PFC Tommy Burgess (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alittlesideways) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxion2012-10-23 12:36 pm
alittlesideways) wrote in ataraxion2012-10-23 12:36 pm
Entry tags:
003; video
[Tommy's been scarce since the fog and rust overtook the Tranquility like a month ago. Sure, he's made appearances on the Network, here and there, but they've been few and far between. Other than that, he's mostly kept to himself, drinking at the bar or holing up in his room. The whole fucked up experience took a lot out of him, made him confront a few things that he'd been in denial about, namely: 1) he's dead and 2) he has a major drinking problem. Unfortunately, revelation number one fed into revelation number two, so...
As usual, Tommy's had a few too many to drink. It's rare that he gets on the Network sober, and today's no exception. He's sitting in his room, guitar propped on his lap, smiling, although it's more sarcastic than anything else. His words are a little slurred-- looking at him, you can practically smell the alcohol on his breath.]
Hey. So, I've been wondering. [He drums his hands lightly on the guitar.] How many of you are dead men walking? Or women, I guess.
I'm just curious. Wanna know how many of us are out there, people who can't go home, because they-- [He stops short, then laughs, shaking his head.] Because they're six feet fucking under.
Let's get a show of hands here. [He raises his. It's worth noting that he's not wearing his wedding ring. Tommy's not exactly on the market-- EVEN THOUGH HE'S SUCH A CATCH-- but he's coming to terms with the fact that he's never gonna see Jeanie again. Well, "coming to terms" with the help of space beer. Tommy drops his hand and plucks at his guitar idly, still smiling that thin, sarcastic smile.]
You know, I'm still not convinced this place isn't hell. [He looks at the camera for a beat, thinking, as if he wants to say something else... then leans forward to cut the transmission.]
[OOC: SORRY FOR POSTING AND RUNNING FOR... THE ENTIRE DAY. My net crapped out very shortly after I posted this, then DW wouldn't let me log in ablhailfhwioho. Tags will commence in the morning once I've had some sleep.]
As usual, Tommy's had a few too many to drink. It's rare that he gets on the Network sober, and today's no exception. He's sitting in his room, guitar propped on his lap, smiling, although it's more sarcastic than anything else. His words are a little slurred-- looking at him, you can practically smell the alcohol on his breath.]
Hey. So, I've been wondering. [He drums his hands lightly on the guitar.] How many of you are dead men walking? Or women, I guess.
I'm just curious. Wanna know how many of us are out there, people who can't go home, because they-- [He stops short, then laughs, shaking his head.] Because they're six feet fucking under.
Let's get a show of hands here. [He raises his. It's worth noting that he's not wearing his wedding ring. Tommy's not exactly on the market-- EVEN THOUGH HE'S SUCH A CATCH-- but he's coming to terms with the fact that he's never gonna see Jeanie again. Well, "coming to terms" with the help of space beer. Tommy drops his hand and plucks at his guitar idly, still smiling that thin, sarcastic smile.]
You know, I'm still not convinced this place isn't hell. [He looks at the camera for a beat, thinking, as if he wants to say something else... then leans forward to cut the transmission.]
[OOC: SORRY FOR POSTING AND RUNNING FOR... THE ENTIRE DAY. My net crapped out very shortly after I posted this, then DW wouldn't let me log in ablhailfhwioho. Tags will commence in the morning once I've had some sleep.]
video ; locked