You want to change?

And for your information, I married that. And ~~loved~~ ~~love~~ ~~loved~~ love her.

From:

I would've married him in a heartbeat had the opportunity presented itself. I just died first.

Good for you--you have very good taste. Of course, I might be a little biased...

From:

Well, that's a fucker right there. Sorry 'bout that.

Can't say I can pass comment on yours. Not into beards. Or blokes. Or...those hunks of metal.

From:

Thanks; so am I. It's gotten easier to deal with over time.

They're what's left of a crashed plane. We sort of...crashed onto an island, where we were stranded. Anything else I tell you would be a little hard to believe.

From:

...That'd explain the dying bit, right? At least there was a big ol' hot man on that plane for you to fuck around with?

Not that it makes up for y'know, crashing into a fucking island, but hey.

From:

I object to the terminology, but the time I spent with him there was actually better than my normal life.

I stayed alive for about two months. Had I not been murdered, I like to imagine we'd still be together.

From:

Everyone objects to my terminology. ...that must have been one shitty normal life. Two months on a desert island topped off by murder?

Either that or, yeah, you were probably both pretty fucking great together and you're right on the last point.

From:

Yeah, it was rather shitty...and we were also pretty great together.

What about you and your wife?

From:

Well, there's fucking that.

...We were fucking brilliant until she took a hit out on me.

From:

...you're kidding, right?

From:

Actually kinda wish I was.

This is pretty much what happens when you share a fucking drug dealing business with your wife. Doesn't always fucking work like it should.

From:

I'm so sorry, Paddy. Did it...is that how you ended up here?

From:

It's alright. I know how I got to that point. And, to be fair, I took one out right back at her.

But nah, that's not how I died. We... sorted that one out.

(no subject)

From:

thatlibbychick.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-05-18 12:47 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From:

christ-onabike.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-05-18 12:52 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From:

thatlibbychick.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-05-18 12:57 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From:

christ-onabike.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-05-18 12:58 am (UTC) - Expand

From:

[Ruby is not answering this because she's avoiding everything. Feel free to spam.]

From:

[Libby isn't standing for that, Ruby. TALKING IS KEY. So she heads over to Ruby's room and knocks on the door.]

Ruby, open up.

From:

[Ruby is lying in her bed. Not getting up.]

Go away.

From:

You know that's not going to happen, so we have two options. Either you let me in, or I let myself in. I'm pretty sure I can kick in a door if it comes to that.

From:

Have fun with that.

From:

[Libby sighs. Why does Ruby need to make this difficult? Does she think Libby's calling her bluff? Well, time to step it up then.

Libby's not as young as she once was, but she's just as fit, and her first kick lands solidly beside the doorknob, shaking the frame. A handful more, and she'll be in.]

Should I keep this up, or have you come to your senses?

From:

[...holy crap.

...

Okay, she likes her door so she's gonna open it. Not that she looks happy about it.]

I don't wanna talk about it.

From:

[Libby smirks momentarily.] Thanks for the hospitality.

[And now she's all serious, because really, the smirk was only there because she knew she'd get in, one way or another.]

Look, you know that I try to respect your need for space whenever I can, but we need to talk about this before you have a chance to bury it.

From:

No, we don't. I'm perfectly fine with burying it right now.

From:

You may think you're fine with it, but it would only make things worse for you down the line.

[She gestures towards the room.]

Are you going to let me in, or do I need to get creative again?

From:

[She reluctantly steps back a little to allow her warden room to enter.]

From: