![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
068. Tea For One
[Brock's been quiet for the past few days, and with good reason. It's kind of hard to care about the day-to-day of a bunch of people in a magical wonderland when your wife is dead. Then again, he can't really keep all this shit to himself forever, so he pens a filter.]
[Maladict]
So, hey. All my other friends are idiot douchebags, so maybe we could talk or something. Like, it's... stupid... but you been there for me a lot, you know? So, uh. Whatever. Just, uh... yeah.
[/filter]
[...which, naturally, goes unanswered.
So after a few more hours, Brock's voice comes over the journal unfiltered this time. He is generally pretty blasé about everything, and when he's not, he's openly furious. But this time he's just very obviously inebriated and annoyed, so that's a thing.]
In case anybody's not too busy talking about stupid bullshit. My wife is pretty dead. So. I'm taking a vacation from being Brock "Solves All Your Problems" Samson for, like... two weeks -- no, a month. Don't bother me.
Oh, Maladict is gone too. So that's another person gone who actually helped anyone in this stupid place. Good fuckin' luck, Paradisa.
[There's a pause here. Maybe he meant to make a filter, but more likely he doesn't actually care.]
Vriska, come to the cabin. Bring a paintbrush. I'm gonna teach you art therapy.
- - CABIN - -
[And for anyone who decides to drop by -- Vriska or otherwise -- Brock is in the cabin. Painting. Poorly.
There are a bunch of easels set up in the living area, all with canvases that he obviously tried really hard on but the paintings are objectively bad. There are also a lot of empty beer cans, so that's a thing. All this along with the beard that Brock has been growing for the past several days is probably an extremely sad scene.
That's not even taking into account the body of his wife wrapped in a sheet in the bedroom.]
[Maladict]
So, hey. All my other friends are idiot douchebags, so maybe we could talk or something. Like, it's... stupid... but you been there for me a lot, you know? So, uh. Whatever. Just, uh... yeah.
[/filter]
[...which, naturally, goes unanswered.
So after a few more hours, Brock's voice comes over the journal unfiltered this time. He is generally pretty blasé about everything, and when he's not, he's openly furious. But this time he's just very obviously inebriated and annoyed, so that's a thing.]
In case anybody's not too busy talking about stupid bullshit. My wife is pretty dead. So. I'm taking a vacation from being Brock "Solves All Your Problems" Samson for, like... two weeks -- no, a month. Don't bother me.
Oh, Maladict is gone too. So that's another person gone who actually helped anyone in this stupid place. Good fuckin' luck, Paradisa.
[There's a pause here. Maybe he meant to make a filter, but more likely he doesn't actually care.]
Vriska, come to the cabin. Bring a paintbrush. I'm gonna teach you art therapy.
- - CABIN - -
[And for anyone who decides to drop by -- Vriska or otherwise -- Brock is in the cabin. Painting. Poorly.
There are a bunch of easels set up in the living area, all with canvases that he obviously tried really hard on but the paintings are objectively bad. There are also a lot of empty beer cans, so that's a thing. All this along with the beard that Brock has been growing for the past several days is probably an extremely sad scene.
That's not even taking into account the body of his wife wrapped in a sheet in the bedroom.]
Page 1 of 8