Allison Argent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theresalwayshope) wrote2015-05-11 01:14 pm
theresalwayshope) wrote2015-05-11 01:14 pm
31} just like a needle in a haystack, another day when we run with the wolfpack...
{forward dated to tomorrow, because the mun is impatient. :P}
[ACCIDENTAL PUBLIC VIDEO]
[When the feed flickers to life, it shows an unconscious Allison Argent, head half-buried in her pillow. The arm she has flung out towards the camera, fingertips looming large in the shot, show that she's the culprit who activated the transmission: more likely than not, she roused just enough to roll over and, in a sleepy haze, shut off a nonexistent alarm, inadvertently flicking on her video feed.
The dead transmission continues on until it is interrupted...she may be asleep, but Allison Argent's coma is officially over.]
[OPEN SPAM]
[Allison is in a miserable mood by the time she finally showers and gets dressed, heading to the dining hall to eat. For a while, she walks the corridors of the ship, just to stretch her legs and really start to feel awake again, with stops to pick up Brownie and Duchess along the way.
Once Brownie has been walked, unwilling to separate from them just yet, Allison finally heads for the pub. The keys jingle in her hand with a sad, hollow sound.
She files in with Brownie on her heels, surveying the place with a sigh. She'd requested custody of the place just after she realized Duke was gone, then fallen into another stupid coma before she could take proper care of it.
She missed him...Jesus, she missed him.
Taking a deep breath, she walked over to slip behind the bar, setting Duchess down on the end with her bandanna, some hay, and one of her chew toys to amuse her. Ever the responsible "mother," Brownie planted herself to lay on the floor directly under Duchess's perch while Allison began to shuffle around, looking over the glasses, booze, and anything else Duke might have left behind.
It was her place now...she had to learn how to keep it running.]
[ACCIDENTAL PUBLIC VIDEO]
[When the feed flickers to life, it shows an unconscious Allison Argent, head half-buried in her pillow. The arm she has flung out towards the camera, fingertips looming large in the shot, show that she's the culprit who activated the transmission: more likely than not, she roused just enough to roll over and, in a sleepy haze, shut off a nonexistent alarm, inadvertently flicking on her video feed.
The dead transmission continues on until it is interrupted...she may be asleep, but Allison Argent's coma is officially over.]
[OPEN SPAM]
[Allison is in a miserable mood by the time she finally showers and gets dressed, heading to the dining hall to eat. For a while, she walks the corridors of the ship, just to stretch her legs and really start to feel awake again, with stops to pick up Brownie and Duchess along the way.
Once Brownie has been walked, unwilling to separate from them just yet, Allison finally heads for the pub. The keys jingle in her hand with a sad, hollow sound.
She files in with Brownie on her heels, surveying the place with a sigh. She'd requested custody of the place just after she realized Duke was gone, then fallen into another stupid coma before she could take proper care of it.
She missed him...Jesus, she missed him.
Taking a deep breath, she walked over to slip behind the bar, setting Duchess down on the end with her bandanna, some hay, and one of her chew toys to amuse her. Ever the responsible "mother," Brownie planted herself to lay on the floor directly under Duchess's perch while Allison began to shuffle around, looking over the glasses, booze, and anything else Duke might have left behind.
It was her place now...she had to learn how to keep it running.]
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Days? Whu'dya mean? [She flops on her back, keeping Mason's face in view as she rubs at one eye, trying to wake herself up.] Whu'day 's it? S'tomorrow, s' whu' day it is.
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She's wide awake now.]
What?!?
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...Christ, please don't tell me you were in a coma, too. [She's going to kill the Admiral. And this time, she means it...]
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[She blinks, then rubs her eyes again.]
At least I think so...crap, I don't even know what time it is! Argh!
[A lupine growl rolls up from deep in her chest on the edge of her frustrated groan.]
Comas are the devil. I'm not kidding, I'm punching the Admiral...I have to go check on the pub, find out who's taking care of my animals...hey, speaking of, how's Johnny?
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Johnny's good. Got into a bit of my stash, y'know, so he was very...mellow, for a bit.
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How about I make you a deal. You toss your weed stash, and I'll give you carte blanche at the pub. Anything you want, whenever you want, as long as it's alcohol free. I'll request stock from the Admiral to give you some really good options, too.
I'll even throw in a bonus for Johnny: toss your weed, and I'll request a burrow for him. Rabbits like toys they can hide in and feel safe...Duchess got a couple for Christmas. He'll love it.
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The point, my dear, darling Mason, is so that you can do vital things...like remember people's names. [A beat, then she mouths Allison to point out his slip.]
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