(no subject)

[steamologist.livejournal.com]

WHO: steamologist & notquiteidol.
WHERE: NOHoPE.
WHEN: After this conversation.
WARNINGS: British profanity forever.
SUMMARY: K.K. comes to pay Spike a visit.
FORMAT: Para to start, whatever inside.


Hospitals made her uncomfortable. As a teenager, she'd always imagined that if the government caught them, they would have taken her and the other FreakAngels to a place like this, tied them down maybe and put sharp objects through their eyes to their brains, trying to dissect out whatever it was that made them so powerful. Now, in the present, she looked out of place -- heavy boots, wild hair, leather jacket -- dark against the white walls.

She signed in, scrawled her name on the sheet at the front desk, gives up her motorcycle helmet and her knife before they let her in and walk her back to Spike's room. K.K. stood back as the orderly opened the door for her; she let herself in without knocking or any grand announcement of her arrival. Instead, her greeting comes wryly after a moment.

"So, are you fucking decent?"

Comments

[notquiteidol.livejournal.com]

He was decent enough, wearing only a pair of jeans and sitting cross-legged on the floor. K.K. should notice that he is directly in the sunlight streaming through the window. It's a habit he's taken up recently, a subtle reminder of the more pleasant aspects that regaining his soul had done.

"Might be," he replied, slightly calmer and a little more lucid than he had been during their conversation over the communicator. "Not much for decency, but you caught me feeling charitable."

A good dose of drugs will do that when your body actually pumps them through your veins without having to be helped along by a good meal. Not to mention the promise of company that didn't include more crazy people and the staff, not that he could see much difference.

[steamologist.livejournal.com]

K.K. helped herself to a seat on the edge of the bed, watching Spike for a long moment before her eyebrows drew together just slightly. Well, that was new -- as far as she knew, anyway. She could only guess and what had happened, but maybe it didn't really matter. She hadn't been afraid of or concerned about being around him before, she certainly wouldn't start now.

"What happened?" She gestured vaguely at him, at the window. "Didn't think you could that without lighting up."

sorry for the tardiness on this

[notquiteidol.livejournal.com]

"Died and came back to bloody life," he answered, shifting back just a bit so that he can look up at her.

The usual smirk doesn't seem quite able to find its way onto his face, but he's happy to see her.

"Humans don't light up."

no worries, tag whenever you feel like it!

[steamologist.livejournal.com]

It was a predicament, she supposed. Maybe. If she personally lost her powers, it wouldn't be so bad though, to be ordinary. K.K. just exhaled, pausing to blow a stray strand of hair out of her face before responding in that straight-forward way of hers.

"Well, there's one good thing then. You'll be alright." Leaning forward, she added a bit pointedly, "Anyway, now you can enjoy real food, proper." A little pause, before she continued half to herself, "You shouldn't stay in this fucking dump too long. It's depressing, you know?"