InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "My heart will NOT go on."

green_empathy (green_empathy) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2009-11-16 00:36:00

Entry tags:

lorne

WHO: Lorne and Spike [yay lack of surnames!]
WHERE: The apartments, it's kitchen
WHEN: Backdated to earlier in the week (cause I suck). Let's say Wednesday.
WHAT: It's Lorne and Spike. I don't think words have been invented yet to describe
Rating: TBD, But it is Spike. And I should probably put up a rating for Lorne contemplating getting people drunk.
STATUS: closed; incomplete

Lorne putted around the kitchen. A splash here. A lick there. Swish it around. Shake, shake, shake, and he was making himself a drink. And enough for anyone else who might want one. They were going to need it. With all the crazy that was going on around, a strong drink was one of the first remedies that Lorne could think of. He knew some others, but sometime a nice cocktail, or something sweet and fruity just did the soul a world of good.

Then again, that might just be him. Since he couldn't get drunk. However, he felt that a little drunken sleep and the following hangover tended to do humans-and a lot of demons-a world of good. So long as they didn't make it of it. Something about the blinding pain in the glaring, unforgiving sunlight, putting things into perspective. Or so he'd been told.

Not that he thought, for the most part, any of them needed perspective. At least not so far of what he'd seen of Martha and Romana. They seemed to have this entire rodeo running well, despite their initial fear. So did that Doctor fellow. Though Lorne had this distinct feeling that would be one person he didn't want to ask to sing. Ever.

Though there had been some of the others he'd seen milling through the apartments, mindful of the fact that they wouldn't be used to a big green demon in an orange suit, that could use a little loosening up. A nice little hang-over. Lorne wondered if angels or big dumb aliens from Krypton could even get drunk.

He would have to ask around. Dropping an olive into his drink, Lorne gave the kitchen one last sweeping glance. Neater than when he'd arrived.

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blondie_bear
2009-11-22 10:18 am UTC (link)

Spike didn't like it here. There was too much fear and worry, not enough action and pornography. What was this place - a shelter? A holding zone? Italy? A stupid building, filled with stupid people with nothing to do but be stupid at each other. Quite the ideal party. Grumbling incoherently under his breath, Spike made his rounds through the building. He had little to do with himself aside from furnish his own apartment - which wasn't hard. Spike stole all the stuff he needed. Now it was merely keeping himself entertained without having to resort to running outside, setting himself on fire underneath the afternoon sun, and then rolling around to stifle them.

The kitchen area seemed like a good place to start. Spike could get a better bearing of the place, harass a few people, even. It was better than contemplating how to make himself burn in the most painful way possible.

Really, he was a pleasant man.

He'd been about to pop into the kitchen when a demon stepped out. Not a demon. Lorne. Who was a demon, but not the sort of demon that people were used to around there. Smirking faintly, he leaned against the wall in the hallway and tried not to look too amused at the concept of both of them being trapped here without Angel. It was like AI gone to hell. Or maybe with benefits. "Off to find Dorothy, are you?"

[ooc: I am lame and forgot about tagging here. PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. D:]

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