Dec. 6th, 2014

badgerms: (❂ you are every bit a soldier)
[Open spam for Level 8 and around the Barge]

Cut for length )

Snafu walks along the corridor because what the hell else is there to do? He's covered in grime and blood and sweat, scrapes and scratches all over his hands and arms and face, barely registering the ache and sting of the sores on his feet with every step. His lips are cracked and torn up from lack of water. He takes the stairs up from Level 8 and everything and everyone he sees just makes dreaming seem like the only explanation.

Of course, after he talks to some people and finds out the truth - and hell, after a little convincing, he can believe dying, even if this ain't exactly what he ever expected to find waiting for him when he finally caught a bullet - he starts to explore more earnestly, making his way through the ship, ending up at different times smoking on deck, gulping down a hell of a lot of cold water in the dining hall and hovering at the door to the infirmary eventually.]


[Voice, added some time later]

[The feed clicks on and there's a pause that goes on just a little too long before Snafu says anything. His voice is a thick Louisiana drawl, coming out lazily and uncaring.]

Nice fuckin' set-up for the afterlife. Ain't anythin' close to what I expected.