One way of torture that doesn't involve blood [19/??? artefacts collected]

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Hello, mansion!

How do you feel about an accidental audio transmission featuring this song played on the guitar over and over and over and over again in various qualities ranging from sort-of-okay-ish over mediocre to physically painful?

I hope your answer is 'highly enthused', otherwise Philip's new hobby might not be as entertaining to you as

Comments

1/3

[dashboardlite]

[What is that.]

2/3

[dashboardlite]

[Oh my God. What...what is that?

Is that a horrific rendition of the song that Dean hasn't listened to in two years because it was playing when a Mack truck slammed into the side of his car, hospitalizing him and forcing his father to give up his soul to the Yellow-Eyed Demon in exchange for his son's life?

...Yes. Yes it is.]

3/3

[dashboardlite]

[It takes him a second to calm the fuck down and realize that he's not going crazy, and that it's just some poor bastard killing a cat down the hallway to the tune of CCR's Bad Moon Rising.

Wandering down said corridor warily, Dean pauses by a door. The slaughterer-of-domesticated-felines must be within.

He knocks.]

1/3

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Plink... plink... pli-- Was that a knock?

Philip stops playing and eyes the door warily. He can barely think of a handful of people who would want to pay him a visit at the best of times and those circumstances hardly apply at the moment.

But it's a knock all right, so he puts down the guitar and stands up. ]

Coming, just a second!

[ He stops at the closet, putting his palm on it hesitantly. After a moment's consideration he decides against requestion a revolver... grudgingly.

Unarmed except for a frown he moves towards the door, opens it slowly and-- ]

2/3

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ And his expression instantly brightens when he sees Dean. ]

Hey! I didn't expect you to--

3/3

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ ...And sinks again when Philip in turn takes in the expression of his visitor. ]

Is, uh... is everything okay?

1/3 no just kidding I just felt left out

[itsahotone]

What the hell are you doing?!

You- you mean there is neither a 2/3 nor a 3/3? *single tear* I feel empty and betrayed.

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ By now Philip has a lot of practice when it comes to ignoring voices he doesn't want to hear.

So when Santana replies to his transmission he initially does just that.

Not deliberately, mind, but his practice session is quite loud and he isn't actually expecting company, in person or otherwise. ]

I apologise for toying with your feelings.

[itsahotone]

[Oh god he's still playing. If one can call that 'playing'. Santana will just have to speak up then, won't she? And also snap her fingers impatiently, as if she's actually standing in front of him.]

Hey. Hey, Clapton. Stop raping my eardrums for a second, would you?

I just don't know if I could ever trust your subject line again.

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Oh shut up, Cla-- nowait, Clarence does not sound like an American high school girl. Philip looks around and spots the communication device. The transmitting communication device.

Bummer. ]

Sorry, I didn't--

[ He puts the guitar aside and pulls the communicator closer. ]

I didn't realise this was transmitting again.

[ audio ]

[walkingdesuno]

...Is this supposed to be a song mister? [ this is painful for Conan ]

[ audio ]

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ By now Philip is expecting replies. He forces himself to respond in a cheerful tone. At least the audio hides his grimace of disappointment at the LACK OF APPRECIATION of his noble beginner's efforts. ]

It's... well, it's supposed to be one at some point... when I'm done practicing at least.

[ audio ]

[walkingdesuno]

Is this your first time?

[ audio ]

[sadfreezingbrit]

I started playing a few days ago.

[ Why, Conan, why? Philip had such wonderful delusions of having made some progress. ]

...Is it that bad?