fuckitybye | 002

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002

[After this (still in progress as of this writing but the main damage has been done), Malcolm is in a really bad mood.]

[Filtered to Wardens]
All right, which one of you useless thumbtwiddling twats is in charge of that vampire bint called Verona?

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Nice.

That would be Selene. What happened?

Her charge decided that I was a fucking juice-box is what happened.

Shit. Are you okay?

About as okay as I can be after being a fucking one-man blood drive. At least the bitch knew when to stop, I reckon.

This is insane, I swear the Admiral tries to wipe us out every some odd months.

...Seriously?

And I thought she was one of the more... oh, who am I kidding?

Are you alright?

If she's a tame one, I'd sure fucking hate to see what the feral ones are like, chum.

As I said to Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm up there, I'm about as all right as I can be minus a pint of my own fucking blood. Had a sandwich and a lie-down since.

You don't need to tell me. That's, what, three or four times now?

~~For God's sake, I knew this wouldn't... it was pointless, they'd stil~~

So let me get this fucking straight, aye? Usually there's some kind of, what, magic blood supply to keep this place from turning into some kind of fucking Hammer Horror set, yeah? What happened? The Admiral forget to pay the fucking blood bill or something?

What kind of a fucking ship are you people running here anyway?

apparently, one where nobody can see the point that vampires, by their nature, can't be reformed, because it is their nature to attack people and take their blood, just like they're doing, and that in its very nature is immoral, and where nobody sees we shouldn't be pandering to that bloody nature.

I can't comment.

Right 'cos it's all down the the almighty fucking Admiral or whatever. Christ.

No, because I'm trying to be professional here. It's not down to him any more, apparently.

Ah, I see. No fighting in front of the children, is it?

I'm not going to comment any further. Get yourself to the infirmary, just in case.

Fair enough, fucking fair enough. Suppose I shall.

I'll fucking deal with it.

Glad to hear it, Elvira.

Enough of that.

We're kind of wondering the same thing. The Admiral? He likes games. We're his entertainment. Seems he wanted to watch the horror channel this week. I don't know what we're going to do if this keeps up much longer. The more attacks there are, the less inclined some people are to donate (course, others want to all the more, but). And I'm sure animal blood isn't going to last as a substitute for much longer, whether they get sick of the taste or we run out of animals too.

And totally delayed, but I'm Claire, by the way.

Enough of what? Being annoyed that one of Dracula's brides decided to tap me like a fucking keg? Though don't get me wrong, GI Carmilla; I'm plenty glad you're dealing with it. I just think a man's got a little room to be a bit fucking upset.

[And no, he doesn't actually know about the Verona-Dracula connection. He's just flinging around pop-culture references like so much poo.]

Malcolm Tucker.

The more I hear about this Admiral wanker, the more convinced I am he must be related to James Murdoch. Where are the bloody animals coming from, anyway?

Edited 2010-03-26 21:15 (UTC)

Look, between my own starvation and her behaviour, I've got enough on my plate without the name-calling.

Name-calling? This is just me being conversational, love. Believe me, when I start fucking calling names, you'll know it.

Likewise.

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