tucky | ♻ 009 | video/spam

Entry tags:

♻ 009 | video/spam

[video]

[Behold Tiffany: sitting at the foot of the steps in the Broken Stair room, a drunk and passed-out Mason slumped next to her with his head pillowed on her shoulder. Fortunately, she looks sober herself, albeit tired and stressed. She has her arms around him and is lightly stroking his hair, more for her own comfort than for his at this point.]

We're looking to hear from some people. Merlin and Gwen, 'cause they're our wardens, but also Iris, Dillon, and Simon. I wanna know if they're okay. And Mason wants to know about Tig and, uh-- Elena? Elana? I think it was Elena. And also--

[Here she makes a face.]

Facilier. Fucking asshole.

I was also wondering if-- I mean, we don't have magic powers or nothing, and this whole place is... really, really fucked up. We came in here because it's quiet, but the stairs don't ever end, and I think there must be a better way.

So we need help. I don't know exactly where we are, but I can say it's near the bedrooms with the dead bodies, 'cause that's where I pulled him from. A lot of the stuff here seems strange and magical, so I was thinking, maybe we could just sit here until someone who--

[Suddenly one of the beams creaks extra loudly, and a spooky, etherial chattering can be heard echoing around the darkened room. Tiffany curls her fingers into the sleeve of Mason's shirt, eyeing the ceiling warily.]

... I would appreciate someone coming real soon, I think.

[spam]

[They'll be camped out there for a bit, so characters going up or down might pass them by. Feel free to stop and chat! Or glare. Or gloat.]

[OOC: Mason gets blanket rights to wake up and threadjack anywhere if Allison so chooses! This also means he could potentially hear Tiffany's side of audio/video conversations, even locked ones, so keep that in mind if you want your character to say something he shouldn't overhear.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[And then some XXX rated stuff happened where Mason had to remember all over again how to do the thing and that other thing and then this happened and he couldn't apologize enough but hopefully will still be able to look Tiffany in the eye afterwards and then he completely fell asleep.

But he's woken up by the elbow nudging, giving a snort awake]

Whuh?

Well, s'not really a fair comparison, is it? They were murdering me at the time.

[Oh, Mason. She likes him enough that she thinks it was great no matter what.]

Yeah, I know. I was just kidding.

[She looks at him fondly and kisses his shoulder.]

Didn't know you was asleep, sorry. You can sleep again if you want.

[He gives a sleepy grin at the kiss, rolling over on his side to face her and propping his head up]

S'all right. Sorry. S'just been a long time.

..A really fucking long time.

Longer than three years? 'Cause that's almost what it was for me.

[No conjugal visits allowed at Litchfield. And speaking of Litchfield...

Her tone gets a little more subdued, and she averts her eyes.]

You know, you-- you never asked me why I was in prison. And I know I've mentioned it a couple times, so it ain't like you didn't know. Didn't you ever wonder why? I mean… for all you know I could've killed someone.

[Spoilers: she killed someone.]

Longer'n three years.

[unless you count the Goth chick who dragged him into a closet for a quick one, but Mason tends not to count her]

Tiff. Darling.

I am a fucking grim reaper. I'm aroun' people who every day are killing someone. I've killed someone. There are worse crimes. An' killing doesn't necessarily make you a bad person.

Yeah?

[She doesn't think about her crime much. The dissonance it causes makes her feel uncomfortable, because there's a big difference between why her lawyer argued she did it, and why she really did it. It's complicated, and so she tries to ignore it as much as possible.

But then the other penny drops, and she realizes the other part of what he just said. She looks up at him in surprise, perching her chin on his arm.]

You killed someone? You mean, like, in the reaper way?

[He shrugs a little, feeling it might not be right to bring up Daisy when he's lying in bed with another girl]

Nah. Reapers don't kill. We only take away your soul when you're done using it.

I beat a man to death.

Tiff, do you really want to be hearing about this? It's gruesome.

[She isn't so sure she does, not when memories of those death dreams still bug her.]

Only if you wanna say. If you don't, that's okay, but if you do, I... I wanna be there for you, like you were there for me when I was upset. Don't wanna shut you out or nothing.

[He nods, reaching out to Tiffany's face to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear]

You're lovely to think that, but really, I think it's better if you don't know. There's a lot of darkness, in death. Lots of depressing shit. I'd hate to ruin the moment, yes?

