33 Apocalypse Ave., Sunday Afternoon
Feb. 2nd, 2014 01:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bitten_notshyJack had physically recovered by the time he stumbled out of bed this morning, but it would take longer to get the screams of dying unicorns out of his mind and the taste of human blood out of his mouth. That's Karla's world, he thought. Always a new adventure. He was glad to know he could force a transformation if he needed to -- but he still wasn't entirely comfortable with what the wolf had done.
He stumbled down the steps and flicked on the TV, clicking through channels at random until he found a movie that promised explosions, breasts, and very little need for thought.
From the kitchen, he heard an unfamiliar young man's voice.
I'm a punk rock prom queen, brown paper magazine....
He stirred from the couch for just long enough to ascertain there was no invader and the singer was the same kind of vision that had been plaguing everyone for weeks, then sank back into his seat.
That was the island for him. It was never going to let him rest.
[OOC: Open to roomies, visitors, or phone calls!]
He stumbled down the steps and flicked on the TV, clicking through channels at random until he found a movie that promised explosions, breasts, and very little need for thought.
From the kitchen, he heard an unfamiliar young man's voice.
I'm a punk rock prom queen, brown paper magazine....
He stirred from the couch for just long enough to ascertain there was no invader and the singer was the same kind of vision that had been plaguing everyone for weeks, then sank back into his seat.
That was the island for him. It was never going to let him rest.
[OOC: Open to roomies, visitors, or phone calls!]
