Tʜᴇ Gᴏᴠᴇʀɴᴏʀ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
broughtwhiskey) wrote2014-11-25 09:49 am
broughtwhiskey) wrote2014-11-25 09:49 am
♕ 001 spam/text
open spam - anywhere.
[Disoriented is a word for what Philip feels upon waking on the Barge. There's a dull throb of pain in his chest and his head, things he know he should be dead from, and his shirt is still slick with blood. He also recognizes the room he wakes up in with everything where it should be, but he knows it should burned out. The view outside the windows, however, aren't looking out into the streets of Woodbury, but an infinite void. He isn't sure if this is what death is supposed to be like, but he has a feeling it's not because it feels very much alive.]
[He's willing to stay as long as it takes to change and clean the blood off his face, but no longer than that. He doesn't feel particularly keen on lingering in a room with this many reminders right now. Already he's trying hard to not think of what just happened, the large amount of nothing he just left behind once more. He looks for any of his weapons before leaving to find them gone. So perhaps not everything is in its place. But no matter. He can improvise if the situation calls for it.]
[Stepping outside into the hall, he still doesn't know what to make of any of this. but if there's one thing he knows, it's that he needs to get his bearings and so he sets off to learn the layout of wherever the hell he's ended up.]
text.
[Later, after he's had the chance to explore and numerous explanations and perspectives on what this place is, he only has one question:]
How many of you are here?
[Disoriented is a word for what Philip feels upon waking on the Barge. There's a dull throb of pain in his chest and his head, things he know he should be dead from, and his shirt is still slick with blood. He also recognizes the room he wakes up in with everything where it should be, but he knows it should burned out. The view outside the windows, however, aren't looking out into the streets of Woodbury, but an infinite void. He isn't sure if this is what death is supposed to be like, but he has a feeling it's not because it feels very much alive.]
[He's willing to stay as long as it takes to change and clean the blood off his face, but no longer than that. He doesn't feel particularly keen on lingering in a room with this many reminders right now. Already he's trying hard to not think of what just happened, the large amount of nothing he just left behind once more. He looks for any of his weapons before leaving to find them gone. So perhaps not everything is in its place. But no matter. He can improvise if the situation calls for it.]
[Stepping outside into the hall, he still doesn't know what to make of any of this. but if there's one thing he knows, it's that he needs to get his bearings and so he sets off to learn the layout of wherever the hell he's ended up.]
text.
[Later, after he's had the chance to explore and numerous explanations and perspectives on what this place is, he only has one question:]
How many of you are here?
no subject
[Well, this day can't get any stranger, so why not? Philip decides to move on.]
And what about you? What do you go by?
no subject
Just Roderick. [Other names have become irrelevant.] Nice to make your acquaintance. And you're who, exactly?
no subject
[He answers Roderick without hesitation. Not a name he feels he should really have considering he hasn't been that man in what feels like a lifetime ago, but he won't call himself the Governor and Brian is just as tainted at this point. Besides, he knows about the files. There isn't much sense in lying about his name here.]
no subject
[Because fuck if he knows, honestly.]
no subject
Georgia, actually.
no subject
[He's usually better at this. Oh, well.]
Sorry about that. I'm from a little further north. Where exactly in Georgia?
no subject
About an hour from Atlanta.
[Woodbury falls under that category as well. But that's still not something he's willing to think about much less talk about. So, he'll just leave it vague.]
i hope you'll still love me after this tag
We moved around a lot. Military. Which is why I should've known you're a Georgia peach.
i will never love you again
Is that right? Must have been hard moving around like that.
[He does not actually care if it was or was not. It is a hollow platitude and a fairly transparent one at that.]
liar
[A patent lie, but a believable one. A lie for a lie. He doesn't give a shit if Philip likes him; he finds himself intrigued, and he wants to dig a little. So sue him.]
hdu i would never
[It's a believable lie, but they are on the Barge. Maybe if they weren't, Philip might have left it alone. He might have just accepted it at face value even if he didn't really believe it. Maybe he would have straight up believed in it after all. But given where they are, he doesn't exactly get the sense Roderick grew up to be a well-adjusted and productive member of society.]
you would tho
[No just kidding. In no universe. Especially with the way he's grinning at Philip like a fucking ghoul now.]
Sounds like you'd make a damn good dad. All that empathy.
i absolutely would not love you ever again after this tag
I wouldn't know. Never had or spent much time around kids.
[Better to not give him any ammunition. To deny. To lie.]
no subject
[He isn't sure he believes it. Controlled people are so often full of shit. But then, it'd be a weird thing to lie about.]
You're not missing much, honestly. Kids are mostly trouble.
no subject
One of your own or just younger siblings?
no subject
I'm not the paternal type.
no subject
Unfortunate for you if your friend hasn't noticed at all.
no subject
no subject
[Among other things. Sorry, was that too condescending?]