When: 23 February 1980 Where: SCAAR Fundraiser Who: Florence Scamander & @dohnjawlish
“Hello, Johnlish.” She smiled, approaching the familiar face after the initial presentation. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
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When: 23 February 1980 Where: SCAAR Fundraiser Who: Florence Scamander & @dohnjawlish
“Hello, Johnlish.” She smiled, approaching the familiar face after the initial presentation. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

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WHEN: Wednesday, 27 January, 1980; early evening WHERE: The Commons, Cardiff WHO: A.J. Runcorn & John Dawlish ( @dohnjawlish )
A.J. reached over to hand John a beer, then plopped onto the couch. “Tell me your day was at least halfway better than mine.”
“You know I don't condone cannibalism.” (for John)
@ltfreckles
"Gotta say, I'm honestly a little surprised by that one. From what I've seen, Wraith do it all the time. And," he continued, shrugging, "I sure wouldn't put it past the Genii. Wouldn't put anything past them."
@ltfreckles asked John:
❛ The law is a human institution. ❜
"I suppose it is, at that. Or, maybe even a little more specific. We've been working with US and UN laws." He rested his arm on the butt of his semi-automatic and tilted his head, watching Paris curiously. "We're still going to treat you as a person according to our laws, for at least as long as I have a say in it. There's got to be some line between us and the bad guys."
@tcncommandmcnts / sc.
“ Que será, será, John. You worry too much. “ He sips his drink with an absent looks, an affable smile. “ There’s little point to life if you aren’t enjoying it. Sit down, and have a drink with me. Or are you quitting ? In which case, I’ll order you a soda. “

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“You’re a creature just like me. We’ve been snipped from the same cloth.”
unprompted asks || always accepting !
a curious but well guarded STARE -- he considers, he observes, and the beast within his gaze PROWLS. snipped from the same cloth -- Hannibal doesn’t necessarily think so. His answering smile is a thing of curiosity and indulgence ...
“ Am I ? “ And he circles, hands settled so naturally in his pockets. They share something -- he wonders if John knows what it is. ( No, how could he, of course ? The blood on his hands, washed clean, cannot be washed away from the eyes of a GOD. The human soul is an intricate and lovely thing and John’s .... John’s is the color and taste of blood. )
“ I don’t imagine we are ... “