21 April 2012 @ 10:53 pm
02 //  
[action; 750 Partridge Drive; locked to people … who live there or show up there for some reason.]

[Guess who was a dumb bitch, touched the blue flowers, and is now a mermaid. His mental condition was already delicate at best both before and since arriving at Mayfield, but now he's just straight up flipping his shit because he obviously must be hallucinating or having some kind of psychotic episode. At least it was only in his front yard so he didn't have to go that far to drag himself back into the house, then into the master bath. Where he can hyperventilate and cry in private. Until Buffy comes home or something.]


[After listening into a few different messages, he reaches the conclusion that he's not going crazy as much as he thought. Although people sound bothered, none of them sound seriously bothered like he is, which leaves him immensely weirded out.]

Is this supposed to be one of those catastrophes? Or is there some epidemic going around, or …
11 April 2012 @ 07:42 pm
001 // phone + action  
[ following this log: ]


[ phone ]
Giles? Hello? [ This thing … did pick up, right? Oh, it must be the machine. ] Look, I know you’re all … life of leisure guy lately and all, and that’s great, really, you connect to your inner Kerouac. [ A beat. An exhale. ] But, I need you. Really need you. As in … not really sure what went on last night and need some … bronze-y Adonis-shaped gaps filled in. [ Cue shifty look at Finnick, then she hangs up the phone, sliding it back on the counter. ]

[ action, 750 PARTRIDGE DR ]
He wasn't there? [Look, Finnick may be in the middle of a difficult time in his life but he still knows what an answering machine message sounds like. He also appreciates the compliments about his beautiful body. :') Or would if he understood the significance of them. ANYWAY.]

Looks like it's up to us to save ourselves, in that case.

[And thus, he goes to the front door and walks out onto the front yard to investigate. It's worth noting that he did not stop to get dressed at any point between waking up and this moment, so he's still in his underwear. (They are boxers. ftr.) ]

[ MEANWHILE, BUFFY GOES CLAMBERING OUT THE FRONT DOOR AFTER HIM BECAUSE OH GOD UNDERWEAR -- at least she’s in her pajama pants and camisole. She has some sense of common decency, unlike her new roommate. Husband. Roommate. Whatever the fuck he is. ] Hey, guy, you can’t just -- [ O h. She looks up and down the street, coming to a slow halt on the front lawn. Which is manicured. As is every one up and down the street. ] Uhh …