit things or stickers.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ain't much point to a pet when you got to focus on keepin' yourself alive, first.

Oh, I wouldn't die. I would just get very, very hungry.

Reapers can't die. But we still have to eat.

Huh, how about that. So you can go without food indefinitely, if y'all don't mind the hunger?

If we don't mind wasting away to practically nothing, yeah. Never tried it very long. I like eating.

Can't say that sounds like a pleasant experience. Can't say I blame you.

Comes in handy when you get too close to what's killing your assignment. Other'n that it's a pain in the arse.

Ah well, the things we live for, for eternal life...death.

No one gave me a choice in it. Fuck eternal undeath.

Well, that just ain't fair at all. You should at least have a choice, concernin' matters like that.

Afraid not. It's winning the worst lottery of all.

An eternity of servitude, can't say I envy you.

Not an eternity.

But near about.

Close enough, when it comes down to brass tracks, huh?

Generally.

Don't have to reap any longer, so that's something nice.

Do people even die here at all, on the Barge?

Not properly.

See, in a perfect world, I'd be along - or one of my fellow reapers - to pop your soul out of your body before you go. Or at the very least, right after.

Here, the soul stays trapped as the body repairs itself over time. It's bloody painful, an' stupid to have it done that way.

[WELL, THAT SURE IS A THING.]

That...don't sound pleasant. At all.

It's not. An' no one will bloody listen to me when I tell 'em I can fix it.

They don't? Not all too keen on their best interests, I take it.

They don't trust me with my powers. I've been using them forty bloody years and they don't trust me with them.

And I bet you've proved yourself plenty, too, that you won't abuse them.

[This is not good news, if he ever wants to get his own powers back in full.]

I didn't fuckin' abuse them when I had them!

..Right, maybe I was late to a job once or twice, but no one can always be punctual!

Exactly. Ain't no call for them to keep them away from you now.

Right.

But here I am.

Powerless.

Seems someone has really got it out for people like you and me.