002 || Britta Perry || Day 58 || video

[brittanator]

[ Britta's face is obscenely close to the screen, and something about her face looks more angular than normal. She pulls herself back, then quickly dips to grab something and hold it tighter to her chest. Her shoulders are bare, as is... the rest of her. She's concocted a dress made out of Kleenex, but she seems to be struggling with it. ]

WHAT THE EFF?

Who did this! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!

I'm pretty sure these wings are real, okay? Whoever did this? Not cool, dude. Not cool!

And whatever you did with Annie? You'd better undo it right now.

Annie? If you're out there? Come home, okay? I need you.

[ And not just to help Britta find clothes that fit. Britta needs to know her little sister is okay. ]

Comments

[brittanator]

[ Britta looks at him for a moment, deeply suspicious that he is making fun of her, and then snorts. The snort turns into a full-blown laugh before she looks at him - God help them both - with pity. Even if it's still somewhat fake pity. ]

Sorry. I could have just sworn you said you woke up dead and sparkly.

Are you sure the "douchebag" thing is new, though? Because last I checked, facial hair like that pretty much flashes the message of "I'm a douchebag!"

[ As she talks about flashing, she forgets herself and lifts up both hands, opening and closing them to indicate a blinking light. As she feels the beginnings of a draft, she curses and quickly stoops to pick up the Kleenex. She holds it to her tightly, more than a little embarrassed. ]

Um.

So.

Sparkly, huh?

[manofiron]

[ In an effort to prove that he isn't a douchebag, at least all the time, Tony heroically doesn't stare at the skin the falling tissue reveals.

It's also possible that his self-control at not being a horndog comes from that pesky being dead thing. ]

Trust me when I say I look worse without the facial hair. I mean, I could shave it off, but I don't think you're prepared for that kind of horror.

[ At least he's not offended. And to explain the sparkle, he leans into the sunlight and holds up the camera, letting her get a glimpse of his diamond-like skin. ]

Sparkly.

[brittanator]

Whoa.

Are you cool with being mined for parts?

[manofiron]

Uh. No. I kind of need my parts. All of them.

[ A beat, and he adds with a shrug; ]

Maybe I'll pry a fingernail off if you really want one.

[brittanator]

[ Britta grins. ]

Um. I'm flattered?

But I really think you should keep those.

So I'm- I don't know if this is PC or not - but I'm pretty sure I'm a fairy.

[ Her jaw drops, her eyes widening. ] Do you think I can grant wishes? No. No, Britta. Don't be silly. Fairies can't grant wishes. Can they? Pssh. [ She waves the thought away even though her grin clearly says she'll be trying later. ]

So what are you, Mr. Sparkly Diamond Man?

[manofiron]

Like a—A tinkerbell fairy? Fairy dust, "I do believe in fairies, I do, I do," all of that? Really?

[ Well, that explains being small enough to wear a tissue, doesn't it? ]

Technically, I think fairies can grant wishes. Cinderella's fairy granted her wish to go to the ball and meet Prince Charming, right?

And as for me, I'm an emo fanfic vampire.

[brittanator]

I don't believe in fairies, though! [ Her wings twitch in agitation, and she looks over her shoulder to see what just moved before looking back at the camera. ]

Well.

Um. So! Got any wishes, Mr. Emo Fanfic Vampire?

[manofiron]

I didn't either. But I'm guessing our opinions don't matter on this one.

I'd like a self-refilling glass of scotch that never runs out. Can you make one of those?

[brittanator]

Uh, yeah. I used to go absolutely crazy back home with drinks. I'm totally your girl.

Except for the magic stuff. I don't know how to do that. I can try, though! A never-ending supply of liquor would definitely be cool. Mos' def'.

[manofiron]

I think if I've got a wish, that'd definitely be it. Especially here. This place would drive a nun to alcoholism in a week.

[brittanator]

Ha! I think I'd try to make an unlimited supply of weed, too. Why not, right? No cops!

[manofiron]

If you manage that, can you give me a little of it? I know a guy who'd probably appreciate it.

[brittanator]

Deal.

I mean, this place? We need weed. It should be mandatory. Like a freebie for putting up with the kidnapping crap.

[manofiron]

When I find the complaint department, I'm totally including that in the write-up I give them.

[brittanator]

I'm already on the twelfth draft of my letter. It's gonna be such a doozy, I swear to whatever entity or lack thereof you choose to believe in. It's gonna make them wet themselves!

[manofiron]

I hope there's a section in there about having appropriate clothes on hand. Somehow I don't think tissues really cut it.

[brittanator]

Right?

And I can't fit kids' clothes, and Barbie clothes are too small. It's, like, do they even know what modesty is? Because this? This is not conducive to it.

[manofiron]

Tell you what. I'll make you some. They won't be designer quality, but they'll be better than a Kleenex.

[brittanator]

Really?

[ And guess who just became her favorite person here! ]

That'd be great! Definitely.

I guess I'd better get started on the weed.

[manofiron]

I'll bring them by tomorrow morning. How's that sound? I don't sleep, so it gives me something to do besides stare at the shadows all night.

[brittanator]

That sounds great! I'll go look for some weed! [ Britta's pretty good at finding it, if she says so herself. ]

And hey, if you see someone who looks like a doe-eyed, brunette Disney princess who answers to the name Annie, could you let me know? She's our roomie, but none of us have seen her since this started.

[manofiron]

You bet. I'll keep an eye out.

See you tomorrow.