Spinning Compass Network

Is there a Dr Banner here? I've been told to contact you about possibly helping people from the crash as I have some medical training.

Okay. From former villain to you I-don't-care-what-you-are villains and all of you special snowflakes. And then, everyone else. I've been reading. Probably won't reply if all I get is cocky shit, because in that case, not worth my bloody hard earned time.

Yes, your past would be a bloody part of you. Yes, I know it's bloody hard to shake sometimes. And yes, I'm aware the lot of you had a soul when you went out and killed happy meals on legs with such astounding glee, that it would have made the Master proud. Some people are just born bad or raised to become such. I however, wasn't. My mum was rather keen to remind me off that just the other day, when I found her on the crash site.

However, I'm not the one reliving any bloody past glories. (Although I do still firmly believe Kristina should get a good beating to keep her in check.) Yes, I huff and I puff like a bad tempered big bad wolf, but my lung capacity's down to a gentle breeze. Those days, are definitely over.

But. I'm not going to hide my own past, because I'd rather know who you're all dealing with. I'm a bloody vampire, now with a rather new soul. And before you lot go saying 'but I did bad things with a soul', fuck you and listen. Or rather, read. If you did those things with a soul, then you're just a rotten being. Yes, I said that too.

I did the majority of my crimes either without a soul. You see, the vampires of my world, when they're turned, we lose our soul, meaning that eventually there's nothing left but an insatiable desire to feed, kill, hunt and to measure up to your Sire, in my case Angelus. No guilt involved, no need for penance, no itchy soul. Not to mention, a total personality change, with just a few of our former human traits to keep us 'balanced'. I'm a bloody romantic. Goes with the bloody time period I came from. Victorian times, alright? I was a bloody poet and a nancy boy. And I was my mother's boy, although when I turned her, she tried to come on to me out of a misguided sense of motherhood turned sour, so I had to stake her.

Considering I have a soul now, that the First Evil isn't here and we don't seem to be on top of a ruddy Hellmouth and I just listened to my bloody trigger song without even flinching, I think we're all safe. And should it ever come to that again, then I ask you to stake me. Yes, I said that too. However, it doesn't mean that just because you're trapped here, you need to huff and puff and point out the potential danger you are to people at the drop of a hat. WE KNOW.

Also, GROW UP.

And I'm prepared to kill any of you, should you spiral out of control. That? Not an idle threat, because there's people here and I'd rather have it that they feel safe.

Yes, you're going to have to swallow your ego and grudgingly put your best foot forward. I've been there, although I doubt the of lot of you got electric shocks every time you tried to swat someone on the back of the head. And yes, your ego deflates when you go about and try to help people, but it'll inflate again with the more effort you put in. And you'll feel good about it.

However, I still kill stuff. Bad vampires, demons and whatnot. And as of tonight, a deer. I drank from it of course, but it's still fit to eat.

So who wants the sodding deer? Or rather, who can cook or roast the bloody deer? I don't know the first thing about skinning one of those things. We could use the leather, no?

God, what I wouldn't do for a sodding onion blossom right about now.

Are there any animals on the island, do we know?

Aside from the dinosaur and Mr. Cheshire. And dear Maryanne at times.