Welcome to Gaia! ::

*Politely declines on the coffee. I don't really drink it*

Laguna took another sip of her drink, pouring in some more rum and a bit more blood to replace what she'd drank. "Not really, at least not when it comes to being turned into a Demon. Technically I'm a mixture of the two, the Succubi genes augmenting what was already there." She smiled at his reaction. When she had looked down, it was to emphasize her point on being able to manipulate any liquid. "Don't worry, you made it very clear earlier you weren't going to. Though...now I'm curious. How long has it been since you got any action?" Laguna inquired. Macabre Surgeon or not, it was natural to seek another's company. Often the body demanded it, and it was that demand her kind preyed upon.

{Aw. /Makes tea/}
Sciurus was regretting nature's choice on his anatomy right now. Oh, there was a reaction down there alright, quite an alarming one and he stubbornly tried to ignore it. "A demon...? That must be a different class completely" The surgeon had been married once upon a time, and had three kids before the universe caught on to his satan spawn. He hadn't gotten to marry Normandy before she was killed, so that would never happen. "Probably around five years ago. My loved one died before I could marry her, so any 'action' had to be with my first wife, Carol. And it was only for the sake of children." He crossed his arms against memories resurfacing, grateful when Silenda piped in. "Steak, vegetables, food... Help yourself if you wish, someone has to eat them..."

He trailed off with a murderous glance at Voyager. Since Orrin isn't here right now... Trust me, I didn't forget. Find him. He can do as he pleases, just make sure he is safe and not eating anyone. Voyager would have peed himself as he went running to the tunnels. "Right then, no worries, I'll do that!" Aww... It's not my fault he ran off! When the hell did I become a babysitter?

Orrin had fallen asleep in the dumpster, half buried in rubble. After feeding on random leftovers, he was feeling quite alright, even though it might not have been the most comfortable spot for nap. And though he was probably getting even filthier than usual, at least he wasn't bothering anyone in there. Aside from Old Pete, perhaps...

But he wasn't alone. Though the zombie had yet to notice, an old friend had finally found him. The possibly rabid stray hound, who went by the name of 'Puppy', tracked his master down jn the alley. After finding him asleep in the dumpster, he laid down on the ground, keeping guard.

It was strange, having others in his kitchen, enjoying his cooking. Especially considering the last meal the surgeon had made for another soul had been for his children. Oh, there'd been the time he made Dr. Normandy pancakes, - the least he could do after she had taken bullets out of him- but she'd yelled at him for it even though she enjoyed them. "Glad you enjoy it. After a period of eating out everywhere or risking the house set ablaze, I had to learn how to feed myself rather quickly." Sciurus could never let his first wife in the kitchen. The oven would probably spontaneously combust in terror if she even looked at it.

Sciurus stared at Laguna's reaction surprised. He had probably been raised to be old fashioned, but he had been taught that certain acts of intimacy were to be done in private when people cared for each other. That it was supposed to mean something to both parties. Add that to the physiological aspects, the threat of diseases and accidental creation of new life, it just didn't seem worth the effort anymore. "I have no desire to be close to people anymore... Before they were taken from this world, I rather had my fill of that already raising three kids. The one person after that I would have shared my soul with... She was doomed too. Because of me." He glowered at the wall, ignoring the swell of emotions. If he looked hard enough, he could see flames instead of the wall; still hear the screams and feel her lifeless in his arms. "Never again." The surgeon hissed.

{xD Good luck getting a first name outta him. I'm his writer & I still haven't managed it. Stupid stubborn psychopath... On another note... I'm never clicking links on wikipedia again. Or looking up background on succubi, again. /Searches for mind bleach/}

Although to be fair, Sciurus was only the enabler, he hadn't intended to, or physically murdered his loved one. Half of the blame was on the monster that did. But Sciurus was rarely fair on himself, and when he tracked that creature down one day, there wouldn't be enough left for a microscope slide by the time he was through. He pulled his gaze away from the wall, images of broken bodies vanishing like ghosts as he looked back at Laguna, but there was still a fire behind his eyes. "Sciurus... It means 'Squirrel' in Latin, and I'm not sure about the reasoning or where the complaint department is on that. I suppose I must be strange to you, given copulation and intimacy are probably as integral as breathing to your life." He didn't want to be offensive immature about it, but there was something he was curious about. "Given your line of work... Is there a possibility of... Offspring?" It was probably a rude question, even from an anatomical perspective.

Voyager grumbled as he made his way back through the tunnels. The poor guy was probably just right where he left him, sleeping still. His rocks whispered to themselves as the Plymouth contemplated what he'd do in revenge after he found Mr. Orrin... Not here. s**t. Wasn't this the same tunnel? Voyager didn't need his headlights to know, but they confirmed the absence of a green hungry guest from earlier. "Aw man, where'd he go?? Orrin! Yo, green dude!" Voyager started looking around.

{xD Exactly. He's practically a morbid roommate at this rate}

Sciurus smirked at that, not doubting her for a second. "I'll bet.." He had put the cleaver away at this point in a homemade 'holster' attached to his belt, having no provocation to use it. But his scalpel soon replaced it, idly twirling in his fingers simply as a force of habit. Something in her tone brought understanding out of its deep dark hole. Terrible fates had befallen each of the surgeon's children. Had he possibly known anything before hand, he probably never would have brought them into the world. "I can understand that. I spawned three children once, but Fate was less than kind to them. And despite what I enjoyed of our time together...I often regret ever siring them." The surgeon's tone was quiet, indeed full of regret.

Silenda flinched at the doctor's last words, "Y-you regret...having your children?"

How could that even happen? Children were a gift, precious, beloved...unobtainable...how could anyone regret this? The bowl shook in her hands as she controlled her rage at the man whom she had become accustomed to being around in the short time they had been together. Voyager had said he was a psychopath...was this another sign of this? Should she be more wary around him?

"Why, sir...why do you regret them?" she hissed.