[ He sounds like Crawford, but not. There is still the overlyaing gruffness brought on by smoking since he was thirteen. But the tired anger was gone. There was one, overbearing fact that marked this voice as not quite right: he spoke with a thick, Irish accent. ]What the bloody hell is going on here? Dane? Jackie? I knew the lure of an honest to ( Read more... )

[ His voice is very strained and hoarse. Anyone near Zelda's would have heard why--a lot of yelling, screaming and general senseless rage. There was a slur to his words, as he finally got his alcohol fix. But, most of all, he sounds utterly desperate. ]

You.....Gods. You bastards that dragged me here. You--

[ A choked sound. ]--Please. I just ( Read more... )

[ A soft grating sound of the flint on a lighter being struck, soon followed by a strong exhale. The voice sounds tired, weary and annoyed. A mutter to himself. ]

This shit's just gettin' fuckin' riddiculous....

[ A little stronger now, addressing the device directly, but still sounding more worn out than usual. ]I need to fucking hit something ( Read more... )