Entry 16: Video

[scentbombed]

((Backdated to the flood, sob, I'm sorry this is so late.))

[The changes are small and subtle, with Angua, but they're there. The observer who would notice such things might notice that her normally beige room looks slightly more upscale: there's a gold-backed clock on her nightstand where a picture frame usually sits, for example. More noticeably, her collar is gone, and to a well-trained ear, her accent may sound a little broader.

There's a large mystery mug on the table next to her, the contents not visible. She takes a sip from it and regards the camera cheerfully.]

Bet half of you a dollar you've got no idea who I am. Right? You can pay me any time.

Satsuki, all right, yeah? I'm sure you'll let me know if you need something. Good girl.

[Private to her friends, MINUS Dick, Buffy, Dracula, and Dean]

Drink later? Come to my room, the pub's full of them.

And if you are one of them, I'm waiting on that dollar.

Comments

[19centconstable]

Is that to say that you are yourself, or that you aren't?

I'm afraid I haven't got a whole dollar on me at the moment...

[scentbombed]

Of course I'm me, Constable. But half the Barge is having a bit of memory loss, it seems. One of those floods.

[19centconstable]

Oh, yes. Of course. I am myself as well.

...aren't I?

[scentbombed]

Well, if you know who I am, then yes, I'd imagine so.

[She softens a little, because this Angua's not a bad person... just not quite the real thing.] You all right, George? Feeling up to visiting?

[19centconstable]

Yes, of course, it can just be difficult to tell sometimes.

What did you have in mind?

[scentbombed]

Nothing in particular, man, just come have a drink. Everyone else is running about after their inmates, apparently.

[19centconstable]

I do hope the Admiral hasn't forgotten himself. But alright.

[Spam]

[George arrives promptly and more or less cheerfully. All of his wardrobe is as it should be, and he hasn't grown anything unmentionable, so he supposes he's managed to dodge this flood successfully. It's a relief, as harmless as the goings on seem to be.]

[scentbombed]

[Except for the missing collar and the new bling stuff, Angua appears more or less normal. She's opted for the modern half of her wardrobe, tight jeans and boots, rather than her armor, but that in itself isn't terribly strange.

The room itself is still smallish and very brown under its new fixings, but there's the little table, currently sporting an amber bottle and a pair of glasses. Angua sits casually, pouring out a generous measure for her guest.]

It does seem a little quieter than usual, though, doesn't it? This flood, I mean.

[19centconstable]

[He does notice her lack of neck-wear, but a lady has a right to accessorize herself however she pleases. And perhaps the fastening has broken. Or it is being cleaned.

And the trousers are terribly distracting, too.

George sits as well.]

It does, thank goodness. Perhaps it is one where everyone forgets to be upset?

text;

[technophilic]

I am fine.

text;

[scentbombed]

Right you are. [And that is pretty much all the checking in she's going to do, this flood.]

[ Voice ]

[surfaceshine]

[So Dean's spidey-sense is tingling; he has no idea what this flood is, but his nearest guess is something like an asshole flood. Which would explain why he isn't affected. At least, he's pretty sure that the fact that he remembers that floods sometimes happen is a good indication of this.

Anyway. He sounds wary, but not as outright pissy as he has in other posts, nor as he feels.]

The more important question might be if you have any idea who half the people here are.

[ Friends Fi- OH WAIT. :C ]

[ Voice ]

[scentbombed]

[This world's Angua is far less interested in volunteering for things that are dangerous or just plain annoying, and that means most of her friendships that are generally based on helping people just haven't happened. Which means that her reply to Dean is, while not outright nasty, decidedly cooler than it might otherwise be.]

I'm well aware, Mr. Winchester.

[ Voice ]

[surfaceshine]

[That gets a hesitation on his end; he doesn't have the easiest time reading Angua to begin with, but he knows this isn't right. He knows she's affected, and he's still no closer to knowing what's going on with this.

Or, at the moment, caring. He'll start to get worried if it drags on for more than four or so days, but in the meantime, everyone should go back to normal on their own if they don't all kill each other first.]

...I didn't know you were the gambling type.

[ Voice ]

[scentbombed]

Only when I know I'm going to win.

[ Voice ]

[surfaceshine]

That's not called gambling. That's called sharking.

[ Voice ]

[scentbombed]

Of course not -- I'm a copper, right? I would never. Just a friendly bet with high probabilities, that's all.

[ Voice ]

[surfaceshine]

...And that's called irony.

[MOVING ON.]

It's pretty much no use asking what's going on with you, right?

[ Voice ]

[scentbombed]

Anyone's welcome to say 'no' if they don't want to play, Winchester.

And I know you like to get up to a lot around here, but you're aware that none of us report to you, right? Sod off if you're looking for something to babysit.

[ Voice ]

[surfaceshine]

...I'm sorry [He's not at all.] I forgot that in some worlds, being concerned translates as a big "screw you."

[brbculling]

I didn't accept the bet.

[scentbombed]

Bet you won't now.

[brbculling]

I won- wait.

[He narrows his eyes.]

No bets.

[scentbombed]

Pity.

[brbculling]

I'm onto you.

[no he isn't.]