One of God's children

Mitchell practically had to shove his way into the coroner's office, with Daisy so hot on his heels. Sure, he was willing to track down what the hell had happened, but she didn't need to be so fucking pushy - this really wasn't a massive conspiracy.

"Quinn?" he called. "We need to talk about something."

( Eric was content to stay in the background... )

[[ nfb, nfi, and ooc-okay. Taken from Being Human 2x07. Warning: npc death. preplayed with the epic texted3times. to be continued, dum dum dum duuum. ]]

At a table in a diner in Bristol sat three vampires. It was still dark out, and the poor hollow-eyed youth behind the counter looked like he desperately wanted to go home and have a good, long nap.

Daisy, however, was twitchy for an entirely different reason. "They killed my Ivan," she hissed, stabbing the table with her fork.

Mitchell said nothing. He stared down at his hands and reminded himself that he'd gotten started here to get out, to begin with. This... was an out. It was going to have to be an out. Christ.

He chose not to think about all the dead vampires. Instead, he cracked open another soda and let Daisy's ravings about revenge and humans waging war on them pass over him like a flood.

[[ for one if he's around, otherwise establishy. ]]

Mitchell had had better bar nights with George along, that was for sure. The guy had been off all night, almost angry, and the silences between their conversations stretched long and awkwardly.

Mitchell hadn't been able to get back to the island for about a week now, and it was starting to eat at him, though not as much as Nina's silences did. There was something up there, and he had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew exactly what the problem was. God, he hoped not.

And George was becoming ( fucking impossible to live with. )

[[ nfb, nfi, ooc-okay; taken from Being Human S2E01. Time to get back to canon, Mitchell, you poor bastard. ]]