Welcome to Gaia! ::

((*Playing around with new ideas*))

((Cecil at 0% knowing what's going down.))

***********************************************************


Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the isle,

Not a creature was stirring, not for miles.

Except Cecil, he was up.

And right now, he was sitting on a tree, perched on a strong branch, lying down and looking at the full moon in the clear night sky.
He wore a scarf and a simple blue sweater along with a pair of jeans. The beanie on his head had a small pin with a frowning face attached to the side of it. The hat covering up small dirty blonde locks. Cecil took off his black, thick framed glasses for a moment, wiping his eyes of tears.

He began to playing a tune with the silvery metal flute in his hand. Silent night, to be exact. It was a melencholy tone, the long, shrill notes sometimes wavering for too long, their sound was like coughing, shaky, almost to the point of choking.

Dammit. He thought to himself, Christmas Eve and he's stuck on an island with the fact that there was no actual cure for his Aphonia, he was going to turn into some animal person, and he was going to spend his Christmas on an island full of other animal people, and probably be doomed to spend the rest of his life celebrating Christmas every year with them too. Never to see his fam-

Cecil's flute squeaked, and he stopped playing, wiping another tear from his eye.

((Bress Baltar 0%, ditto))

The path through the trees was dark, the majority of the moon secluded by extended large branches, leaving only patches of sight, and Bress didn't give a care. Lost in his thought-trance, a gnarled root or overturned rock would set him to stumble, but he caught his balance systematically and moved on, the trip not even registering. Of all the sciences this Moreau fellow could be tampering with, why did he have to choose genetics? Bress didn't know a damned thing about how the doctor was doing this. He doubted the power of these injections though. It would take the Earth hundreds of millions of years to change that much, and from what Bress had gathered, the span people changed in could be measured in months! It just wasn't logically possible. It would have to be surgery. But then... how could he explain the stories of people "phasing" while being awake. I MUST get out of here, he thought, it's my latest imperative. He rubbed his arm ...And if this is true, I have to find a cure! He moved through the trees quietly, though they seemewd to eminate an eery melody of lost hope.

Charlie caught the book with a little difficulty, the bulky Tenor Sax swaying to his movements as he caught the book. After he had read the words, his smile slowly began to fade. Feeling as he would not want to interrupt his playing to talk, he took his instrument in his hands and playing with him. The first notes he had played were off key and louder than the small flute, but he sood found the pitch, and began to play a lower counter-melody.

((((((waiting for a good time to enter btw))))))

{{{Him having your notebook is awkward. We can't RP around that easily razz }}}}

{{{we could also play into his mutism...}}}

{{{A. Gaia really needs to get some version of its own instant messenger, B. It's getting late enough (here at least) to suggest giving him the night to sort his connection/(sleep?) issue, instead of starting a full scene now.}}}