yourunichase | 44.-Accident voice post.

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44.-Accident voice post.

[There' a little click followed by the sound of satin sheets rustling and then a small, hopeful, sleepy voice.] Tommy?

[A little pause and then there is a large gasp before Parker starts yelling and raging and...sounding tearful?.] NO! No you have got be fucking kidding me. No. Damn it, I fucking got shot for my fucking father wasn't that enough?

I don't want to fucking be here anymore!

Damn it. Damn it. I want...

[Parker had gotten up to pace at this point and then she found the letter from Paddy.] No. Fuck you.

[And then a crunching sound as Parker threw the new communicator thing against the wall.]

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I was wondering where you'd fucked off to.

Sorry you got shot, that has to suck.

[Sorry Denise, she's not answering you; she's trashed her room and heaped on the floor.]

[FUCK, that just means more work for her. Grumbling, Denise approaches Parker's door and pounds on it.]

Open the damn door, Parker.

Edited 2010-05-25 00:02 (UTC)

[Muttered.] Go the fuck away, Denise. I don't want to fucking see you.

I will bring my skates and splinter a hole in this fucking door with them, so help me. And then, I will climb through that hole and beat you senseless for not getting off your ass for two seconds to let me in.

[And they're the heavy-duty kind of ice hockey skates, too. They can get the job done. She's not mentioning yet that she also literally has a sledgehammer next to her bureau.]

It's not even fucking locked. I thought fucking doctors were supposed to have fucking brains.

[Parker was sitting on her floor, wearing a red flannel shirt over a black nightgown. She had the collar popped towards her chin and she was staring at a stained glass portrait of herself with the heart missing. Her eyes were rimmed red, but oddly enough her room did not smell like smoke and Parker herself was not smoking. There was something balled in her fist.]

Kiss my ass, Cathy.

[She doesn't say it unkindly. Opening the door, she sees Parker dressed in the worst outfit ever, looking at a piece of stained glass art. She walks over and crouches next to her, and sees the glass!Parker's heart is missing.]

Wow. That? Is pretty twisted.

[Parker was too upset even to respond to being called Cathy, though it would be stowed up for later. For right now she just kept staring at the place where her heart should be. When Denise said it was pretty twisted, Parker snorted, but she pulled the worn shirt closer around her.]

Ya fucking think? Jarod left it for me at the cemetery after my fucking fiancée was murdered by the Centre, and then they killed three innocent people to fucking cover it up.

Spam.

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yourunichase - 2010-05-26 04:42 (UTC) - Expand

Hey, I -

If you need, er - someone to yell at, or a punching bag, I don't know, I mean, or normal things, like a hug. Or to talk to someone.

I mean, I just. Can I help you?

I don't fucking hug.

And the only thing you can do is tell me how to get the fuck off this heap.

What do you do to feel better? We can do that. I mean - as long as it doesn't involve blowing people up, or anything.

Uh. Reform, I guess? Other than that, I... don't really know.