bitteraftertaste | fourteen ♥ spam/video

Entry tags:

fourteen ♥ spam/video

[Spam for Bond, backdated to the start of the flood]

[The unfortunate part of floods like these when you're in a relationship with someone on the Barge is that you're very likely to wake up next to someone you've never seen before, and have no idea who they are and how you got there.

This is generally made even more horrifying when you're a very unhappy teenager on the best of days, and waking up with an unfamiliar teenage boy spooning you is definitely a good way to ignite all sorts of latent intimacy and commitment issues that only vaguely have to do with the extremely unlikely chance that she lost control of herself long enough to wind up in this sort of situation. That kind of thing definitely does not happen to Vesper Lynd.

Fortunately (?) Vesper is still asleep for the time being, and blissfully unaware that anything's amiss. Of course, that really means it's just a matter of time before the shit hits the fan and she realizes what the hell is actually going on here.]

[Public]

[Vesper addresses the Barge a little while later, once she's had more opportunity to encounter her ex-roommate James' behavior. She looks like she's about fifteen, but she sits so her back is ramrod straight, her shoulders squared and head held high, making it more or less unmistakeable that this girl is confident and self assured and not in the mood to take anyone's bullshit, even if they're an adult and she is - technically - a child.

Really, this is just a carefully constructed mask, but no one needs to know that. Obviously.]

Is there anyone whose supposed to be assuming responsibility for James Bond? [This is being said in a way that suggests she thinks you are doing a terrible job of it, whoever you are.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She scowls immediately, and smacks him with a pillow, hard.] Pervert. Put a shirt on, for god's sake.

[He throws up his arm to protect himself, grabs and tries to yank it away from her.]

How am I a pervert? You were laying right next to me, you know!

[She is very stubbornly refusing to let it go, although maintaining a hold on that and the blanket is proving to be difficult.] I did not ask to be here, thank you very much. I'm not the sort of person who enjoys waking up next to perfect strangers.

Edited 2013-08-10 17:38 (UTC)

Neither did I! And I'm not the sort of person who enjoys waking up next to frigid virgins. [So there, huff. He lets the pillow go, half hoping she'll knock herself in the face with it.]

[It does, and she lets out a frustrated huff when she drop it, still scowling at him.] Is that supposed to be an insult?

[And he just grins like the little shit he is.]

Just a fact.

[And he's getting out of bed before she can smack him again, and stretching, look at him, no shirt, doesn't he look good. But he will start rummaging about for clothes.]

Hey - you know what this place is, right? [Because it strikes him quite suddenly that he knows - the Barge, wardens, inmates, all that shit - though he's not sure how.]

[She pointedly does not look at him, but does glance up when he asks, because she actually sort of feels like she does. And she has a horrible sinking feeling that says she's here because of him, and she doesn't know how to feel about that. She wraps the blanket a little tighter around herself and frowns at him, trying to mask the sudden worry.]

I don't know, I think I might. [It's called the Barge. She doesn't know how she knows that.]

The Barge. Right? [He goes to the closet, opens it up and makes a face when he sees mostly suits. No thank you. But when he turns, he sees some clothes on a chair, and goes to investigate. It's all neatly folded, but they're girl's things. So he tosses them to her on the bed.]

Think these are yours.

[And on another chair, things for him. At least he's tugging on a shirt.]

I think so. [Strange, that they both know it.

She doesn't move to take them for a long moment - she's not even sure they're going to fit her - but she does eventually put down the blanket and reach for the shirt and trousers. They look neat and something she thinks she might have purchased, but she's certainly not going to change out of her nightgown until this boy - James - is out of sight. Probably on the other side of a securely locked door.] Why are our clothes in the same room?

Edited 2013-08-10 22:42 (UTC)

[James, on the other hand, is pretty unconcerned. He just checks to make sure he's wearing boxers before tugging off sleep pants and pulling on jeans, utterly unashamed and more than a little okay with her looking, anyway. She's hot; a complete bitch, but she's gorgeous.

He shrugs when he's dressed, and turns to fake her.]

Dunno. [He hears his accent now, and clears his throat like he can clear it away. It works.] Maybe they're short on rooms around here.

Maybe. [She doesn't sound sure, or entirely convinced, but she's really just feeling confused and overwhelmed and sort of nervous, and all that is making her even more tight lipped and irritable than usual.

After another long moment of hesitation, she gets up, gathering the clothes and hugging them protectively to her chest. It makes her look nervous, except for the fact that her expression and posture are serious and potentially even almost aggressive.]

I'm going to find some where to change. If you come look, I'll scream loud enough the whole ship will hear.

[He just laughs at that, shaking his head.]

Please, do I look like I need to resort to peeping? I think there's a bathroom through there. [He gestures toward it, but he's already turning out to what looks like a wet bar.]

[Vesper eyes him warily a moment longer, but she does go to explore the other room and finds the bathroom. She comes out a few minutes later, and while the clothes don't fit her properly, she still looks very much like she does as an adult. Her hair is pulled back from her face in a neat bun, and she's got her button down shirt tied to help for her figure better, and she thinks she does look pretty put together, all things considered.

She gives James an incredulous look when she returns, even though he's likely to give her one in return, considering she's holding a very content looking black and white cat in her arms.]

What are you doing?

[He only notices she's back when she speaks, because he's found what looks like a really old bottle of Scotch, and he's standing up with it, unscrewing the cap.

And definitely giving her a look.]

Where'd you get a cat?

He was in the other room. [And it's probably pathetic, how she already feels better just from holding a cat. She does miss Ursula though.]

You're not seriously planning on drinking that are you?

[He continues to look at her like she's really crazy, but he shrugs, and turns to grab a rocks glass from the bar. Yeah, he's pouring a finger.]

Why not? It's here.

Because you're going to make yourself sick. [Obviously.]

[He snorts, and fuck you Vesper, he is downing that shot.

And it totally burns but he is swallowing and not making a face.]

[She rolls her eyes and keeps petting the cat, who looks perfectly happy with his new old friend.]

It's your funeral.

Please, drinking doesn't kill you.

It can.

Emphasis on can. Do I look dead to you?

Not yet.

Yeah, well don't hold your breath. [He's not taking another drink, though - he wants to explore. Running his hands through his hair and straightening his shirt, he looks to the door.]

I'm gonna go look around. No need freak and call me a pervert again, all right?

[She's not exactly sorry to see him go, which is probably obnoxious of her, but she can't bring herself to care too much.]

Just stay out of my bed. There's one in the room next door, and I'll be more than happy to take it if it means not having to wake up next to a stranger again.

fourteen ♥ spam/video

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

[spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]