chosehumanity | Honolulu Heights, Barry Island, Friday

"...Now this here is your room, isn't that fantastic? I think there's a game of Buckaroo downstairs-- one of the other guests must have left it behind."

"Buckafuckingroo?"

The surly teenager standing before George gave him a look that went beyond disbelief. George, being George (and being rather preoccupied with sorting out the boy's sheets) did not let that throw him off his stride. "Yes," he said, decidedly. "It's a fantastic game for two to eight players-- oh, forget it, I'm just trying to think of things to keep you occupied."

... so yes, George handled it exactly like George Sands would.

"I can keep myself occupied," the little vampire said, sighing, and sat down on the bed.

It took a few moments before that one made it through to George's brain, but as soon as it did, he dropped the pillow. "Oh god, you're a teenage boy, of course you can." Ew ew ew ew ew.

"Hello!"

George had never been that happy to see Annie before.

"Don't you ever knock?" the boy - Adam - said, eyeballing Annie.

"Oh, I don't have to, being a ghost has some perks," Annie said. She had a smile on her face, her hips shifting a little as she spoke.

"Well, not around me, I don't want ghosts popping up all over the place, it freaks me out," Adam complained.

"You're a forty-six year old vampire," George pointed out, taking a moment to eyeball Adam right back, "who dresses like a child. Don't call her freaky."

"Anyway," Annie said, clearing her throat, "I'm just stopping by to see how you boys are getting on."

"Badly," George said.

Adam leaned over and kicked him.

George nearly toppled over, spun around on one foot, balanced precariously on it for several moments before setting it down on the floor and letting go of a belated, "Ow!"

He pointed a finger at Adam. "He just kicked me!" he shrieked. "I-- Annie! Tell him off!"

The look Annie gave him made it clear that this was not the most mature, manly thing she had ever heard George declare, but also that it wasn't exactly in the running for the least mature, manly thing he had ever said.

George sighed. "I need to call Mitchell," he said. "Again. He's still not answering his phone."

"You've left ten messages," Annie pointed out. "Maybe it's time we tried something else."

"Yeah," George said, rubbing the back of his head and giving Adam the stink-eye. "But who else do we know who knows anything about vampires--"

His eyes met Annie's eyes.

"Right," George said, and dashed-slash-stumbled-slash-flailed his way out the door towards the phone.

[[ for he who has been handwavily summoned here, and myself. Parts taken from Being Human 3x01: Adam's Family ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"New life," Jack said in agreement.

He rummaged about the tables, eventually came up with a remote and clicked on the television. For all he'd made fun of George's flailing, he wasn't exactly finding oodles in common with Adam either.

Lucky for him - or maybe not - there was some banging around outside, the sound of keys in the lock and a nervously jittering George heading towards the front door. "It's Mitchell," he called, and lo and overhear, someone stepped onto the mat in the hallway.

Jack stiffened slightly, ran a hand over his hair. "I'm visiting," he called back. "George brought someone home he wanted me to meet."

He figured the rest would be clear soon enough.

"Jack's here?" Mitchell called, and walked into the living room. "Hey, what's--"

His eyes slid to Adam. "...Up."

"This is Adam," Jack said. "His father is in hospital," and he was somehow flattening himself, all but molding into the upholstery as he spoke.

He'd seen vampires meet before, often enough that he knew to be careful. This was not his fight, if there was one, and he had no intention of getting more involved than he had to be.

Adam didn't seem to have any worries of the sort, though, as he quickly crossed the distance between him and Mitchell. "Ahhh, Mitchell," he said, grinning, "Mitch."

He offered up his fist for a bump.

Mitchell gave him an intensely dubious look as he dutifully gave Adam a fistbump.

"This is Adam," George said quickly, even though Jack had already pointed that out. "He's a forty-six year old teenage vampire and he's staying here while his father is in hospital! If we all pool together, this could be an interesting, enriching, and very brief experience..."

"I got called in to babysit," Jack explained, rising a bit now that bloodshed seemed unlikely. "Isn't it exciting?"

"He's not staying here," Mitchell said flatly.

Jack shrugged. "And I'm not making him Kaidan and Ronan's problem on the island."

Well, Kaidan's problem. Ronan would probably be happy to have someone else to feed.

"It's not forever, anyhow."

[OOC: Usual weekend slow, I fear. We're going to go see dinosaurs.]

"Oh god, why are you even talking to these two sad puppies?" Adam interjected. "Because really. You need new wingmen. And I happen to be a registered poon-hound." He jabbed a thumb towards himself.

Mitchell didn't even eyeroll as much as pull his eyes away from Adam and look demonstratively in a different direction.

[[ noooo worries! ]]

"Don't think Mitchell's in the market for that," Jack observed, inspecting his fingernails as a way to feign disregard. "And watch who you're calling a sad puppy, hmmm?"

"Have you ever actually had sex, Adam?" George asked, after another short silence. "You know, proper, balls-deep, sex?" He leaned forward. "You touched a boob? Be honest with me, Adam, have you ever even touched a boob? Because--" he chuckled, "I HAVE! Loads!"

With that, he got up out of his chair and stomped off.

Mitchell stared after him.

"I know that would make my bra undo itself, if I were a girl," Jack said, once he found words again. George's rant required a lot of staring.

Not that he was totally unsympathetic.

Adam shrugged. "Don't know about that," he said, turning to Mitchell, "but I think someone doth protest too much--"

"Don't," Mitchell practically growled, leaning in so he could look Adam in the eye. "Come near me."

Maybe taking Adam to Fandom wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"Mitchell?" Jack said. "Calm down."

Mitchell made an annoyed noise, but he got out of Adam's face and paced towards the bar, where he poked at bottles and switched them around a bit.

This might have been easier if Bo was here; she might understand.

"Hey, hey, Mitch," Adam said, his eyes widening with alarm. "Look, mate-- we're brothers in arms here, okay? I just--- can I have a scotch?"

He took a step towards Mitchell.

Jack drew in a breath, muscles tensing.

"A drink," he said. "And then maybe sort out where Adam will spend the night."

Mitchell held up his hands in a vague gesture meant to ward Adam off.

Adam sighed, and glanced back towards Jack. "Look, you're just the first person like me I've met," he said, turning back towards Mitchell, "Except for the first one and that was... mostly fighting him off. Unsuccessfully."

He was quiet for a brief moment, to see if that worked, then added, "Please. I don't know how to do this."

"Adam, Jack, here's the thing," Mitchell said, turning 'round. "I don't care."

He bustled back around the bar, shifting bottles around.

Jack was almost certain that wasn't true; Mitchell was a lot of things, but he wasn't typically unfeeling. He narrowed his eyes at Mitchell as he tried to figure out what the problem actually was. It couldn't possibly be a rivalry thing, so --

"Are you worried he'll want to hunt?" he finally guessed.

Mitchell reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Jack," he said finally. "A moment, please."

Jack bit his lip, almost certain he'd said the wrong thing, and wandered back behind the bar.

"Sorry," he said in a low voice, and why did everyone in the house have to have supernatural hearing? It made conversations like this much more difficult.

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