(Untitled)

[mods_in_space]

Televisions all across the star system were tuned to one station. People sat huddled around the screens, faint blue light bathing their faces, an uneasy silence settled over living rooms and bedrooms, restaurants and bars. What had started a week ago, maybe two, had grown and finally people were taking notice. Even The Chapterhouse had gone eerily

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[wickedfruit]

There was one set of eyes, at least, still glued to the television. Even when the noise started up again, Apple kept watching, reading the subtitles underneath the anchor woman's botox-tightened face.

Again, contacts within the Peacekeepers have thus far declined comment on the details of the murder, but claim that all possible resources are being put forth towards finding Ms. Ripley's killer.

Apple dubbed her cigarette out in a nearby ashtray and took a sip of her cocktail, all the while keeping her eyes on the television.

[nobler_things]

It wasn't one of his. No risk of that. It made him angry, sitting at the bar, leaning over his beer and a plate of fried onions. Wasn't his style anyway, but he hadn't left a trail of carnage behind him in... too long.

Spike watched the television, ears pricked, listening to the broadcaster over the roar of voices, and felt a pang of nostalgia.

Those... those were the good old days.

[the_nightman]

This was not Ben's kind of place. How he'd gotten dragged here, of all places, he couldn't explain. Well, he could, but there was no way in hell he was gonna be able to explain it to Jodie.

He was gonna go home smelling like booze and cigarettes. It wasn't something he was looking forward to explaining. Not at all.

He stood near the bar, laughing with his buddies, then alone when they all moved closer to the stage. Maybe he could make up an excuse, slip out early. One of the girls was sick, maybe. Yeah, that'd work.

[god_is_talking]

The operator watched the broadcast with obvious interest, moving closer to the bar with an almost serene expression on her face.

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked.

"Something... red. Doesn't matter what," she replied, smiling at him. A quirk of lips that was more likely to send shivers down a man's spine then warm his heart.

He gave her a curious look, but didn't say anything as he went to mix her a drink.