chosehumanity: (Default)
He'd promised Kate and Jack Saturday. So Saturday it was. Mitchell wasn't sure he was up for it being Saturday so soon.

He pottered around the house, poking through the snacks in the cabinet. Turning on the television. Turning on the radio. None of it really kept his attention for very long, and so he wound up drifting through the house more than anything. If he were inclined to make jokes right now, he'd have said he was being a bit like a ghost.

Eventually, Mitchell just crashed down on the sofa. There would be distractions soon enough, and trying to find any more seemed about as pointless as anything else.

[[ for anyone who has reason to visit. ]]
chosehumanity: (Default)
And in the end, it was all almost disappointingly easy. )

'So... what happens now?' )

[[ nfb, nfi, and ooc-okay! Spoilers for Being Human 2x02, and played out with much thanks to the lovely-but-now-departing-the-plot [livejournal.com profile] bitten_notshy. Follows this! Almost done with this episode now... ]]
chosehumanity: (Default)
It had been the full moon last night. The final test of Mitchell's suspicions about Nina. She had vanished early on in the evening, and she hadn't come back - that was a bad sign all on its own. Now Mitchell sat by the door, waiting. Just waiting. Waiting, until someone turned the keys in the lock, and the door opened in front of him.

Nina stepped through. Annie behind her. The expression on both of their faces said all, really, especially when Nina turned, and stared down at Mitchell.

A few seconds of silence passed.

'You knew,' she said. )

[[ nfb, nfi, ooc-okay, and taken from Being Human 2x01 ]]
chosehumanity: (Default)
Mitchell had asked Kate in Fandom, and called Jack; somehow it felt important for them to be there, as they'd been there for a lot of the insanity of the past year in Bristol. They had arrived sometime during the day, both a nice distraction from Annie's angry, charged silences and George's quiet, guilty glances.

Though in some ways, Kate's anger wasn't much better, either.

But time passed by, and Mitchell knew he couldn't stick around forever. So he called them all into the living room. To send George off to his new life, to make amends with Annie, to say goodbye.

The silence was a little deafening, all in all, now that Mitchell was back and George was-- everything. )

[[ nfb, nfi, ooc-okay; preplayed with the amazing [livejournal.com profile] bitten_notshy and [livejournal.com profile] vanillajello. Adapted from Being Human 1x06. More to follow; follows from here ]]
chosehumanity: (Default)
Mitchell had woken up with a crick in his neck, somewhere out on the deck of the dorms. He hadn't gone through anything like that since... oh, at least the eighties.

Horrible time.

He'd taken a deep, suddenly-instictive-again breath of air - two, in fact, and then three, until he realised that it gave him neither relief nor pain to do so. And that's when it all came flooding back.

In the early morn he'd dragged himself across the streets, through Fandom (stopping briefly to pick up some coffee at JGoB's) and to his house. He fumbled with the keys on the door; repression didn't fall well with what felt like a hangover and creaking joints. He flung open the door and made it inside, dragged a beer out of the fridge and fell down onto the couch.

He needed several hours of mindless television and moping wallowing to deal with this. Or preferably, not deal with it at all.

[[ open if you have reason to bug him at home, sure ]]
chosehumanity: (Default)
Mitchell hadn't actually made it home last night - to Fandom, or to George's. He'd followed Kate's illustrous example and rented a room in a crappy motel where he slept for a few hours, tossing and turning, before making his way back out onto the street.

Come the evening, he was back in the pub; there was a hunt he'd started last night that he hadn't finished, and the bitter, caught-by-the-moment darkness had yet to fade. He found Becka again, still blonde, still impossibly shy, stuttering as she spoke to him. They had a few more beers. Traded bad break-up stories.

But by the time the pub closed, she'd vanished again, dragged off by her giggling friends, leaving Mitchell still without his peace of mind.

This wasn't helping.

He wandered drunkenly out into the streets, looking for somewhere else to get pissed, thinking unfinished thoughts about families and death.

[[ establishy; nfb for distance ]]

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