(OOC: If you're still open to a tag in while Connor's still transformed, I couldn't resist a robopire! 👀)
So many faces have gone missing over the months they've been herded to and fro on a vessel that seems to be leading them nowhere. He does what he can not to think overly much on it. Many faces went missing on London's streets every day, a grimly high number by nefarious causes. If there is daylight, nightfall is fated to follow, and creatures of all stripes and scruples live in the shadows. He ought to know; he is not so innocent, either. He's guilty of witnessing death, not inflicting it by his own hands, but... but--
But it had been a near thing, not long before the Ancient stole him away. He's not so sure that's a shadow of a stain that can wipe clean, or if he would be granted clemency to cleanse himself of it those he holds closest.
In a city teeming with unpredictable and untrustworthy faces, those few close companions he'd made had brought out the best in his nature and kept the worst at bay. He's missed that the most on these isles: kinship, connection. Friendlier faces.
And if none exist, then familiar ones, at least--he keeps a watch on those, noting them as he can amid the carnival's labyrinthine booths and artificially bright lights. He reserves special attention for the androids, unique as they are. It helps that they light their way with their own illumination, so he thinks nothing of seeing Connor on the other side of a turn between two attractions beyond greeting him.
haunted house
So many faces have gone missing over the months they've been herded to and fro on a vessel that seems to be leading them nowhere. He does what he can not to think overly much on it. Many faces went missing on London's streets every day, a grimly high number by nefarious causes. If there is daylight, nightfall is fated to follow, and creatures of all stripes and scruples live in the shadows. He ought to know; he is not so innocent, either. He's guilty of witnessing death, not inflicting it by his own hands, but... but--
But it had been a near thing, not long before the Ancient stole him away. He's not so sure that's a shadow of a stain that can wipe clean, or if he would be granted clemency to cleanse himself of it those he holds closest.
In a city teeming with unpredictable and untrustworthy faces, those few close companions he'd made had brought out the best in his nature and kept the worst at bay. He's missed that the most on these isles: kinship, connection. Friendlier faces.
And if none exist, then familiar ones, at least--he keeps a watch on those, noting them as he can amid the carnival's labyrinthine booths and artificially bright lights. He reserves special attention for the androids, unique as they are. It helps that they light their way with their own illumination, so he thinks nothing of seeing Connor on the other side of a turn between two attractions beyond greeting him.
"Connor."