[OOC: Unexpected triggery content in the comments, based on the fact that she's talking about some of Atia's crimes.]

[The camera flicks on, and Parker looks like complete shit. She's got a giant bruise and a cut on her face, and the way she's moving suggest that she's got some bruising or other wounds that aren't viewable below the red flannel ( Read more... )

Jarod, you fucking little cretin, I don't know how the hell you did this, but it's got your grubby little paws written all over it.

Let me the fuck out of here, Jarod, or I'm going to find your little red notebook and shove it so far up your ass your missing mommy will feel it!

[Private to Paddy]
So, Irish, where you at?

[Private to Angelica]
How's it going, Angie?

[Private to Howie]
Let's do our drink tomorrow.

[Private to Kay]
Still pissed at you.

[Private to Sveta]
Can I do anything for you, Sunshine? Provide excellent handcuffs?

Fuck!

[Private to Paddy]

You still around, Paddy-cakes? You've been quiet.

[Jarod's gone, officially. Parker is not a happy camper.]

[Filtered to Paddy, Billy and Judas.]

We should do something, you know together.

Other than quitting smoking.

[Private to Jarod, voice.]

Ring ring.

[Those people on the sixth level might here a large amount of swearing and possibly things getting kicked around. People who know her probably get why this is a huge deal.]

[Multiple people checking in is totally chill.]

I need a god damn cigarette.

Fuck this place. Fuck it so hard.

[Parker has been watching the old vids of SIMs that Jarod's sent her over the ages, so she's in a pretty bad place at the moment. Bother her.]

No. No. [A clang here, because Parker has thrown the communicator where it bounced against her bed, giving a sideways view of Parker in a now too tight (and torn) suit. When she speaks, it's in an angry, smarmy tone.]

No. No. You have got to be fucking kidding me. After the fucking fear gas, now this. No. Fuck. Anyone but him[Parker screams for ( Read more... )