driftfleet | video but mostly audio (LEAVE THE KIDS AT HOME WE WERE NSFW)

[Happy V-Day, everyone! Sam has been unfortunately busy this weekend. You know, working at the bars, getting convinced by certain stoner semi-angels to partake in a quick bar-hop. Or three. Or five. Also, what the fuck was in that Space Race drink? Because he felt just fine after the first hour, but then he went down like a sack of potatoes.

The black screen leaves a lot to the imagination, so far. Sam gives a tired, hungover groan and slaps around for the built-in alarm he'd set in the communications device, which is probably murderous on your guys' ears at first. When he grabs for it and peers to look at the time listed, the broadcast gives a good look at him in all of his glory -- who knew someone could have so many hickeys at once?]

Wha...

[He stares up at the ceiling, blinking wearily. This isn't... the ship...

But surely nothing crazy happened, he thinks. Just drank a little too much. He's usually super chaste and all, and it's not like he'd...

And then three blue arms reach out from the right side of the bed, curling over his chest.]

Awake already, gangly human...?

[And another copper-skinned arm reaches to pet his hair from his left. A few interesting memories resurface from the night before.]

Surprisingly durable to make up for your poor tolerance to alcohol, mmhmm.

[Sam's eyes widen rather comedically as he shoots up from the bed, dropping the video feed flat on its face again. The sounds of him shuffling back sounds close to the microphone, and there are quite a few giggling ladies, and it really makes you wonder how many are actually fitting in that bed. Judging from the way Sam is tripping over his words, he's probably floundering. Let your imaginations be your guide.]

Jesus -- what the -- I, um, sorry. I -- Wow, right. I should, should really be -- ohmygod, uh. You guys were all great, seriously, but I... Have a shift in three hours... I should...!!

[More giggling at the sound of rustling pants.]

Wow, Sam, you've gone so red; I didn't know humans could change colors! What a fascinating species.

[One of the human girls in the crowd laughs aloud.] Nah, he just goes from animal to nervous school boy in one morning flat.

Thank you for your time, ladies--

Don't you want to stay for breakfast? I know how to make pancakes!

That's really nice but--[He's just about now realizing that the feed is going, and he's too distracted to notice that he's about to trip right over someone's body on the floor.]--OOF!!

[The video THUDS, pointing at a wall. This is the most PG feed detailing a NC-17 night ever. A familiar voice -- the source of Sam's tripping -- smacks his lips while a background cacophony of the gals and guys littered around the room gossip and giggle and exchange ship names. Sam is dumbstruck.]

How many people are there?!

Ah. Morning, Sam.

Cas!?

Slow your roll, buddy, there's plenty of time for round two and three--

Ugh... Not this again...

--or four or five...

M'gonna be sick...... What was in that Space Racer...

[This is the worst.

Happy Valentine's Day.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[she nods, and her smile comes back a bit, though lacking the teasing edge from earlier]

Everyone's a bit reckless now and again. Just so long as it was you doing what you wanted to be doing...at the time, at least. [the last bit could either be joking or sympathetic, a verbal nod to how brilliantly red he'd turned, but she still means it.

She doesn't know his past. Hasn't got a clue. But she knows what it is to wake up somewhere you never meant to be...and knows better than most that victims weren't always mean tiny, sad-eyed, and meek. Drunken nights were a bit more gray-area than some drug-induced hazes, but only a bit.

Don't worry, Sam. The uncomfortable concern will pass once she's sure you're just humiliated by your public display.]

[He tries for a slight smile. He appreciates it, really. He doesn't want to talk about this section of his life, but. He shoulda' thought about that before he got into such trouble this morning, obviously.]

I think I was, yeah. I don't know. I'm still trying to figure that out.

My job doesn't leave much room for... this sort of thing. I mean, I don't go out much like that either. I don't know if I would have... Gone to this extreme...

[GOD WHAT DID I DO.]

But it wasn't... so bad?

[He's so ashamed to admit that. God, shoot him. Put him out of his misery.]

[and that does get a laugh]

You really didn't take any half-measures.

[way to jump in with both feet, Sammy.

But for all the teasing, she catches that look at the end...the uncertainty of not knowing if it was okay to like something that should be likable. It wasn't the carefree acceptance she would have hoped for anyone...but it's a familiar worry. It's not the kind of morning-after-regret she had been worried about.

So she eases away from the seriousness, even if she doesn't lift the private filter. After all....he seemed like he'd had more than enough revealed to the world this morning]

And they've made you pancakes...so they must have figured you weren't so bad, either.

[...of course, moving away from seriousness might mean a bit more teasing.]

One upside. At least they like me. I could have gotten thrown out a window or something.

[He's trying to be light about it, at least.

This sure beats Dean awkwardly finding him in the back seat of the Impala with Piper.

By miles.]

Do people usually try to throw you out of windows?

... It's been an issue in the past.

Just not with people who'd sleep with me.

[He laughs at the thought. Wow, his life.]

I mean. Usually. But I've had a few, uh. Significant others with tempers.

video but mostly audio (LEAVE THE KIDS AT HOME WE WERE NSFW)

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