Late Late Late at night. 2nd Floor Common Room.

Marty stumbled out of room 212 after unsuccessfully trying the meditation techniques that Brenda Chenowith had given him. He knew why it wasn't working. He should have gone to the ceremony tonight.

He decides the best kind of meditation involves a remote control and a TV set with cable.

He plops down in front of the TV and tries to find something decent on.

((Preplayed with Drusilla))

[identity profile] apocalypsesoon.livejournal.com 2005-11-07 05:39 am (UTC)(link)
"I see. Your... involvement, you say?"

John adjusted in the sofa, the better to defend or run away.

((sounds good))

[identity profile] apocalypsesoon.livejournal.com 2005-11-08 12:36 am (UTC)(link)
"And did you?" John's tone of voice was as dead as Kitty's Marty's.

[identity profile] apocalypsesoon.livejournal.com 2005-11-08 04:48 am (UTC)(link)
John waited what he felt was a reasonable time before responding.

"How could you not know?"

[identity profile] apocalypsesoon.livejournal.com 2005-11-08 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
"So what the hell happened? Do you usually black out? Something you ate? Something you didn't? What does Rory have to say?"

Gently, John, probe, don't bludgeon.

[identity profile] apocalypsesoon.livejournal.com 2005-11-08 05:34 am (UTC)(link)
"So either something happened to you externally or internally. Are you prone to frequent bursts of shouting and acting crazy?"

"So Rory just saw the supposed aftermath."

[identity profile] apocalypsesoon.livejournal.com 2005-11-08 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
"Fear gas? I've heard of it, but not what it does."

Could this be what Angelus was talking about?