[There's a soft snort as he focuses on his communicator. Different voices, different languages, a few that he's actually fluent in. And then there's the occasional video, complete with scenery that's decidedly not -here-. ...That better not be a Gamestop in the background.]

This is the kind of shit you need popcorn for. Anyone got some?

[Either way, Matt's lighting up and settling in, determined to absorb as much of it as he can.]

((OOC: do it!))

It's really there... Meat. From animals that I recognize. Or would have before they were stuffed into other animals and deep fried to golden unidentifiable perfection. Christ, I wonder if this feeling means I'm being unfaithful.

Who has the giblets to fight me for the wishbone?

You know what that place was missing? Two hundred clowns with butcher knives piling out of a Volkswagon. Why do we get all the freaky shit?

Locked to the Task Force

Hey, anyone know the ammo situation? I'm running kind of low.

Now that I think about it, what's the situation in general? I'm gonna be pissed if I'm still walking around at night for a team that doesn't even exist anymore.

( Locked to Mello )

Some people are just like bad pennies. Keep turning up. No names mentioned.

The only difference is, roll up enough bad pennies and you can buy yourself a pack of smokes. Sure, the cashier doesn't like it but they get paid to count 'em out. That's what they get for having a real job. That shit would never happen to me.

Anyone suddenly need a drink? My android...I mean, barkeeper stocked us up.

( Locked to Mello )

Shit. Might be awhile before Winchester starts bringing home the bacon again. A guy can only live off the residue of chocolate wrappers for so long.

I've got one bullet with dinner's name on it. If anyone wants to come along and shoot seconds, be my guest. Gonna try to not make this a habit though.

Not normally much of a promoter. If it was left up to me, everyone in the bar would probably die of thirst. But if you miss the tricks and treats of Mazikeen and Ainsley? Don't blame me.

Just don't get too rowdy and tear the place up. Still missing one hell of a carpenter elf. And Elena will start to nag and no one wants that.

Then again, she might enjoy the show. Let's shoot for that instead.

Mello...I guess pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.

Oh, and spare me the 'we've got bigger things to worry about right now' speech. Everything's made a little better by watching a blonde shed some clothes. Trust me on this.

( Locked to Mello )

Know how you know when you've been here too long?

When you have all you can eat of your favorite food, cooked perfectly, and you still catch yourself thinking that Aaron's cooking is better.

Seems like our resident cougar is gone too now, huh. How many of us does that leave on the Task Force? Two? Three?

Shit.

Least I finally got my hands on Shangri-La. Anyone wants to see 'em, they're framed on Thorn's wall. Hey, Ada Wong's panties are legendary. Can't take all the credit though. Elena, thanks for keeping her distracted while I grabbed them.

Think you know what I mean.

But I'm kinda hoping you don't so I can give you the play-by-play.

Need to keep score of how many times this place goes insane.

Thorn has a few vacancies, if anyone needs shelter. Any fucker who's been put through the door need not apply. Nothin' personal.

Locked to Diana
Elena and the younger Winchester are batshit right now. In fact, after some of the rumors I've heard, I'm not letting Dean in either. Dain's...disappeared, so it's just us. Watch yourself.

So I'm right about two things. This really is hell. And hell really doesn't want me.

[A sharp, pained intake of breath]

Shit. Someone put a blond in a nurse's uniform and send 'em my way.

Here we go with the hunting and getting ready for winter again. Bet Handsome's got a wench in each hand to keep him warm.

Shit. Elena, Diana, Ada. Roll call. That golden bastard better not have any of my DoorMatts.

Shit. I might as well dye my hair white and start playing with dolls.

Elena, you climbed that tree yet? Would say that I'd send Winchester to give you a boost, but he's probably out picking wildflowers.

I don't normally play "Welcome Wagon." Hardly seems worth the effort when the faces around this place practically chance on a fuckin' daily basis. But I'll make an exception this time, because a couple of you newcomers are special.

