realityshifted | (no subject)

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primal (d1) isaiah kennedy

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[A scrawny Isaiah strolls casually into existence on the plane, a huge Taco Bell cup in one hand from which he is sipping pensively and a bag in the other hand to match. He’s nicely dressed, fashionable, and he’s wearing a rasta hat. He’s so put together, it looks a little ridiculous, but he also manages to pull it off somehow.

A split second after he appears on the plane, he stops dead in his tracks. He stops sipping. His eyes, though they look wide already, get wider. He makes a weird noise in his throat, his posture slips. Then the guy is retching, his food dropped, his drink rolling and sloshing out, and he’s on his knees, retching something fierce on to the starry ground, shaking, white, and finally he just throws up.

The act seems to pull him together a little. He continues shaking, but he wipes his mouth with the back of a hand, staring around. He stands unsteadily, looking around and looking frightened out of his wits.]

Fuck.

[Even though he’s obviously distressed, his voice is still personable, and he smiles weakly, looking around as if trying to find something to talk to before he settles on looking up.]

Uhh, so. Nice... Nice weather today. Rainy.

[His expression cracks a little; softly]

Shit.

[normal volume]

Hey, man this is, it’s nothing personal, right. But I get it. [he raises his hands in a "don’t worry" way.] I completely get it. You’re a scary fu—you’re real impressive. Really. I’m just wondering, you know, maybe, maybe if I talk, I can get out of here.

[Another weak smile, a hopeful expression.]
Please?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No, it won't. So shut the hell up.

[He jumps. Majorly.]

What the fuck.

[he looks around, bewildered, before looking back.]

Hey, uh, what.

I know I shouldn't expect so much of some druggie, but I'll humor you. How about you form a proper question, and I might answer it?

Woa woa woa, druggie? Who are you, my crack-addict dad come back all reformed and anti-high?

Pssh, no. Vicodin is what the cool kids take now.

Vicowhat?

[he pauses and shoots an anguished face at the 'sky']

Please, no psych torture, come on.

Too bad. That's my specialty.

(no subject)

weerweer.livejournal.com - 2009-05-03 18:10 (UTC) - Expand

[GR is a little ways off, counting today's earnings.]

Who do you think you're talking to?

[UHHHHHHH

SHADY

CHARACTER

WHAT]

Jesus Christ.

[Isaiah jumped about ten feet in the air. What is this. He stares suspiciously at GR.]

What, like you... don't know?

No. [His tone of voice clearly adds a 'why would I' to the end of that.] Which part of this screams 'mindreader?'

[He looks slowly around, makes a face, and looks back at Graverobber.]

Was... was that a joke? Really? I don't even make such shitty jokes.

Again, no.

Okay, anyway, what... what are you? Are you some manifestation of my psyche or whatever? Isn't this my private holding cell?

(no subject)

quickcleanpure.livejournal.com - 2009-05-04 03:59 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

weerweer.livejournal.com - 2009-05-04 19:59 (UTC) - Expand

Was that display really necessary?

[Another jump, but this time Isaiah reacts more.]

Display of what, bitch lady?

[you did not]

Beyond that rather disgusting mess you've made? Your appalling manners, I suppose.

[oh yes he did]

Sorry I'm not allowed to throw up when I find myself standing in a floating abyss of space.

[that bastard]

Considering there are children here who reacted far better, yes, I rather think you should apologise.

You know what, fuck you lady. Go harass some starving kids in Africa or something, seriously, get outta here.

[I can hurt you, y'know.]

[Obligatory jump followed by a dazed cow expression. S-s-spandex...]

Oh my god, are you here to rape me?

Wow. That's a winning first impression.

[He takes a step back, his hands out front in a 'begone evil' pose.]

Seriously, I'll talk.

I'll do the talking here, bub. Trust me.

[He looks distressed.]

Right, okay. So, uhh, go.