rudolphofvamps: (go on then)
[Spike blinks his eyes open, not entirely surprised he isn't sure where he is. Maybe that says something about him as a person, but mostly it says something for how hard his life is. Rubbing at his eyes until they focus, he's met with a splitting migraine as he tries to sit up. Is that ... Fischer on the couch? And everything's destroyed. He's glad he doesn't have plastic to be liable for this mess.

... Yeah. That's a chicken.]
rudolphofvamps: (80s date outfit)
[Spike feels like .. knocking on Robert's door. Surprisingly it's only about 8 PM, mostly because he doesn't have any awareness of timezones and not out of any conscientiousness on his part, but still. It's kind of refreshing, right?] Robbie, you home? [Yeah, he's not waiting for an answer. Spike's barging in, going to sit on Fischer's couch when he doesn't see him. He's also going to light a cigarette and kick back while he waits for Robert to emerge, nonsmoking room be damned.]
rudolphofvamps: (80s date outfit)
[Spike's just kicking back, watching Desperate Housewives. Like a boss.]

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rudolphofvamps

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