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[littletonoidea]

"This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel of the-- previously of the U.S.S Hephaestus, leave a message and I'll see if I can bear to drag myself away from whatever utterly engaging task I must be doing to not notice my comms--"

BZZZZZZZ

Action | Text | Voice | Video

Comments

[brushoff]

I'll set a new record for 'fastest someone's gotten their face punched in.' Or their heart ripped out again. Either or.

[littletonoidea]

Yeesh. Aren't you supposed to be the heart-breaker?

[brushoff]

Alas, I deal exclusively in metaphors. And pretension, but mostly metaphors.

[littletonoidea]

[In a faux-philosophical, somehow-English voice.]

Ahh, but isn't being a pretentious twat just a metaphor for not knowing what the hell you're truly doing with yourself?

[brushoff]

[ When Dorian responds, it's in the world's most mediocre German accent. ]

That is the wrong accent for psychoanalysis, Herr Eiffel.

[littletonoidea]

[Eiffel audibly shudders at the unpleasant goosebumps that sends down his neck.]

Yeah, but I've had enough of the actual one to last me a lifetime. Here's a fun tip for you Grayson - don't get yourself stuck in a locked space with a mad scientist, especially when they have explicit permission from Canaveral to turn you into their personal science project.

[brushoff]

Oof. This Weird Science nonsense isn't contagious, is it?

[littletonoidea]

Only if you ever need a B negative blood transfusion from me. My plague's injection only, apparently.

[brushoff]

If I need a blood transfusion, something's gone terribly wrong.

[ immortality, baby! ]

I'm assuming your deal involves getting rid of it?

[littletonoidea]

I mean-- yeah, of course. You think I wanna spend the rest of my life being a walking biohazard? Plus if it resurges again I don't think anyone here knows how to save my ass. Only our good ol' personal Rasputin knows what went into me.

[brushoff]

You know, you could ask the Admiral for information on whatever's inside of you. I'm sure he's got a safeguard somewhere, if he tells you what it is, maybe someone here could whip up the fantasy equivalent.

[ Because they don't really have any sci-fi doctors on here, do they. Granted, they don't really have any doctors period, just an ex-con who's exclusively learned on the job and fucking Dracula, but Dorian's keeping that point to himself at the moment. ]

[littletonoidea]

Our doctors are an ex-con and fucking Dracula, what the hell are they gonna do with like- some goddamn sci-fi genome sequence or whatever? Hilbert was the guy who made it and he didn't even know what it was doing, only what it was supposed to do. And apparently it's supposed to be some damn super soldier serum, but all I got was a collapsed lung.

[brushoff]

That's why I said whip up the fantasy equivalent. Fucking Dracula might be able to do some magical bullshit if he knows what the sci-fi nonsense is supposed to do. Magic's stupid like that.