never enough spike

Spike, the blonde Sex God

(rp journal for Spike)

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On a Quest for Peace of Mind
never enough spike
spike_aka_will
'S pissing and lashing a mother outside. Sound woke me, and that ache deep in my bones that seems to stay with me since I burnt up.

Bloody uncomfortable crypt. Shoulda gone to see Red t'night, instead of where I went. At least then I'd be resting in a comfy bed wrapped in warm arms instead of alone.

I heat up a mug of blood, spicing it, sipping it, and walking around the crypt. No good. The cold cuts right the fuck through me, and m'feelin' good'n'sorry for myself. There's only one thing left to do, and I know it.

I head over to the hidden stash of CD's I keep for just such an emergency. My secret shame, the things that can save me from self-pity and despair. I put it on and push the button, letting the sounds wash over me. One of the most perfect collections of purely indulgent new-wave ever made. The Knack, Get the Knack. I let my voice raise and sing and scream along with every memorized word. From the screamers of sexual drives thwarted to the almost sickly-sweet ballads. Heading towards that end I want, I need. The howler Frustrated. I let my body move with that one, thumping my fists and my body against the walls, screaming out everything. I slump against the wall as the last notes fade away, knuckles split from pounding them against the stone. I savor the hot pain for a few minutes before licking them clean and closed. I have to chuckle ruefully at myself. The ridiculous irony of The Big Bad yowling out his soul to The Knack. Well, it worked anyway. Not feeling like a self-pitying wanker, and the exercise has worked out the ache. I tuck it away again, and lay myself back down to rest.

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Oh yesss *purrs,wriggles*

Including a very nice set of impression-molds that we had cast in Amsterdam. Along with the matching moldings. Bring back any memories?

(I'm getting very strange looks from the person on the next computer)

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