Sep 28, 2011 23:59
[OPEN SPAM IN THE GYM]
[He's pissed.
It isn't often that things are so raw, but today -- today, is in exception. Again, he fell asleep, and again he wakes up, only to find others gone. He wishes it could be him, that every day he rolled out of bed or rose out of the chair (Wintergreen's favorite), he wasn't still here.
Slamming a fist into the punching bag, he glowers a little when it breaks apart, spilling its contents on the floor. That's the second already today, and he reflects that inanimate objects are a poor substitute to the real thing. There's no one here he can fight, though, no one who could take his frustrations, match them, and understand. The only one who did is gone.
Slade rubs his face, ignoring the sting of sweat in his eyes. He has a mess to clean up, but it'll have to come later. With everyone else preoccupied as they are, he doesn't expect to see to many.
Picking out another punching bag, he sets up elsewhere and starts again.]
[ooc: hhhhh this should have been up yesterday, but Slade is (was?) affected by the flood. Feel free to stop by and prod him for some remarkable honesty!]
fuck you barge,
kicking ass is how i brood,
[comm] lastvoyages,
feelings? what feelings?,
flood,
badass assassin,
ask me questions i'll tell you no lies