Nicholas D. Wolfwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notabluesbro) wrote2011-11-28 04:30 am
notabluesbro) wrote2011-11-28 04:30 am
30th Confession [Action/Voice]
Sagittarius (End o' November):
• Being unique just means you don't fit in.
• RUN! For gods sake, run!
• Your usually dominant manner is replaced by a coy submissiveness today. Go with it.
• It will rain tomorrow. Guaranteed.
[Action | Monday]
[The good news: he foresaw misery for his week. But then, it really doesn't prepare you for the shit that happens anyway. `_`
Case in point: You can find him running. And he can't stop. He will not stop. If he talks to you? He'll be jogging in place, because he cannot even control himself thanks to this FUCKING HOROSCOPE. And even worse, the running is 24 hours long. That's right, for all of Monday he is running up a storm. Catch him running to the Trigun house with a brown paper bag (probably booze, come on), or find him smoking outside of the bar (hello I'm running in circles), or you can find him running trying to stop himself. That is, he's holding onto a tree branch for dear life while his legs are still moving.
But it gets worse. So much worse. When he finally can get himself to stop one day later, he wakes up next to Milly with a really bad problem. That is... the coy submissiveness comes rolling in. He can't even fight the damn thing. He hops up naked and drags the blanket over him flustered red. Shit shit shit. Y-you're naked and I'm naked and this is just... eeeeeh.
..... This is going to be a bad day. And the sad thing is? He can't even tell just how bad yet. He sneaks downstairs once this whole affair with Milly is done with his gaze focused to the floor. And. Makes some food. And you know what he does? He pets Kuroneko. Like, in a sort of cautious way, with a worried frown. There, there, you crazy cat.]
[Voice | Tuesday]
S-so... [... He itches his nose.] We're... having a shift. I wouldn't be worried about it; it'll go away in a matter of time. They don't keep 'em running for a whole long time.
[No eye contact with the journal, and the voice is considerably low and polite.]
It'll all blow over, don't sweat it... Right? I think so, anyway...
[Action | Monday]
[The good news: he foresaw misery for his week. But then, it really doesn't prepare you for the shit that happens anyway. `_`
Case in point: You can find him running. And he can't stop. He will not stop. If he talks to you? He'll be jogging in place, because he cannot even control himself thanks to this FUCKING HOROSCOPE. And even worse, the running is 24 hours long. That's right, for all of Monday he is running up a storm. Catch him running to the Trigun house with a brown paper bag (probably booze, come on), or find him smoking outside of the bar (hello I'm running in circles), or you can find him running trying to stop himself. That is, he's holding onto a tree branch for dear life while his legs are still moving.
But it gets worse. So much worse. When he finally can get himself to stop one day later, he wakes up next to Milly with a really bad problem. That is... the coy submissiveness comes rolling in. He can't even fight the damn thing. He hops up naked and drags the blanket over him flustered red. Shit shit shit. Y-you're naked and I'm naked and this is just... eeeeeh.
..... This is going to be a bad day. And the sad thing is? He can't even tell just how bad yet. He sneaks downstairs once this whole affair with Milly is done with his gaze focused to the floor. And. Makes some food. And you know what he does? He pets Kuroneko. Like, in a sort of cautious way, with a worried frown. There, there, you crazy cat.]
[Voice | Tuesday]
S-so... [... He itches his nose.] We're... having a shift. I wouldn't be worried about it; it'll go away in a matter of time. They don't keep 'em running for a whole long time.
[No eye contact with the journal, and the voice is considerably low and polite.]
It'll all blow over, don't sweat it... Right? I think so, anyway...
no subject
OKAY NO he ducks out of her grip and shimmies to the other end of the bed, looking frazzled with his hair astray.]
I don't think this is a good idea right now! I'm, uh, aaah—not feeling well...!
[YEAH THAT'S IT]
no subject
Why didn't you just say so? My poor darling, you just stay right there and I'll get you some clean pajamas and make you some warm tea and we'll have you feeling as right as rain in a jiffy.
[Reaches out to smooth down his hair.]
no subject
Y-you don't... have to do that much, big girl....
[@///@]
no subject
I know I don't have to, but I want to. You know how I fuss.
no subject
In more than one place but THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT because he pushes out to keep her at arm's distance. Which is strange, because—well, she is his wife, after all. It's just. For some reason, this sort of touch is just too...]
I—I know you're fussy, but you don't wanna get too close; you could catch something from me, right?
no subject
Darling, you look terrible! Just lie back now, I'll get you some hot tea and I'm going to go and get you some toast and some medicine. Where do you feel sick? Is it your tummy? Your head?
[Reaches for him again.]
no subject
Before he can even help himself he grabs her hand, keeping it at bay. And his blush intensifies by this touch, before he looks down and pulls the blankets closer.]
...
I think it's my head...
no subject
Very very strange.]
Umm... I should probably get you some tea now.
no subject
...... Th-thanks...