[RL - Somewhere in Florida]

[wittywitwicky]

[ooc: So, Sam's been given a moderate beating in his attempts to locate Frenzy, and has been told in no uncertain terms that he better not try it again. Now he's broke, hurt, and unhappy. Aw~]*slumps against a wall in a crappy, empty warehouse, most of his things strewn around him, looking pretty miserable

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[wittywitwicky]

*heeeeavy sigh*

I'm just a little pissed off, okay? This sucks. This really really sucks.

[wittywitwicky]

*reaches into the glove compartment for the first aid kit, though everything hurts too much for him to really make a decision about what to treat first; settles for a handful of pain killers and settles back into his seat*

And now even coming out here was completely pointless and I have to make up something to tell my parents and... God, I got owned by that stupid... creepy thing.

[wittywitwicky]

*rolls his eyes at the music*

Are you making fun of me?

[wittywitwicky]

*really trying not to be bratty and bitter about this, but...*

When are you going to tell everyone that I totally screwed up and now we're never going to find him?

[wittywitwicky]

*whacks at the vents and tries to snap them shut*

Hey, c'mon, knock it off!

[wittywitwicky]

*wow, feels surprisingly HORRIBLE, now*

... Sorry. It's not your fault.

[wittywitwicky]

*not going for it, sadly*

It's still my fault, but that's okay. I think a few cracked ribs will teach me my lesson...