chosehumanity: (Default)
Mitchell got in from Baltimore sometime just past noon. He hadn't listened to the radio for a while; now he had oceans of time, and he was planning to use them to catch up. After all, you did get tired of having a sixteen-year-old accuse you of being unaware what was going on all the time.

The first thing he did when he finished was leave a voicemail. The second thing he did was - post-squirrel-checking the room - launch a diatribe over the phone to George about stupid bloody vampires who didn't know how to clean up after themselves or work the system. (He'd contemplated calling Mina despite their rusty truce, but he didn't particularly feel like helping out on this whole mad hunt by waking up any potential sleeping dragons about anyone else)

The third thing he did was flop down on the couch with a beer, cross his arms, put on a film that wasn't at all thematic for his feelings about the whole thing at large, and brood.

If he'd had any inclination of letting Fandom at large know about himself, it was firmly gone by now.

[[ ever get a post stuck in your head during your trip home? post open to anyone who'd have a reason to show up or call ]]
chosehumanity: (Default)
It had been a fool's errand, an act of desperation, of something sodding stupid done to stave off his own helplessness. The phone call, that was. Of course, none of the scum and the idiots down in Bristol had known anything, so the point was moot and Mitchell was getting more frantic in his efforts.

Maybe the island hadn't been such a good pick, but now he was stuck with it; he wasn't going to let the kids go without a fight.

So after a few hours of necessary rest he was heading back to the school to dive back into the books, cap safely on his head to protect his eyes from the sun, and his gloved hands shoved down his pockets.

He supposed he should've seen it coming, the presence, the taunting, if only by the smellL.

He didn't.

"Mitchell."

The voice, however, was so recognisable it made something in him jump, and his head swivelled around to discover the figure, still clad in a policeman's uniform - although a local one, at least Herrick knew how to blend in - and looking as plain and portly as always, hovering in an alley with his fingers curled around a hot steaming cup.

"Run out of dimes for the phone, Herrick?" he asked, stepping into the alleyway as quickly as he could, "You shouldn't be here."

ExpandJack had been researching... )

[[ NFI, NFB, OOC-okaaay ]]

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chosehumanity

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