Oi, Cian!

Are we gonna have a cuppa this century or what? I'm not exactly immortal here.

[yes she's being a brat. also she's still bored as hell and it's ALWAYS a good time for some tea. so humour her XD]

So he's thought about it. And he can bet that after knocking Dean around the way he did the other night, the boy's blabbed about it to whoever might've seen that short transmission. What's there to lose, really? There may be vigilantes and the foolish, but the fact that he didn't kill and drain Dean in itself is a statement that he's not a threat. ( Read more... )

It's relatively late, and Cian's out for a walk. Like it or not, he needs to be around some actual people, both out of boredom and irritating need -- there's something off about this barrage of new humans, and it's making him edgy ( Read more... )

The time had come. Charlotte left John in charge of setting up the bar, giving him only the one request that he have a decent selection of beer, and did the work of dialing up the food. She knew she was going way over board. For all she knew no one might show up, even though she'd gotten a bit of a response to her invite. How could people ( Read more... )

Charlotte sat on the back patio of John's house, shaking her head and chuckling. She also has a nice, large drink in her hand with lots of ice and a little umbrella. Looking right at the tablet camera, she grins. "Hello there, Taxon residents. Charlotte Blaine here. It has become more than evident that something is missing around here. A real ( Read more... )

"I am ready for the injection now, Doctor Hoffman," he'd said. He'd removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeve, and turned away. He'd even felt the needle of the syringe prick his arm.

So, why wasn't he still in his drawing room ( Read more... )

[a sigh that sounds somewhere between bored and indifferent, and the sound of a glass being set down...]

Anything of interest happening tonight, Taxon?

He needs air ( Read more... )

[John's not ready to show his face yet. He knows he's done bad things, even if he still doesn't know what they are.]

How goes the investigation into where we are? I can't just sit around anymore. I can't wait around to see what happens next.

[ooc: Strikes are mumbled, can maybe be made out.]

Asher really wanted to find that dog. He could smell were it had been, but he hadn't been able to locate it. Surely he could use the replicators to get what he needed. He'd call the little Pomeranian Pacman 2.0. And he would do a better job this time of splicing the genes ( Read more... )