thecapitol | where are you?

Who| Shaggy and YOU???
What| Shaggy Rogers fell asleep in the car and now he's not entirely sure where he is
Where| In the D5 suite, Tribute Center Central Commons
When| A couple days before the arena
Warnings/Notes| I'll be assuming Shaggy will have his illusions corrected at some point before the second prompt, also there'll some spoilers for the first season of Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated

[For District Five Only]

"Like, wow," Shaggy says to himself, as he takes in the floor that they'd told him to go to. "This is, like, totally not what I thought military school would be like." He'd expected more tents and helmets and buzzcuts. He brushes a hand over his own Shaggy hair reflexively. Yeah. Still there.

Maybe Scoob's nice farm would be fancy like this? He hoped it would be. Man, he missed Scooby so much already. He missed all of the gang. It really didn't feel right being without any of them.

Oh. Was that a kitchen over there? Yeah. It was. Cool. He'll just mosey on there and see if there's anything to eat.

[Open]

So it turned out that not only did they have a way cool kitchen in that "District" he'd been assigned to, but the Central Commons on the ground floor of this Training Center place also had a really great restaurant too. And because he was one of those Tribute guys, Shaggy was allowed to eat as much as he wanted there free.

So, like, even though most of the rest of this whole Tribute business stunk, the unlimited free food was pretty cool.

Especially now that he had a bowl of clam custard bigger than his head.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah!" Shaggy says. "Like, me and Fred and Daphne and Velma and Scoob, we solve mysteries together. We've been doing it for years. Like, have you heard of us? We get in the papers a lot. Mostly the business section. They like to call us, like, an economic disaster."

"Yeah... from the papers." He's still laughing, but he can actually speak through it now, shaking his head and wiping another tear from his eye. "I know another rag-tag group who do just about the same...thing."

He went from mirthful to frowning in two seconds flat. "Oh Hell." That made him Scooby fricken Doo, didn't it? "I think I'm gonna need those wings, mate."

"Like, no problem." Shaggy starts waving his hand in the air. "Garçon? Bring my pal here some hot wings." He turns back to Spike. "Like, do people get mad at them for it too? What do they call themselves? Maybe we, like, saw them at the Mystery Solver's State Finals."

Wow, he just asked for something and... it happened. Spike tries not to marvel at that visibly, eyes snapping back down to his makeshift napkin bandage. Another piece of evidence that not everyone had to treat him like a dog or a tool or any certain way. This guy... well. He treats Spike like he's a guy, too. Which shouldn't inspire such deep feelings of -- anything; it shouldn't inspire any sort of feeling at all.

"They also go by Scoobies. You should be flattered, right? That whole thing..." Spike waves a hand and slowly trusts himself again to make eye contact. "And if they do it right, no one knows they've done anything at all. So I doubt you've seen 'em at any sort of detective convention."

"Like, we don't actually go by 'Scoobies,'" Shaggy corrects him. "We called 'Mystery Incorporated,' but like that wasn't until last fall. Before that we didn't call ourselves, like, anything. But, like, Sheriff Stone and Mayor Jones always called us 'meddling kids.'" He takes another bite of clam custard. "But, like, Scoob would totally be flattered. When I go home, I'll tell him."

"Right..." He's trying so hard not to laugh. "You, uh. You do that."

"So, like, what's your name?" He's honestly curious.

His nose wrinkles, but then he's shrugging, even as the wings slide across the table. Just like the Bronze, damn. "...Spike."

"Okay," says Shaggy. "Like Spike anything or just Spike?"

where are you?

oh good

>says she's going to quicktag >3 hours later

Re: >says she's going to quicktag >3 hours later

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