015: ... As a Bird on a Big TV [Accidental Visual / Location: Wolfram and Hart]

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

As Spike had shown her a few days ago, Angel's office - as quiet and neglected as it was in Taxon - had a telly. The forest didn't. Oh, the forest was beautiful, yes, but it didn't have a telly.

Miss Edith had been missing the telly.

Drusilla sat on the floor of the office with her legs crossed and her doll in her lap, watching the screen with unblinking eyes. At first, it hadn't seemed as if there was much on. There never was, in Taxon. But then she'd found something wonderful. Not just because of the pretty colours, although they were terribly pretty, but because the strange, discordant voices that floated from the screen spoke to her. Really spoke to her.

They were quite mad, those little monsters. If only they'd been able to hear her replies!

As a new episode began, Drusilla - who had already watched half a dozen, drinking the odd images in like warm milk - hummed along to the theme tune. (So did Miss Edith, even if the tablet - watching Drusilla watching Floop - couldn't pick up her tiny - tiny, but sweet as sugar - little voice.)

OOC: Again, backdated to a few days before the end of Glitch's glitch. This is all Keri's fault and I've finished spamming the community now, I swear.

Comments

[Visual]

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

Drusilla, on the other hand, didn't like to think about what had happened in the cool corridors of Wolfram and Hart in the past. It made her miss Angelus. (As wonderful as it was to spend time with the Angel Beast, it wasn't the same. He wasn't the same.)

"They're from his dreams," she said, gesturing at the screen. She hadn't expected to meet someone who dreamed like she did. In loops and swirls and mysteries.

[Visual]

[undoing.livejournal.com]

He wasn't the same, because he didn't allow himself to be. The urge to do things associated with his soulless self were still there, those dark thoughts still being entertained in his head, but none of it was acted upon and words were withheld.

"His dreams. Whose dreams are you peaking into, Dru?"

[Visual]

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

"The man on the telly," she said, glancing back at the screen. She hadn't expected to find him, but she was glad that she had. Soap operas weren't the same without Spike at her side and reality television wasn't real enough for Drusilla. A group of people locked in a house and no one killed anyone else? Oh, no. That didn't work.

"He's called Floop," she added.

[Visual]

[undoing.livejournal.com]

Angel squinted the image. That face was familiar - he'd seen it somewhere around here before, someone on the tablets...someone who'd possibly been here a while - but he couldn't put a name to it. The problem with being somewhat reclusive was not having all the pieces to the who's-who-here puzzle that others did. He could recognize faces from the tablets, but when it came to names that went along with them...

"Floop. Unusual name."

[Visual]

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

"I'm going to find him," said Drusilla, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "I've got lots of ideas."

She'd met Glitch once or twice - he was a lovely dancer, for a man with only half a brain - but, despite the facial similarities, she hadn't connected him with Floop yet. Only a very special sort of person could dream like that and Glitch simply wasn't interesting enough.