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| Corn Muffins and Baked Beans; They have nothin' to do with this RP. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 4 2005, 08:15 AM (40 Views) | |
| Tiff | Apr 4 2005, 08:15 AM Post #1 |
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Wood grain. Entertaining. The wood grain in question is of a reddish, polished nature, and it belongs to a door. The door we are looking at slowly creeps open, and a rather annoyed and tired-looking Sam Kinloch appears on the other side. She’s holding a slightly larger than normal coffee cup, the liquid inside steaming. She quietly makes her way out into the hall and then turns and shuts the door even slower than she opened it. It makes a click and she moves away. It’s really easy to see that she’s either been sleeping or has been trying to sleep, her hair is messy and all she has on in a really long t-shirt, it hits her about half an inch above her knees. Sam sighs and leans her head against the wall for a second then starts moving down the hall. She passes about eight or so doors, stops and peeks under the one that reads 12 C. Seeming happy with what she saw she stands back up and knocks, then takes a few steps back waiting for whoever it is on the other side to answer. Tier: It’s open. Sam opens the door a crack and peeks her head in. Sam: You… weren’t sleeping, were you? Tier raises his eyebrow, as he’s sitting in a chair, strumming very softly on his guitar. Tier: No… Sam moves the rest of her body inside, which is good, ‘cuz it was awkward for the cameraman to hold the camera up over her head to get a look in. He moves in, too, and shuts the door. Sam: I can’t sleep. You mind if I hang out with you for a little while? Tier: Knock yourself out. Sam: I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you. Tier: *shrugs* Suit yourself. It’d get you unconscious, though. That’s for sure. He plays a few notes on his guitar, which are familiar enough to us… but we can’t quite place it. Sam: I’m hoping this will do the trick. She lifts up her cup before taking a sip. Tier: Mmm. Shouldn’t you be putting an air freshener around your neck, for the sake of others? Sam: It only has a LITTLE valerian in it. She looks for a place to sit and decides on the end of the bed. Tier: So, why the impromptu insomnia? Sam furrows her brow and cocks her head a bit. Sam: You don’t feel it? I figured you would. Tier: Feeeeeeeeel… ? Tier cycles his hand, either imitating a taffy puller or telling her to finish his sentence. Sam: The leyline. Our hotel is situated on a leyline. Tier: Oh. That. Yeah, I feel it. It’s actually a little East of here, but close enough. Sam: Is that why you’re still up, or do you always stay up this late? Tier: It’s only two-thirty. We’re usually training around three or four, remember? Sam: Um… jet lag? I dunno, I was really tired until I got here, and now it’s bugging me, I can’t sleep. Tier: Sorry to hear that. “What it’s Like!” that’s the name of the song. Man, that was gonna bug you all day, wasn’t it? Sam takes a few more drinks of her tea, then makes that after-drink “aahhhh” noise. Sam: Why aren’t we in the gym tonight? Tier: We just got here. Despite my ring name, I’m not an animal. Sam: Ohhh yeah. I forgot. Tier looks at her. Sam: That we just got here. He raises an eyebrow. Sam: This leyline makes me weird! Ah, the loud whining. There should be a word for it, a special word. Tier: You’ll get used to it. Trick is to force it away so you can go on doing your thing. Sam: That’s something I was never very good at. Forcing it away, that is. I’m more like a sponge. Tier: That’s a choice, Sam. Tier continues his strumming a bit. Sam: Not really. I’ve tried to force it away. It’s… I can’t. Tier: Hm. Must just be me… Sam: *shrugs* Chuck could do it. Tier: I didn’t mean I was the only person in the world who-- *sighs* nevermind. Sam takes a few more swallows and sets the empty cup on the floor. Sam: Am I imagining things, or are you kinda moody? Tier: Of all the things I am, I’m not a witch, Sam. Sometimes being compared to your former mentor is annoying, especially since he was so… permissive. Sam looks downcast and sighs very softly. Sam: Sorry… Tier: Don’t worry about it, Sam. Just don’t do it. I’m not the new Chuck, I’m not the new Foley, and I’m not the new Javier. Sam nods. She doesn’t get the Javier thing, but she still just nods. Sam rearranges herself so she’s lying down, head on her knuckles, elbows on the bed. Sam: So. I have a match this week. Tier: Yes, I know. That’s why we’re all in England. Sam: Which I’m gonna lose if I don’t get any sleep… Tier: Yeah, sleep deprivation for one night a full week before the PPV tends to cause instantaneous loss. Sam sighs. Tier observes the sadness. Tier: That was a joke… of sorts. Sam: Oh. Um… haha? Tier sighs, but it’s a partially amused one. Tier: I don’t really have much to speak of, Sam. Sam sits back up on the end of the bed and looks at Tier. Sam: Maybe I should go back to the room and try to get some sleep. Tier: *nods* Good luck with that. Sam stands, collects her mug, stretches, and makes to leave. She turns as she opens the door. Sam: Sorry for bothering you. Tier: No bother. Just… next time you come to chat, bring something to chat about. Sam: I had something to chat about, I just… didn’t know how to get around to it. Tier: There’s always tomorrow. … unless it’s the Apocalypse. Sam shakes her head and leaves as Tier plucks out a few more notes on the guitar. |
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7:06 PM Jul 11