Open like the elevator doors in The Shining

[slayer_not_player]

CHARACTERS: John Tillman and YOU
LOCATION: Various
SUMMARY: A WILD TILLMAN APPEARS!
NOTES: Prose or action tags are cool by me
Backdated, presentdated, futuredated w/e w/e
Feel free to harass him in hallways, in the showers, while he's cooking food, or... pretty much anywhere you can think of.

I look forward to playing with you! I'm 'whatuhflamer' on aim and 'queefofchat' on plurk. Don't be shy if you want to plot something out! I'd be happy to start a thread.
herp derp that is all

Comments

[tumbleweeds]

"I'm not," she practically snarls again, though she's all human this time. Not even Crowley's shit, but yeah, okay. It looked fucking weird, maybe, but she wasn't there to talk. "I didn't have much to add. His show, I just get paid to take appointments, throw people out, and look pretty in the ads."

[slayer_not_player]

Unaffected by her defensive tone, Tillman plopped a serving of greens into a bowl and slid it down the counter toward her. The fork that followed clattered quietly, all metal-on-metal. "I can respect a job. I'll keep my nose out of it from now on."

[tumbleweeds]

The bowl is grabbed, as is the fork -- doesn't matter who made it and how grumpy she is with them, outside of obvious poison potential; food is food. She doesn't answer for a moment, stabs a vegetable with her fork harder than necessary and eats. When she's done chewing, though, has swallowed it down, she pauses. Looks up, tilts her head at him, and speaks slowly, like she's trying to suss something out. "You were worried."

[slayer_not_player]

Tillman dishes a second bowl for himself, but he makes no move to eat it just yet. "I was," he agrees. He raises an eyebrow questioningly. Did she find it so strange?

[tumbleweeds]

She doesn't reply for a moment, clearly trying to puzzle this out. No answers come, though, other than what he said about people maybe being drones -- but what did that matter to him, anyway? So she asks. "Why?"