Don't show up and start making life harder for the people who make my life easier. If I have to post a fuckin' list, I will. But when you start doing that, I have to put down my game or stop looking through Elena's panties and do something.

There's only room for one thorn in this place's golden ass -- and that's me. I've been through serial killers, giant rats, zombie rabbits... Fuckin' earned it.

So welcome to World's End. Either keep your ass in line or don't let the door hit it on the way out.

(His tone changes, a hint of amusement coloring Matt's words now.)

Took the initiative, slipped in a little 'Protect and Serve.' What do you say, Handsome? That has to deserve a promotion.

Locked to L -- Unhackable

You know, right?

(The sharp sound of a gunshot, narrowing it down to only a handful of people before he even speaks.)

Fuck you. You're not him.

Hey! Is anyone in trouble out here? Someone better make this shit worth leaving the loft.

The fuck do I have to be Juliet? Shakespeare didn't even write his own shit anyway. Dain, anyone asks you to build a balcony onto Thorn? Shoot 'em.

Never doubted that Elena knew how to work a pole, though.

Sunlight. Heat. Beaches.

Took me awhile, but it looks like I've finally arrived in hell.

Yeah. Everyone who got mixed up in the whole "bad twin" thing...sorry. I heard he promised everyone a party though. So let's do that. Dain, feel free to stick around. And it's okay to wear a shirt. Really.

The motherfucker stole my lucky boxers though. The ones with the pink flamingos on 'em? There's a reward out for their safe return. I have pictures if you need them.

That reminds me. I don't know who these belong to or how he got them. But my wall thanks you.

If anyone needs me, I'll be busy with Donkey Kong.

Locked to L/Unhackable

How are you?

Locked to Mello/Unhackable

Thanks for the gun.

((OOC: If some girl or Alfred would like to claim the panties, feel free. 8) ))

((There's a sharp gasp, followed by a groan of pain. But the physical is forgotten as soon as Matt becomes more aware and starts to remember.))

...The fuck!

Someone fuckin' untie me!

((In spite of the obvious pain that he must be feeling, his true fear and rage can be heard in the following three words:))

He's got L!

At first, only the sound of Matt's voice is heard, alarmed and louder than it normally is because of it.

"Aaron! Stop! Fuck, don't make me--"

The sentence is cut short by a gunshot, close enough to the communicator to make it crackle and go out. The video feature kicks in several minutes later.

Matt is shown from the waist up, bare-chested save for a few scraps of fabric that were presumably his shirt. It might take a few moments to recognize him. His condition is...well, he's been called a liar. But pictures don't lie.

His bottom lip is split in an obscene way, hanging open like something that's been unzipped and revealing teeth that are stained pink with blood, darker lines of red highlighting each individual one. There are gouges across his forehead, like someone or something tried to literally rip his face off.

As bad as his face looks, it's his arms and torso that have taken the worst of it. Without a shirt it's more obvious that Matt isn't just skinny, he's almost delicate. Strips of skin have been torn away, leaving the flesh an angry raw red. The ribs that are just visible beneath the skin, the curved lines of them broken in places. One even pokes through the skin. The basic act of breathing is an erratic struggle for him. One side of Matt's chest lifts a little higher than the other with each breath, the good lung compensating for the injured one. This wasn't a random attack. This was personal.

Matt's eyes finally open, a bright blue that shouldn't be hidden behind goggles or ringed with bruises the way that they are now. They're cloudy, but they focus on the camera and narrow with unabashed hatred. Those who really know the redhead know how he really is -- for better or worse, defiant until the very end. And this is the end.

His lips move weakly, but without the sound it's nearly impossible to make out the words. Without warning, his pupils expand until there's only the tiniest ring of that blue. His broken chest rises, falls, and doesn't rise again.

The video times out, outlasting its subject. No one can hold their breath that long.

((OOC: This post comes with its very own theme song...cause it's funny to me. XD; ))