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Entry tags:
03 | video
[Good morning, Hadriel! And by 'morning', we mean approximately... 4:30 in the morning.
Lilith, sitting at what's evidently the kitchen table in her apartment, doesn't look especially concerned that she's waking anybody with this post. Seeing as she's very, very sure that she's not the only one still up in these wee hours, futilely fighting the nightly waves of Fear-induced exhaustion by trying to sleep as little as possible while she is affected. Accordingly, she's rocking eyebags, """smoky""" eyeliner, and a mug of coffee approximately the size of her head. (Thanks, Chris and crew-- she owes you guys big.)]
'Sup. [is her deadpan opener. Yep, just a ''sup'. She stares, blankly, into the camera for a second, takes a huge swig from the giant mug of coffee, and continues in the same dispassionate tone.]
First off-- Fear, you're a dickhead.
[Cue another, smaller, gulp of coffee. Charming as ever, she flicks her middle finger up at the camera while she drinks.] Delight's cool, though, thanks for the breaks every other-- ooooooh my God, caffeine, this is definitely helping! Hoooly crap.
[Can you tell she hasn't slept very much.]
Secondly. Good luck to everybody in Slumbertown tonight, but I'm sick of Fear's fresh new mental scarring every damn time I try to go to sleep: I'm sitting up tonight. Who's with me? 'Cause if you are, could you bring me some more coffee? And, um, some of those little video game things, 'cause the wimpy stone age batteries in all of mine have died already.
[Sigh.] 'Least I already got used to 30-hour days on Pandora.
Lilith, sitting at what's evidently the kitchen table in her apartment, doesn't look especially concerned that she's waking anybody with this post. Seeing as she's very, very sure that she's not the only one still up in these wee hours, futilely fighting the nightly waves of Fear-induced exhaustion by trying to sleep as little as possible while she is affected. Accordingly, she's rocking eyebags, """smoky""" eyeliner, and a mug of coffee approximately the size of her head. (Thanks, Chris and crew-- she owes you guys big.)]
'Sup. [is her deadpan opener. Yep, just a ''sup'. She stares, blankly, into the camera for a second, takes a huge swig from the giant mug of coffee, and continues in the same dispassionate tone.]
First off-- Fear, you're a dickhead.
[Cue another, smaller, gulp of coffee. Charming as ever, she flicks her middle finger up at the camera while she drinks.] Delight's cool, though, thanks for the breaks every other-- ooooooh my God, caffeine, this is definitely helping! Hoooly crap.
[Can you tell she hasn't slept very much.]
Secondly. Good luck to everybody in Slumbertown tonight, but I'm sick of Fear's fresh new mental scarring every damn time I try to go to sleep: I'm sitting up tonight. Who's with me? 'Cause if you are, could you bring me some more coffee? And, um, some of those little video game things, 'cause the wimpy stone age batteries in all of mine have died already.
[Sigh.] 'Least I already got used to 30-hour days on Pandora.
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