realityshifted | (no subject)

[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

[Isaiah's aggressive fades to a rather enormous grin.]

Wow. That was a pretty long pause there, cowboy.

Sorry, I had to retrieve my mind from the depths of Hell to escape the mental image.

Yeah, sure, supergay.

Hey, you were the one commenting on my junk.

You're the one showing everyone your junk in spandex.

Ladies love it, bub.

[Wide eyed and incredulous look around.]

Like a hole in the head, Hard Gay.

[Pulls out a gun and puts it to Izzy's head]

I can arrange that.

[Isaiah only freezes for a split second.]

I'm not a lady, Red.

I'm no sexist.

[He pulls an exaggerated moue.]

It was a word joke.

Funny. I'm not laughing.

This reminds me of another little thing about this place.

If you die, the Twins will bring you back to life.

[He titters a little nervously, partially because bringing back to life sounds a lot like a Certain Someone.]

So you do work for The Man.

If The Man pays me right.

... Piss.

Right now? I'm kinda busy.

[The rat-- or magpie, as he would say-- in Isaiah realizes this a little hole to wriggle through.]

How do you pee in that thing anyway? Seriously, looks difficult.

...Well, I'm not gonna lie, it presents a challenge.

Maybe you should just get, you know, a zipper sewn on. Like normal pants.

Well I'm not a tailor and a good one is hard to come by. What do you think I designed this costume?

...What were we talking about?

[hu hu hu]

Hire one, man.

What the fuck this weird ass place is, that's what.

Meh, I don't care enough.

Uh-huh... why am I holding a gun to your head?

[ohgodTHINKFAST]

Well, you know, I've never seen one up close before, guess you took that a bit far, can't see it properly right now.

...What's your name?

[Isaiah is thinking he is SO GOOD right now.]

Isaiah.

(no subject)

mercwamouth - 2009-05-03 19:53 (UTC) - Expand

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