fatespoken | ∞ [ audio ]

I've been over this before.

We didn't really celebrate Christmas. Decorations were superficial, for the sake of my mom's fancy. Dad considered it a vestigial gesture to some winter festival like Saturnalia or Brumalia. The point of the holidays, for me, was getting whatever I wanted. Why? Because I was a spoiled brat. And when you've got centuries worth of junk rotting in your vaults, fulfilling a kid's whims is the easiest way to say you've done something.

Then I grew up and figured out you don't always get what you fucking want. Commodity doesn't really amount to much when what you need is something immaterial.

This Christmas, I'm only asking for something simple. To the displeasure of the asshole who shot me twice in the legs, I'd like to walk out of here by myself soon.

I'm checking out Friday.

Meanwhile, please keep that Greek nurse out of here. You know, the one with the atrocious face and the turkey waddle? I don't want to risk kissing her. If this place isn't enough of a shithole.

[ooc: ... Backdated to yesterday! Um. If you have a reason to be around him, you can kiss him, but otherwise he has luckily found a haven. 8D]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It could be worse. You could be in jail or something.

[If her voice sounds like it's coming from two places at once., well she might be heading down his hallway.]

Honestly, it's close enough to jail. Prison guards instead of doctors, interchangeable.

[ A visit from Claire? He'd much prefer the coal. ]

[Well, today he is getting a balloon. Admittedly that might be worse than coal, but Claire doesn't mind much as she rounds the door. Lingers in the door, because coming too close to Amory on a day like today is just asking for trouble.]

Pretty sure prison guards don't tell you to 'get well.'

[ Amory's gotten more visitors than expected, evidence now lost to withered flowers, but Claire's still the last person he expects to see. As she lingers, he sits in the bed completely unaware, splitting his attention between the book in hands and his communicator. ]

It's a different kind of torture.

[Someone did suggest that she stop in and annoy him. It's just taken her this long to get around to doing it. She flips her device off and pockets it, knocking and letting herself in, though she keeps her eyes on the ceiling more or less the entire time and keeps a healthy distance, too.]

I brought you a new kind of torture. Happy Holidays.

[ There's a distinct eyebrow raised at this new... annoyance, though he hardly bothers to look up from his perusal of the network. This was unexpected, though he certainly doesn't show it. ]

A balloon? Did you poison the helium?

[Claire takes the coast for clear and steps further into the room, pulling the balloon down by the string to look at it. There is a giant, yellow smiley face splashed across the front.]

And leave that obvious of a clue behind as to who murdered you in your bed? Please. [She stops near the foot of said bed.] People are supposed to be nice to you when you're sick, so here I am.

What you're supposed to be, isn't what you have to be. I'm not expecting anything from you. [ How yellow and cheery, and in complete contrast with her expression. He stares at it for a second, before switching his gaze over to Claire. ] We're not friends, Claire. Co-workers, but what does that mean?

Well, you weren't a total dick that time the bar was overrun, when you told me about the extra cups.

[She tugs the balloon down so that she can hold it against her chest, hands on either side.]

It's a balloon, Amory, don't read too much into it.

I was doing my job, the best I could from a hospital bed. [ Work and life are dichotomies for Amory Felix. The former more important at times. ] You don't like me, Claire. You could ignore me, speak to me only as necessary. But you chose not to. Why? [ He glances at her, lifting an eyebrow. ] Is there something you want from me?

∞ [ audio ]

audio ][

audio ][

audio ][

audio ][

audio ][

audio ][

audio ][

audio ][

audio ][

audio ][