backatthehotel: (Really a cry)
Pink Floyd (Floyd Pinkerton) ([personal profile] backatthehotel) wrote2013-10-26 11:27 pm
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You cannot reach me now, no matter how you try... [for allbloodyhail]

He didn't know what had caused it. Why, between breaths, the scales had fallen from his eyes, and he'd seen -- finally, again, with a permanence that he could feel, that he knew no guilty memories or internal judgment could banish from him -- seen his human weakness and his fear slip away from him. He had his wall again, as tall and strong and seamless as he had ever dreamed of it being. Nothing would reach that vulnerable part of him, ever again. And it would reach nothing, to taint with its weakness. Just like that glorious nightmare, so long ago.

Perhaps he wouldn't storm through the streets like that dark god, his followers marching obediently behind him, spreading their hate like a cleansing fire through streets clogged with filth -- perhaps he wouldn't, but to know that he could, that he was that man -- finally, again -- was enough.

He did not laugh -- though he felt it bubble to his lips, it did not pass them. -- as he whirled 'round his flat, tearing old reminders of his sentimentality from his walls and shelves, old photographs and sentimental vinyl, all in a growing pile in front of the door. Maybe he'd burn it, he thought, feeling a cold thrill at the idea. Destroy everything of that fool that he could. Finally, fully, be the man -- thegod -- he could be.

By the time Spike came, the flat was in tatters, though not, yet, on fire. (Small mercies.) There was the sound of running water in the bathroom.
allbloodyhail: combatable (tag face)

[personal profile] allbloodyhail 2013-10-27 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Spike swung in, door slamming behind as he took in the state of the place, jaw dropping.

"Pink?" he called into the now-echoey space, hoping the other man was there. That nothing terrible had happened. He hadn't yet realized the two weren't mutually exclusive.

He roamed through the halls of the little house, before his ear prickled at the sound of running water, darting inside the small room. "...Pink." His voice was tinged with relief, but also confusion, trying to make all the pieces fit, but none of it was adding up to a complete picture.
allbloodyhail: (hawaii says what)

[personal profile] allbloodyhail 2013-10-28 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
There was something about that voice; that tone, it was... It was unfamiliar, and when Pink stepped out it was all Spike could do not to double-take.

"You cut your hair." The words came out stilted, and dumb, but he knew he had to say them all the same. Something was different about Pink, something that had nothing to do with hair. He carried himself differently, he was more confident; like a new man.

His first thought was that Pink was possessed, he filed that away under possibilities.

"Why's all your stuff out?"
allbloodyhail: (always with you)

[personal profile] allbloodyhail 2013-11-01 01:03 am (UTC)(link)
Spike watched with no small degree of confusion, leaning against the doorframe because he really didn't want to move any closer.

"Is everything alright, mate?" he asked, knowing full well the answer before it came.
allbloodyhail: (the sirens)

[personal profile] allbloodyhail 2013-11-04 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
"Why don't you tell us about it," he implored softly, from his place on the wall. It didn't sound like any of his friend was left in there.
allbloodyhail: (:|)

[personal profile] allbloodyhail 2013-11-06 09:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Out of the cycle. Spike wished he didn't know what that mean, and he scowled at this new version of his friend.

"You look as in it as ever, to me." It was soft, but accusatory.