My goodness, you are beautiful.

[She melts; of course she does. Iris had told her she cleaned up nicely, and a couple of the Barge's resident womanizers have hit on her shamelessly, but it means something totally different to her coming from Mason. She gives him the kind of soft-eyed look you probably shouldn't be giving a fuckbuddy.]

You think? I don't... I don't get called that a lot.

That makes me sad. It really, really does.

Because you are beautiful, Tiff. You've got a lovely smile, an' kind eyes. I like your eyes.

[He rolls over onto his back with a groan, stretching his arms up over his head to reach for the ceiling]

Mmn. Mm mm mm.

What do you say to staying here the rest of the day? We can order in room service. Have ourselves a bit of breakfast in bed.

You think if I called our wardens, they'd deliver our plates to us? Like we were in a hotel room?

[She reaches up and touches her mouth, even more grateful than usual that Cambridge had fixed her teeth.]

I like that idea very, very much. And I think you should try it.

[She's feeling decidedly gooey, brimming with warmth and affection, and she scoots closer to nuzzle his shoulder.]

Especially the part about you staying here. With me.

[He grins, and reaches over Tiffany's body to snag her communicator, typing on it while lying horizontally across her]

'Dear....Merlin...'

'It's Tiffany, your lovely inmate, whom you love and adore. I've just had sex with a handsome British man and I would like some waffles, toot sweet. Chop chop, time's money.'

[She starts cracking up, sitting up to peer over his shoulder to see if he's actually writing it or just pretending.]

You really gonna send that? Don't even know what he'd say.

[He's totally writing it. Mason grins, glancing over his shoulder, his thumb hovering over the Send button]

Dare me to press it?

Yup.

But I'll write something to Gwen if you do.

Jus' so long as you don't call her any names, an' I will happily turn my phone over to you. Soon as I can find it in all these blankets.

[He hits Send, grinning and much pleased]

I wouldn't call her names, she's a warden. And I like her, she's nice.

[She starts rooting around in the blankets, too. There's a lot of them; it's a big bed.]

She is. She's very nice. She puts up with me.

[Mason grins, watching]

Getting a bit handsy, aren't we?

You ain't hard to put up with.

[And she definitely gives him a grope before unearthing the phone.]

Here it is.

[She starts to type...]

dear Gwen,

Good morning this is Mason your amazing inmate. I was wandering if you could'nt bring me by some

[... And then she gets to a word that she isn't sure of the spelling of, and hesitates. She doesn't want to look stupid. She doesn't want Mason to think she's stupid.]

Maybe, uh... maybe you should write this one after all.

[He gives a bit of a start of surprise before grinning, settling down again to watch Tiffany go at it. When she pauses, he wiggles his fingers, reaching for the communicator]

Here, give. Give. I shall happily dictate your words to my most beloved warden.

[If you two care to investigate the knock on your door five minutes post-text, you will find a plate of waffles and a small note written in somewhat old-timey handwriting:]

Dear Mason,

Please do not do this again.

Merlin

[There is also a condom clipped to the note because he assumes you will need a replacement, Tiffany.]

[She passes it over sheepishly.]

Thanks. It ain't because-- I mean...

[... He'd called her beautiful. Maybe she can tell him the truth. She suddenly becomes very interested in searching through the blankets for her shirt.]

-- Wasn't sure how to spell "pancakes", is all. Is it A-K-E-S, or A-C-K-E-S?

[There's a tiny, tiny millisecond where Mason pauses, before he rallies himself, nodding and breaking into a smile. He taps Tiffany gently on the shoulder to get her to look up]

Here, I'm going to show you something Georgie once showed me.

You see this little button here? S'a spellcheck. An' what it does, is that you type your little bitty message out, an' it draws a squiggly red line under everything that's misspelled. So you can go through it and pick out the words you like.

S'a really handy tool. Don't know how I got along without it, to be honest.

-- Really? There's a spellcheck on this thing?

[OH THANK GOD. Ordinarily she doesn't care all that much that her spelling and grammar are shit, but at this moment she has a vested interest in not looking bad.]

Fuck, it's like a computer or a smartphone or something. Cool.

[Then she hears the ping of her Merlin's return message and the knock. She slides her underpants and shirt back on, braless, and jumps up to check the door.]

That might be Merlin texting back; you can answer that. ... Do you think I'm dumb?

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

no subject

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]

[post-breach spam]