fourth; video (trouble seldom sees what she leaves behind, there's a typhoon blowin')

[bekommen]

[Oddly enough, this broadcast doesn't seem to have anything wrong with it - just a video feed of Nick sitting slouched at Delight's bar with a half-empty glass in front of her, and it's clear from the slur of her words that it wasn't her first.]

Hey! Hadriel. All'a you. Listen, I got somethin' to say, if y'all can take five seconds to quit your shitposting and listen to someone else for a change.

[She pauses to take a sip of her drink and grins sharply into the camera.]

Shitposting - that's what you kids these days are callin' it, right? [She laughs.] See, Chris? Even Grandma here can pick up on the new hip lingo sometimes!

[There's something dark and unfriendly in her words, despite the too-tight smile stretched across her face. Nick waves her hand, a silent whatever. That isn't what she really wants to say.]

The point, dear Hadriel, is this: I hate you. All'a you. Yeah, Emily, that's right - you ain't anythin' special! 'Cause I hate everyone here. Y'all are the single worst thing that's ever happened to me, and believe me, that a fuckin' accomplishment and a half.

[Nick pauses again to take another drink, expression sharpening as the grin fades from her face.]

See, I thought the worst thing that ever happened to me was my dad dyin' when I was a kid. Shit, did that ever suck beyond the tellin' of it. And then, y'know, I thought havin' to live with my shitball mother for the next ten years, that was at least as bad, if not worse. But hey, I survived that. I had one friend in that shithole town I grew up in, an' we both survived it, together, an' we left that shithole town, together, and then after a buncha years of stickin' together in the city, you know what that fucker did?

[She laughs, a high-pitched, hysterical sound that's anything but funny.]

He fuckin' friend-broke up with me! Can you believe that shit? Man. Surely that was the worst thing to ever happen to me, right? But no - wait, it gets better.

[She leans in to the camera and drops her voice, conspiratorial, like she's divulging a secret - which she is.]

So I went on one of those great American roadtrips, right? And I ended up in fucking Canada. And hey, fuck Canada - right Chris? Because in fuckin' Canada, that's where I Became a Nightbane.

[Nick pulls both hands up for the camera in a silent, sarcastic ta-da gesture.]

That's right! Uh, what's your name - Dean, wasn't it? Yeah. Y'ain't gotta go crawlin' through the caves to find a monster, 'cause guess what? [She points at herself.] I'm sittin' right the fuck here.

[The grin reappears on her face, looking more like an angry baring of her teeth than a proper smile.]

So congratu-fuckin'-lations, Hadriel - that is what all you beat out for the honor of bein' the absolute fuckin' worst thing that's ever happened to me. Give yourselves a big fuckin' pat on the back. Cheers.

[Nick raises her glass in a mock-toast and throws back the rest of her drink, then reaches over to kill the feed. She'll definitely regret this in the morning, if not sooner.]

Comments

[bekommen]

No, [she says, rolling her eyes, with a loud sigh.] Somethin' else. I'm the only one here, I think. And I don't live in a cave - not yet, anyway.

[skelebro]

So you only look like a skeleton part of the time? You sure you're not just ribbing me?

[bekommen]

[Her face scrunches up as she contemplates his choice of words.]

... 'Sthat supposed to be a skeleton joke or somethin'?

[skelebro]

You could say that. I wouldn't have the guts to say otherwise.

[Cha-CHING.]

[bekommen]

[Sorry, bro, Nick isn't impressed by the puns. She rolls her eyes and sighs loudly.]

I'm not a skeleton. I don't even have a skeleton - well, now I do. Obviously.

[skelebro]

Hey, that's fine. Everybody's got a skeleton or two. Some've even got skeletons in their closets, can you imagine?

[bekommen]

Jesus Christ - does anyone actually find that amusing?

[skelebro]

You'd be surprised. Half the fun is in the audience.

[Positive reactions or negative. He's not picky.]

[bekommen]

What's your audience, third-graders?

[skelebro]

Whoever's handy.

[He frees his hand by removing it from his elbow joint with a soft pop and waves it in front of the camera.]

See?

[bekommen]

[OK, now she's staring.]

That is incredibly fucked up, dude.

[skelebro]

[Sans reattaches the errant limb, apparently nonplussed.]

Everyone's a critic.

[bekommen]

Doesn't that hurt?

[skelebro]

[Sans winks, a shift in bone that shouldn't be possible but happens nonetheless.]

Do I look like a guy that willingly does things that're in any way painful? Buddy, I don't even check my mail if I don't have to.

[And even when he does.]

[bekommen]

[Nick gives the camera an exaggerated shrug, once again rolling her eyes.]

How the fuck should I know? I never met a talking skeleton before. Don't you gotta have nerves to feel pain an' shit?

[skelebro]

Not in the conventional sense, I shouldn't think. Got a lotta nerve askin' these questions, huh?

[Heh heh heh.

That's not to say he can't feel pain. Certainly he can. But 1 HP doesn't give a lot of buffer for that sort of thing, and it's safe to say that most pain is the kind that prematurely ends his life. Or post-maturely, depending on your viewpoint.]

[bekommen]

Christ, are you really gonna do this for every single thing I say?

[skelebro]

It's a gift.

[And he is loving every second of it.]

[bekommen]

Yeah, well, I'd return it if I was you.

[skelebro]

I would, but I didn't take the receipt.

[Wordplay's his game and he can play all day.]

[bekommen]

Well, that was pretty fuckin' dumb. Everyone knows you hang on to receipts.

[skelebro]

Well, that's not very environmentally-conscious of you.

[bekommen]

Go cry me a river over a can of dolphin-safe tuna.

[skelebro]

I would, but uh...

[He taps the edge of one eye socket, and shrugs.]

No tear ducts.

[bekommen]

You are really fuckin' weird, y'know that?