Jack? I don't know if you'll see this within any sort of decent interval, but when you do, please-- I'd like you to check in on Lucy for me. I'll explain more when I see you ( Read more... )

*Enter a young man in his late twenties, looking about rather confusedly. His hair, curiously enough, is white, but that's really the only unusual thing about him. He pauses and loos around once more, then shrugs and speaks.*

This certainly looks nothing like London. Would someone care to tell me where I am?

Typist: Jonathan Harker, from ( Read more... )

She flounces into the room, as per usual; today's ensemble consists of a rather poofy dress and a wide-brimmed sun hat. Cinnamon is perched on her shoulder, of course, wearing a small garland of flowers around his tiny neck.

Pip pip cheerio and top o' the mornin' to ye, my esteemed ladies and gentlepersons! Today is a special day, indeed, 'tis!

( Read more... )

*Enter a young, very beautiful Victorian lady of about nineteen. She's very confused, for the last she remembers, she was dead. And then undead. And then dead again. She isn't certain what she is now, but she is fairly sure it isn't dead. She glances around, trying to place where she is, before uncertainly raising a question ( Read more... )

Is there a doctor here I can speak to?

Please, it's important. A-- a friend of mine, he's rather badly hurt.

My typist has been reading a lot of fanfic recently. Some good, some bad. Some I would like to ignore ever existed. Like one involving Elladan and I and Haldir, Orophin, and Rumil and some BDSM

So tell about some of the fanfics out there involving yourself. Good, bad, or ugly.

Well, it seems like this is the sort of thing it might be a good idea to mention. After much contemplation, I'm reopening my psychiatric practice, and thusly relocating my residence to the asylum at Cairfax. From there I will be operating my practice, as well as providing housing for any of my patients. Not that anyone here is ever going to ( Read more... )

*enters looking confused, distracted and more than a bit panicked* Excuse me...can anyone tell me where I am?

[Typist: And here is Mina Harker. This is a bit after the events of the book, and she's still quite traumatised.]

A very young, serious looking man trips in, awkwardly ( Read more... )

A man arrives at the mansion, dressed in a simple black suit. He carries a suitcase with him, full of all the things he will need until he can arrange to have more shipped to him. His hair is a very pale blond, and his eyes are a light blue.

My name is Pendergast. Would any of you happen to know where I might find a set of rooms for rent?

Typist ( Read more... )