054;

[gottaknockhard]

[Spike finally reached his limit. Well, his new limit; the one he set after he reached the last one. The castle took it a few steps too far when it started making him fall in love with random residents, then followed it up by screwing with his memories and giving him new ones that would bring him nightmares for the rest of his life. There's no way he's going back there. -- He's currently lying on a bench in town, where he's been sleeping for more than a week just to avoid anything related to the castle. Which has worked, but as a consequence gave him an obscenely sore neck. No plan is ever perfect.

He takes off his jacket to use as a pillow when he notices the journal still stuck inside it.]

You again. [He could have sworn he threw it into the duck pond on his way out. But since he's stuck with it, that could be a sign... Maybe there's another reason he's having trouble sleeping. Against his better judgment, he sits up and rubs his neck. Then he finally opens the journal and pulls out something to write with.]

---

(People he was in lo-...)

[-ve with...... His pen stops halfway through writing the filter and his expression turns sour.]

... Eugh.

---

[Turns out, he still doesn't want to deal with it. Scowling at himself, he uses the journal to block the sun from his eyes and lies back down on the bench.]

Whatever.

Comments

[whatialways_do]

[Yep. That's definitely Spike sleeping on that there bench. And here's Max, wandering over to nudge his leg a bit with her foot.]

Pretty sure there are more comfortable places to sleep.

[gottaknockhard]

[He's lucky he had something covering his face when he hears Max's voice coming from somewhere that definitely isn't the journal. The pained expression is mostly gone when he lifts it enough to look up at her.]

Suits me just fine.

[whatialways_do]

[she is definitely amused. And here to troll you, whether that flirting you were doing with her a few weeks back was a loss or not.]

Sure your back is gonna say the same thing?

[gottaknockhard]

[He's going to go as long as he can without mentioning it. So much goes on, it could be the furthest thing from his mind...]

It's not that bad. [Yes it is. He's just too cheap to get a room at an inn.] I needed the fresh air.

[whatialways_do]

[shrugs, before nudging his legs a little harder so she could sit next to him.]

I get that. How long you been out here?

[gottaknockhard]

[He isn't enough of a jackass to keep hogging it, so he swings his legs around and sits up again, plucking the journal off of his head and closing it next to them. This probably isn't leading in a direction he wants to go, but he'll pretend not to notice.]

I'm not sure. What day is it?

[whatialways_do]

Saturday. August Fourth?

[gottaknockhard]

[A while, then. No wonder he's sore.]

Time really flies.

[whatialways_do]

[plops down next to him and sighs]

Avoiding somebody?

[onlyanapple]

We're eloquent today.

[gottaknockhard]

[Yeah, opening the journal to improve his mood wasn't the smartest idea.]

Thanks.

[onlyanapple]

[Nope. Good going there Spike-o]

You're welcome. So what are you bitching about this time?

[gottaknockhard]

[Next time he'll find a deeper duck pond.]

I got a paper cut.

[onlyanapple]

Oh you poor darling. However will you cope with life now?

[gottaknockhard]

One day at a time.

[onlyanapple]

And after all that weirdness too, it's a wonder you know how to deal with it at all.

[gottaknockhard]

[He always knows just what to say. This time it's a particularly sore spot, so Spike will of course act like it isn't.]

Same as anyone else.

[exanimatus]

[well, he was going to take a nap there... but upon approaching, he sees that someone else is already on his bench. which is unacceptable.

so he'll walk over and kick the metal part closest to Spike's head. he hopes it reverberates nicely.]

Hey.

[gottaknockhard]

[Spike had just closed his eyes again when someone starts playing with the bench. He frowns and waits for the vibrations to stop, not even bothering to see who it is. Hopefully blatant ignoring will get the hint across.]

[exanimatus]

[huh. that usually works.

he'll just... set the air on fire a little ways from Spike's face. might light his hair on fire if he's not careful.]

[gottaknockhard]

[It works. Spike's eyes snap open when he feels the heat, and he scrambles away from the fire (???) that brushes close enough to singe a few hairs. His reflexes just barely save him from something tragic, but that doesn't mean he won't be pissed off about it.

Once he figures out what's going on, and his heart slows back down, he fixes an annoyed glare at the guy standing in front of him. Since Spike wasn't watching, he's not immediately piecing together how he did that. His memory will jog in a second.]

What the hell?

[exanimatus]

[the fire, of course, disappears the moment Spike starts moving. he's too far away do have done that any logical way. vampires, always ruining everything.

...Zelman just points at the bench.]

You're in my spot.

[gottaknockhard]

[It's nice to know whenever he's overloaded with personal turmoil, he can still expect to run into the same petty bullshit he always has.]

Your spot?

[exanimatus]

That's what I said.

[petty is his middle name.]

[gottaknockhard]

[He's not getting up. On principle of getting woken from his nap.]

Looks like you'll have to find a new one.