69; dictated

[gottaknockhard]

[As far as losses go, Spike often thinks his price is greater than others. Not being able to get drunk off his ass has several undesirable consequences that most probably couldn't cope with. Namely, that the endless inner dialog of his present situation never comes to an eventual stop when he passes out, either on a bar stool or wherever other place he eventually dumps himself. As a result, he's steadily lost sleep; which is nothing uncommon or unexpected considering all the events that take place on a weekly basis. He's sure if he flips through the journal more often he'll find an "Insomniacs Anonymous" support group that somebody formed while he wasn't paying attention.

Sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Jet, Annie, or even Laughing Bull had been around to guide his sometimes impulsive decisions. As seldom as he took their advice, having it offered seemed to ground him somewhat in a way that nobody else manages, and it's at times like this that he feels how the distinct lack of resistance has him spiraling further and further away from rationality.

He became so starved for some sort of criticism that he even found satisfaction in acting as a queen's bodyguard for a time, which surprised even himself. Anne never had any concept of how thoroughly he'd been using her to curb his own needs, and it's already too late for him to tell her about his now-obvious character flaws. -- Getting older has something to do with it too, he knows, as much as he'd rather not admit to it. Although his birthday came and went without incident, it also left him with an annoying urge to reflect on his time here and how cyclical all of his issues continue to be.

It's his lack of foresight that caused him to lose one of his simplest pleasures in life, and the thing that currently has him staring at a decorative clip he just stole (only to occupy himself with something else more than any promise to a deceptively sweet blonde). He's sure it'll be found missing soon enough, with possible consequences, and maybe that's the thing he's hoping for.

He definitely has a problem.]

---

( Lucrezia )

I didn't forget.

---

[Sitting in Julia's old car, which has become his new favorite place to smoke since bars became less appealing, he studies the journal that seems to have quieted since their dinosaur vacation. He isn't really in any hurry to finish his last cigarette, so he pipes up with his usual blasé brand of commentary.]

I guess I lost the bet.

Comments

Spike

[heloise]

What? Our anniversary?

Lucrezia

[gottaknockhard]

[Haha.]

Has it been that long already?

Spike

[heloise]

I wonder. I am not in the habit of remembering such things.

Lucrezia

[gottaknockhard]

Neither am I. So I suppose you could call it that.

Spike

[heloise]

So. What have I forgotten this time?

Lucrezia

[gottaknockhard]

Hm. If you've forgotten, I'm not sure if I should give it up. [Spike? Teasing? Never.]

Spike

[heloise]

[ Aw, how cute! ]

You could at least grant me three guesses!

[mal_addict]

...What bet?

[gottaknockhard]

There was some guy putting together a pool on what would happen next.

[mal_addict]

Oh yes, I remember him. He was very unimaginative. What did you go for?

[gottaknockhard]

[What did he say...? He knows it wasn't dinosaurs, but it was a while ago.]

Underwater something?

[mal_addict]

That's not a half bad one. Have we even ever had an underwater something before?

[gottaknockhard]

[Of course he would only make smart guesses!]

Not that I was around for. I should have thought ahead and broken a few pipes.

action

[samson]

[There is... someone... in the other car.

Not that Brock has a weird psychic connection with Spike's (Julia's) car like he has with his own, where he can tell if somebody's sitting in it. No, this time he just happened to see somebody in there.

Which is rude.

So he grabs the ax he keeps nearby for splitting wood (which is maybe a bit of an overkill, but whatever) and wrenches the passenger side door open.]

Hey --!

action

[gottaknockhard]

[See, that's the problem when you're denied one addiction; the need for the others get stronger. So cigarettes are sort of a vice that Spike needs more than your average smoker, and kind of one that he loses himself in when he's in the privacy of his ex's car-shrine. He was just in the middle of a deep inhale when the door violently tears open.

Unfortunately, this causes him to choke on the smoke, and he winds up coughing heavily into the steering wheel before he can even squint over to see Brock with his axe. What the hell, man?]

Hey. [--Wow that comes out rough. How embarrassing. You know, if he can even see him with all the fog in here.]

[samson]

[...oh.

Well.

Brock stares for a very long moment, because although Spike has the tendency to be weird... it's usually not sitting-alone-in-cars-smoking weird. So...

He lowers the ax, anyway.]

I pretty much almost killed you. The hell are you doing out here?

[gottaknockhard]

[As much as Spike appreciates that Brock increased his awareness of cars on his property, it doesn't quite read on his face. There's so little he gets away with anymore.]

What did it look like?

[samson]

[Build a treehouse, Spike. He'll never look there.]

Uh. Killing yourself with smoke inhalation, maybe. Think about cracking a window?

[gottaknockhard]

[Yeah, right. Then he'd just have to put up with nosy kids. -- Anyway, he waves a hand at the smoke in front of him, like he's only noticing with the fresh air coming in.]

A little smoke isn't going to kill me.

Voice

[honeytoes]

I guess you did...

Voice

[gottaknockhard]

[Oh hey, there he is.]

Dinosaurs would have been my next guess.

Voice

[honeytoes]

Too bad dude...you'd have 80 Caisos richer if you picked them.

Voice

[gottaknockhard]

This is tougher than I thought.

Voice

[honeytoes]

Makes winning all the more satisfying though doesn't it?

Voice

[gottaknockhard]

It does. That's how most gamblers go broke.