taxonomites | [ visual ] | [ location: casa lehane ] if wellness is this what in hell's name is sickness

Faith has been in Taxon for nearly a year, now. As the date creeps up, she's been withdrawing little by little; Connor's staying in her place, sure, but he can read the vibes and let her keep her space. Even the trips to see Godric and Eric have dropped off, because there's the upswing in maturity she's working with and talking about her shit. One is a work in progress, the other isn't her thing and never will be.

So when her tablet helpfully clicks over to visual, it films Faith's lower back for a moment, the sheets tangled around her legs. She hasn't been sleeping well lately, her dreams restless and weird. So when she rolls over and sees the ghost sitting on the side of her bed, she assumes it's more dreaming.

"Don't have time for this shit." Her mutter is audible but slurred, and she rolls over, exposing the edge of her underwear. "Sleeping."

It only takes a moment for her to wake up fully, though, Slayer instincts rocketing her into consciousness. "...Boss?" She almost sounds hopeful. No response, and her expression goes shattered, nakedly heartbroken before hardening again. "What, the First wasn't enough? Back the hell off me and take off his face."

When the ghost doesn't respond she scrambles out of bed, her movements uncharacteristically jerky and awkward. "I said get the hell out of my apartment." The beer bottle that crashes against the wall has no effect, the Mayor's placid expression doesn't change, his hand still reaches out to her. "Get the fuck out, now."

Another beer bottle, and her tablet shows her face growing panicked as the Mayor crawls closer, Faith scooting back as fast as she can to stay out of reach. "You're not him." It's quiet, desperate, to herself, and the feed closes on her slamming a fist into the ground hard enough her dresser rattles and repeating it, even more quiet and desperate. "You're not him."

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[ this is an extremely rare occasion, for angel is drunk. very drunk. he's been drinking with spike since he saw his little sister and if one listens closely enough, they'll hear the slosh of liquid from the bottle in his other hand that he's still holding. his speech is a bit slurred and more accented, as this far gone into the spell of alcohol means he's not caring about not speaking with the edge he taught himself to speak without. enjoy all that, faith. your vampire sponsor is a bit useless right now. ]

Ahh, but who does now-a-days? They don't care if we want to be seein' it, they show it to us anyway. May not be him, but it's the react-- ...the, uh, response! Yes. The response that matters.

'izzit Faith?

[Yeah, Angel's not drinking alone. Someone had to supply the liquor. Spike's there too, and just as drunk. There's a pause where Spike pretty much grabs Angel's tablet away from him.]

Hullo, Faith! Did you see one too? Who'd you see?

See Faith. See Faith pause in her sheer horror to register that she's getting troll-rolled by two drunkass fucking vamps.

...Then Wilkins moves again, and the horror takes over. "The Mayor." That's all she's giving them, thanks.

Hey now, Willy. You've got'cher own somewhere. Give it back.

[ angel attempts to get it back and apparently forgets that standing requires putting one's feet on the ground instead of just sliding off the edge of the table and there's the FOMP-like sound of a heavy vampire hitting the ground. but not to worry! the tequila is okay and that's what's important, clearly. ]

[Spike kicks Angel in the ribs, though it's less a kick so much as him swinging his leg in Angel's general direction without actually getting off the table. Serves him right for calling him Willy. Spike snickers.]

Angel can't come to the phone right now. He's a wee bit hammered. You getting into politics, love?

[He wasn't in Sunnydale much that year, he doesn't make the connection.]

"Great. You're both freaking hammered." Not looking at the bed, not looking at the bed, not looking at the bed. "And nah, I was more the muscle behind the throne. Look, you want something?"

[ from the floor, angel calls out: ] An raibh a fhios agat nach raibh rud ar bith a dhíol.

[ ...spike, you might want to let him know he failed with the english again. he doesnt' seem to notice. ]

[Spike kicks him again.] No one can understand you when you speak Irish.

[ visual ] | [ location: casa lehane ] if wellness is this what in hell's name is sickness

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[ visual ] ...fail lj I REPLIED TO THIS

[ voice ] /kicks lj!

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