[Lucrecia takes a few gasping breaths, struggling to eke out some words. She sounds more like a bleating lamb than top scientist. Yay for botulism! Feel free to come by her room and mock her. Though she'll mostly sit and glare.]

S'm'ne... help?

Water... ... ... pl'se...

... ... I's... so... hates... Hate.

[There's a nice, bold chuckle that is very unLucy. In fact, it is very unfemale. The newly minted Dr. Lucien Crescent, breaker of hearts and lazy scientific prodigy has arrived.]

So... will the lucky lady I've apparently been sharing a room with mind trading me a few of these skirts for, say, a pair of pants?

I mean, it's not that I'm so selfish as ( Read more... )