IC Inbox for box_network

[starwhore]

Leave a message or something.

Comments

[barebacking]

Cool? I cannot say since I fear I don't know the meaning of that word. Is that like digging something?

I am Lieutenant Yaha. I was in love with Leonard for some time. Thinking of him made me very happy. And then the feeling went away. But I still wanted to be happy when I thought of him, and him happy in turn. Understand?

[starwhore]

Cool, like good. That's cool. You're cool. I'm cool. Get it? Cool can mean good or okay, sometimes.

[It takes a second for that to set in. Why is this guy telling him this? Why is he talking to him? But yes, he'll actually laugh a little, because this is a bit strange.]

Really? Did you ever manage to make him smile? Because I don't think I saw him smile once while he was here. [Which is fair, cause the box sucks.]

[barebacking]

I see. Cool is good. It sounds funny when I say it. Why does it sound funny when I say it? I'm saying it the same way.

[He sighs and frowns.]

I did. Once or twice. It's easier when you love someone completely and wish only to see them happy and well. I must say that you didn't do a very good job at keeping him happy as he was always worried about you. But he's gone now and will eventually be burned out of me like Jack.

So, now we know the past, let's talk about the future, hm?

[starwhore]

Probably cause you're thinking too much about it.

[Speaking of--]

...

You know maybe I'm not the best person to talk to about Bones. His pals are here, known him a lot longer than me.

[barebacking]

Bones?

I suppose that is what he's become. Bones in our memories. Skeletal workings. Pieces that we remember. A finger that we've put upon a necklace to place around our necks to remember.

But no, I've come to ask you for bullets.

[starwhore]

Yeah, nickname of his. What Jim called him too.

Wait.

Bullets? What do bullets have to do with the doc?

[barebacking]

I never knew. What a sweet name.

[ ... ]

Nothing. They have to do with you. I hope.

[starwhore]

Sure I guess?

Like if I have any? Cause I don't, sorry, man. Kinda gun I use doesn't use normal bullets. Not really bullets at all actually. Pew pew lasers and energy and stuff.

[barebacking]

There are more than one kind of bullet?

Why?

[starwhore]

There are all sorts of guns, man. So there are all types of bullets. Big ones, small ones, itty ones. Some aren't made of metal or copper or what not, like I've got two quad blasters, they use energy and lasers instead, uhhh basically I shoot lightning from my guns.

[How do explain.]

But yeah, depends on what kinda gun you're getting the bullets for.

[1/3]

[barebacking]

[He sent me on a wild goose chase.

He sent me on a task that I could not properly complete.

I should cut out that silver tongue of his and force him to eat it with the bloody mess that is left!]

[barebacking]

[No, no.

I like him very much.

And friendship is more important than punishment.

Isn't it?

Yes.

Probably.]

[barebacking]

Oh dear.

I had no idea. I was about to get my friend something that he may not be able to use.

What an embarrassing situation.

[4/4] SURPRISE DONE

[barebacking]

I suppose it is my fault, anyway.

I didn't think to ask anything beyond that he needed ammo. I hope that whatever I find is something that he can use ... as I'm far too ashamed to bother him, again.

gasp

[starwhore]

Wouldn't it be more shameful to bring the wrong thing though?

[That's right. Use that fancy talk back at him. Saying shameful is not fancy talk, Peter.]

[barebacking]

I suppose it would.

There's little chance that he has that gun and we may not be able to find it.

[starwhore]

Wait so you're trying to find bullets for a gun that might not even exist?

[barebacking]

Even though I have no intention of bedding him, I do want him to like me.

[starwhore]

[This whole conversation escalated very quickly.]

Maybe you should look into getting him flowers? Some chocolates? Write him a poem?

[barebacking]

Flowers are cheap. Chocolates may work. Poetry would not be the best idea. The way that my words weave and dance and play upon the page can ... be a little troubling to others.

I can't imagine why.

[starwhore]

Don't know, man, don't really know you that well. Could always draw him a picture.

Or see what else he likes besides bullets. Maybe go have a drink with him? There's a place up in Northtown, little bar with a pool table, play some pool.

[barebacking]

I fear we have not reached that part in our friendship.

Perhaps, I am trying too hard? Perhaps, it looks like I love him more than -- I don't, you know. If he asked, I would -- pool?

[starwhore]

Haha, I don't know if you're trying too hard, I think you're just thinking waaaay too hard about it. Getting yourself worked up.

But games are a good way of making friends. Pool is fun, even if you don't know what you're doing. Trust me, I'm garbage at it, totally. You use sticks to hit balls into holes on a table. Sounds boring, can be great, especially with a drink or two.

[barebacking]

I do suppose that I am. And it is never good when I get worked up.

[He tilts his head. He imagines just regular sticks and various sized balls that one strikes at the side to hit into holes all around a table. How can one be garbage at such a game?] Well, it sounds fun and simple enough.

[starwhore]

[Very easily, Yaha. So easily. Sucking is easy, being good is hard.]

Simple in theory, but there's a lotta skill to it. Skill I don't have. [Yes, he can admit it. He's a big boy. Sometimes.]

Still, real fun to play with people, no matter how good or bad you are.