voice of reason in the form of voice test

[vanshrike]

Dear jerkoff,

I've got an idea, too(!) Why don't we try it right now? Here's how it works: you pretend for one minute that any part of what you've been thinking about could be mistaken for something that makes any degree of sense.

...no? Not working out for you?

I didn't fucking think so. Go do something productive and stop wasting my time.

Comments

[hartbreaker]

...

[Says nothing, hands Perry a glass of ice.]

[vanshrike]

[He just irritably waves the offering away.]

I swear to god it's like trying to reason with you, only I get even less out of it in the long run.

Is there a sign taped to my back? 'Idiots congregate here'?

[hartbreaker]

[Too bad because the glass is going to be set on the table anyway.]

Hmm. You know what? I'll look.

[By that he means run his fingers up and down your back, digging in just so at the points of tension. Suddenly, back massage!]

Nope. No sign here. Maybe it's under your shirt, Perry. I should check.

[vanshrike]

[Just because he wasn't expecting Harry to be something approaching considerate of his foul mood doesn't mean he can't take advantage of the situation now that it's presented itself. He tilts his head back, closes his eyes... the very picture of indulgence.]

Might as well, for certainty's sake.

[hartbreaker]

[He was in an oddly charitable mood today. Nothing and everything to do with the previous night, surely. That look of Perry's is distracting, it's too beautiful, but no, he had a task to focus on. His quick fingers disappear beneath the hem of the shirt and continue exploring upwards. Teasing with light touches.]

Well, I did find something...

[Wet coldness at the base of Perry's spine. Illusionist's fingers; too easy to snatch it from the glass just now. Harry moves the cube along the flesh absently. He still hasn't removed the shirt.]

[vanshrike]

[Perry doesn't have time to question what Harry's talking about before coldcoldfucking--]

--fuck!

[He hisses on a sharp, violent intake of breath while reaching back to try and grab at Harry's arm. He's only partially successful, considering the awkward position, at trapping Harry's hand where it's at beneath his shirt. Not exactly forward progress.]

What the hell are you doing!?

[sharpsuitfluffytail]

...And people say I'm the rude one. Nice.

I'd be even more impressed if she actually listened.

[vanshrike]

There's being rude and then there's setting things straight for someone who doesn't seem to understand common sense.

[sharpsuitfluffytail]

A lot of muns seem to have that problem. My own included.

[vanshrike]

As if we don't already have enough shit to deal with, without them.

[sharpsuitfluffytail]

Too true. They just don't understand.

So. What issues are you having? Communication, plot, general insanity?

[vanshrike]

If by "communication" you mean "convincing them to just let it go" then, yeah, we'll go with that.

From what I can tell they're all hung up over the phrase 'must fit the premise' and playing mental racquetball with their perception of the subject.

(Here's a hint for you, mun: if you're so convinced that there's no valid excuse to be found that you're actually afraid to ask for an outside opinion, that probably means you're either right or it's more trouble than it's worth.)

*cough icon keywords cough*

[sharpsuitfluffytail]

"Fit the premise"? Are you... actually serious with that? Just look at the cast list. There's cartoons and Star Wars and robots. I could be wrong, but it seems they take all sorts.

[Including him. Maybe. Eventually.]

[vanshrike]

No, you're missing the point.

I get enough headaches trying to keep a thick-skulled idiot in line on my own time, why would I volunteer to do it as a community service?

[likeaprofessional]

Because if you want something bad enough, you'll pay the fucking price.

Sorry, Fido over there wouldn't know jack shit on this topic. Me? I almost did. The warden gig was tempting as fuck. I didn't take it, I regret that, but we're not talking about me.

[ALL THE ANGST ok. He's not getting his feels all over you. Or his cigarette.]

[vanshrike]

[Welcome to the quickest means of shutting down lines of communication with one Perry van Shrike: getting anywhere close to personal.]

I really don't need anything worth that kind of trouble.

[likeaprofessional]

Calling bullshit on that, man. Everyone's got something they want. Fact you're even thinking about that place, or your mun is, what the fuck ever, then you're bluffing.

But here's the thing. I don't give a shit. I don't want to know your fucking business. Ain't gonna tell you mine, so we're square.

Point I'm making here is: whatever it is, just make sure it's worth going to hell and back because that's exactly what you'll be doin'.