[IC] [voice post]

[undeadkennedys.livejournal.com]

[begin voice post]

[Murmured, nearly inaudible.] H--Horatio? The pain, it's--

[A long pause, marked with fumbling noises, and then a sharp intake of breath.] Lord, that's a grand spread--hm? [A beeping noise.] "Recording"? Recording what? [The sound of a few keys being hit, essentially at random.] What is this thing anyw--

[end voice post]

((ooc: Wakes up at a buffet with a laptop. SO MUCH FOOD. SO CONFUSING. Will get better at writing Archie when it's not midnight-thirty.))

Comments

[undeadkennedys.livejournal.com]

[Archie is willing to put up with Ampersand's picking at him; the creature will presumably get bored eventually, right? He steps back next to Bush again and gives the monkey some ear scritches.]

A fairly empty Heaven, if indeed that's where we've arrived. [Seems more and more doubtful by the moment, man.] Have you been here long yourself, sir?

[yrobtsvt.livejournal.com]

[Yorick smiles,] "Oh, I hope it's not Heaven. I will be in so much trouble if I died." [He thinks about it for a moment, and then,] "Like, two weeks, for me. And, yeah, there're a few other people here, but they're few and far between. Some of them I haven't even seen yet; I'm pretty sure there's a bird on the top floor. Like, a hawk." [Yorick seems a little excited at the prospect of this, if only because he read My Side Of The Mountain one too many times as a child.]

[It seems indelicate for Bush to comment on Yorick's situation, or Archie's; he is at a loss, besides to ask if he is aware that anyone else present in this strange place is deceased. Instead, he continues to observe the monkey, still picking through the nits in Archie's hair.]

[undeadkennedys.livejournal.com]

And I likewise if I did not. [Let us make light of the situation, gentlemen.] I have been waylaid on my way to the afterlife. Do let Horatio know when you next see him, Bush. [And let us do it...with just a hint of the bitter. Oh, Ahchie.]

[yrobtsvt.livejournal.com]

[Bush frowns, slight, furrowing his brow. Ampersand, who has so far recently been silent, begins to ook again.] I shall do my utmost. [He's somewhat at a loss as how to deal with this, but pulls it off with a seeming sense of steadfastness. If only they had known each other less briefly, he would place a hand on his shoulder, or attempt some encouraging words; as it is, he can only stand and frown, knowing all attention would be unwanted.]

[Yorick, meanwhile, knows something is weird, but he doesn't know what. He shrugs, shuffling from foot to foot.] "O... kay. Sorry. Was it the plague?" [His voice lowers at that last question, as if saying its name will bring it back.]