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[fangool]

FUN GHOUL
VOICEMAIL/IC CONTACT



[ "Fun Ghoul's voicemail. Leave a message, kids." ]

Comments

[gloryisbullshit]

[He takes his time, too, one eye on Ghoul as he redresses, watchful for missed injury, anything wrong. Ghoul seems deadened still, not as strange as before but...exhausted. Looks better though, Party decides as he peels out of his wet clothes, looks better clean. He lays his stuff as flat as he can and wiggles into whatever Ghoul has around. Feels like living in a sleeping bag, everything a little too big. It's cool though. Smells like Fun Ghoul, so that's...cool.

[His hand slides around Ghoul's side, and Party creeps onto the bed behind him, sitting up to scratch gently along his back.] ...Gonna be able to sleep?

[fangool]

[Nothing wrong, just a sort of tired that comes from being emotionally and physically worn out, from a panic attack and from watching someone bleed out in your arms. Ghoul's got extra sweatpants and sweaters and they do all smell like him, and now they'll smell like Party, which makes him somewhat happy, in the back of his mind.

For now, he sinks back into Party's touch, shaking his head.] No. [He says truthfully. A beat. Something occurs to him. Dully:] The Girl's dead, too.

[gloryisbullshit]

[The hand at his back pricks up. He chokes.] --What.

[fangool]

She's dead. [He mumbles, pressing his face into the bed.] Died in her sleep. S'happened t'me before. [He doesn't say she'll be back, because he doesn't know.]

[gloryisbullshit]

[Same as happened to Ghoul. The news...doesn't surprise him. Sours his stomach, shuts up his ability to soothe, but doesn't surprise him. Wordlessly, Party slides to lie down at Ghoul's back. He wraps an arm around Ghoul's stomach, the other folded tightly against his back. He should feel Party's breath slow through his shirt.]

...What about the body?

[fangool]

[Ghoul holds onto Party's arm, with a soft sigh. He can feel Party's breathing, feel him steady.] Buried. [He tells him, face still against the sheets.] Wanted t'burn it, but there weren't the right tools.

[gloryisbullshit]

...Okay. [She'll come back. Ghoul did. That's how it works here. He knuckles into Ghoul's shirt.] You didn't tell me.

[fangool]

[A beat. He exhales shakily.] I ain't been sober.

[gloryisbullshit]

[He laughs harshly.] What, I wouldn'ta knocked back with you?

[fangool]

[Ghoul snorts.] Nah. I just keep forgettin' you're real. High don't help that.

[gloryisbullshit]

Yeah, well, you shoulda said. What're you smokin up anyway, G, they shillin you something at that sketchyass trade booth?

[fangool]

I shoulda said. [He agrees.] They ain't shillin me nothing. [Because he stole it. Mostly he's glad Party hasn't found the BLI meds he's got stashed - mostly he's surprised Party hasn't said something. It's been a while since he's binged this hard.]

S'just coke. Don't worry 'bout it.

[gloryisbullshit]

[He had no idea how much of a binge it was. But it's starting to come together now. Party pushes up on one arm, frowns down at him.] If you ain't buyin, where's it from? How much? How often?

[fangool]

[Oops, there are the questions he as just wondering about. Ghoul wrinkles his nose. Lies, easily enough:] Not much. Not often. Like I said. Don't worry 'bout it.

[gloryisbullshit]

Ain't worried, I wanna know. [He grabs Ghoul's shoulder, shakes it as if he's asleep.] G.

[fangool]

[Ghoul shakes his hand off, muttering something rude.] It ain't nothing. S'my answer.

[gloryisbullshit]

Uh-uh. [Fine, he won't touch, asshole. But he'll lean over, hang like a fucking canopy, even if he's gotta prop himself over Ghoul with both hands.] Not much. Not often. Which is why the fuckin snowball'a blow I found on you before?

[fangool]

[Ghoul sinks down further into the bed, glaring up at Party.] M'a goddamn adult, Party, quit babysitting.

[gloryisbullshit]

Oho, no.

[He knows. Ghoul knows. They've been here a million times too--defensive, sneaky, lying--just never been here in hell. Party shakes his head.] We're not doing this here.

[fangool]

I ain't doing anything. Leave it, Party Poison. [Full name, a defense mechanism, like bright and toxic warning colors.] Don't start.

[gloryisbullshit]

[It's already started.] Where you getting it from? From fucking--Glen and M--What else are you on?

[fangool]

Nothing - it weren't them. [Ghoul pushes at Party, trying to get out from under him, off the bed.] I stole it. S'mine. S'my decision, so leave it.

[gloryisbullshit]

No-- [Not always stronger or faster, but he has the advantage here. Ghoul tries to squirm away, and Party's hands cuff around his upper arms. Shifting one leg over his waist to pin him down, Party shoves him back down against the mattress.] --don't run away from me. Don't. You can't do this again, not here, not anywhere! Fucking shitting up yer own veins when you can walk out the door and die, what's wrong with you?!

[fangool]

[Immediately, Ghoul's trying to kick Party off - he's not okay with being held down, not like this. Makes him panic.] It don't matter. You come back, everybody comes back, death don't matter! [But it does, it really does, and no, not everybody comes back. His breath stutters again.] Could throw myself off a building and who would care - you? Just you.

S'cheap. We come back, and s'like it never even happened. It don't got a reason, it don't even need a cause, it just happens, sometimes, you sleep and you wake up a week later in a fucking grave.

It don't matter here, it's suicide t'care, here, so I don't.

[gloryisbullshit]

Well you better fucking start! [Hold still, just hold still, he twists into Ghoul's hair, not sweet or anything just fucking stop--] I'd care, is that not fucking enough?