[Spike greets when he comes in, making a beeline for his room (previously Angel's, but that doesn't matter on the grand scale of things). He has been exploring all day, picking up some essentials like cigarettes, cigarettes and more cigarettes. He will have made it too, if not for the bright green thing hovering at the corner of his vision.]
Shut the lights out, won't y--
[No. ]
[Holy shi-- it couldn't be. ]
[Making his way over to the other vampire, Spike reaches a hand out and pinches at Angel's arm. The bar decreases just slightly. ]
[Angel's about to hit him for it, or at least glare a bunch, but then Spike draws attention to what exactly the bar above his head is. He narrows his eyes. And then the three words Spike will never hear again:]
[Is this finally his lucky day, week- hell, century? The words are barely out of Angel's mouth when Spike aims a right hook at him, followed immediately by an uppercut]
[Now he was rubbing his jaw, looking at the drop in his "HP" bar, as Spike had called it, in appraisal. After a long while, he sits back, crossing his arms.]
Comments 30
[Spike greets when he comes in, making a beeline for his room (previously Angel's, but that doesn't matter on the grand scale of things). He has been exploring all day, picking up some essentials like cigarettes, cigarettes and more cigarettes. He will have made it too, if not for the bright green thing hovering at the corner of his vision.]
Shut the lights out, won't y--
[No. ]
[Holy shi-- it couldn't be. ]
[Making his way over to the other vampire, Spike reaches a hand out and pinches at Angel's arm. The bar decreases just slightly. ]
Bloody hell, you have a HP bar!
Reply
...Spike, hit me.
Reply
Reply
I think it's degrading.
Reply
Leave a comment