The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean]

L.C. Milliner
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The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Jan 10, 2011 18:23:24 GMT -5

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Post by L.C. Milliner on Jan 10, 2011 18:23:24 GMT -5

How long had she been here?

L.C. fell on her bed and thought about it, staring at the ceiling in silence. It was only supposed to be a few days. She was supposed to stay with Sean until a dorm arrangement had been made. But no one wanted her in their dorms- in fact, her one attempt to move in had been met with a locked door and a considerable amount of property damage. But she should’ve been out by now. The days had stretched into weeks, and then months, and now it was obvious: she was living with her psychologist.

...In the media, that would be considered dramatic. Promiscuous, even. People wrote romance novels about that crap. But to L.C. it wasn’t anything like that- it was just irksome on occasion. She never had anyone cook for her before, she never had a bedtime, and she never even had to do her homework if she didn’t want. But now, she went to bed at ten on school nights, was required to get up when she was told, and she did her homework when she was told. The biggest act of rebellion from her had been when she had dyed her hair in his sink and stained it, and she ended up scrubbing it out with bleach. Besides that, she was fine- obedient, even. She stayed out of Sean’s way and made little bits of conversation, but otherwise she kept to herself. Was this what most teenagers were like with their parents?

When Sean’s friend had moved in, she had even stayed away from him as well. In her mind, she figured the injured man did not need to be near the girl who could grow spikes. She had left him alone and never asked why he was there. She merely looked upon it, speculated, and went on with her life. Sometimes Sean would give her pocket money to go to town with. On those occasions, she’d keep it and go somewhere, usually to church. She sat in cathedrals a lot. She went to see Ginny on weekends. She hung out in a café or two. She wandered. It was better than staying home in silence.

L.C. realized she was dozing off and stood up. She couldn’t sleep without her medication. She went to the adjoining bathroom and bypassed the mounting pile of dirty clothes in the corner, reaching out grab her pill bottle. It was the orange kind with a white childproof cap and it had her name on it. Fancy stuff, if she said so herself. There was one capsule left over. She would remind Sean when she woke up tomorrow that she needed to stop by the pharmacy again.

Yeah, some girls her age took birth control pills. L.C. took tranquilizers.

She snorted at her thought and opened the bottle, tipping it so the pill would slide into her hand. It did, but it bounced off, much to her surprise, and fell into the sink. She yelped and dropped the bottle, grabbing for the tablet, but as she reached, it fell into the drain.

“FUCK!” She yelled, looking down into the drain before smacking her palm on the sink. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! GODDAMMIT!” She looked down the sink again, moving out of the light, but she didn’t see the pill. She looked to the bottle, laying on the counter. Only three things were on her mind.

One: she had dropped her last sleeping pill down the drain.

Two: the pharmacy was not open 24 hours.

Three: It was ten-o-clock.

The girl stood and stared into the sink, mouth agape. She forgot to breathe for a moment, then started to gulp air like a fish. She sunk to her knees and began to hit her head lightly on the edge of the counter, a hollow ‘thunk’ resounding with each collision. She couldn’t sleep without them, but she had to sleep. Maybe she wouldn’t have nightmares. Maybe they’d all be gone since she hadn’t been having them for so long.

Yeah, and maybe she was secretly a fairy freaking princess.

L.C. sighed and stood, looking down into the sink. She scratched the back of her neck. “Shit.”

Dr. Sean Neville
Institute Official

Psychiatrist
Telepathy/Memory Manipulation
Played By Sean

The One and Only Seangularity

Posts: 8,987

Gender:: Male

The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Jan 13, 2011 18:04:28 GMT -5

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Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Jan 13, 2011 18:04:28 GMT -5

When Sean had first made the offer to let L.C. stay with him after her problem with her roommates, he had assumed it would last only for that night, perhaps a couple of nights at the most, assuming that Claude had difficulty finding a new arrangement immediately. He’d made the offer to save everyone time and to give her some sense of comfort and normality – what little could be salvaged when her roommates demanded that she be evicted from their room because of her attitude, her sleep problems, and their combined effect on her powers.

He hadn’t foreseen that the arrangement would cease to be a stopgap measure and would become the new way of operation. Yet days then weeks then months had passed, and she remained a guest in his house.

The arrangement worked well enough, in that her grades had improved and she didn’t get into fights with her roommates. She also ate better, because Sean prided himself on being a better cook than a high school cafeteria, even if it was a private high school. But the arrangement was merely that: an arrangement. It was nothing like having a family, not in a true sense. While Sean had never had a child of his own, he knew for a fact that most parents did more for their children than drive them to and from school and prepare their meals. They talked, for instance. But whatever talking he and L.C. did tended to fall under the heading of “doctor-patient confidentiality,” or the barest of small talk.

L.C. appeared relatively disinterested in socializing otherwise, perhaps because at the end of the day he was only her psychiatrist and the man providing her with a roof over her head and home-cooked meals, not a family member, not a surrogate family member. And while Sean would be happy to watch television with her if she wanted, she expressed no interest in watching television or movies with him; to keep the television available should she want to use it, he had begun using the one in his bedroom more frequently. Besides, Men of a Certain Age wasn’t written for her demographic.

He’d set her up in the other guest bedroom, the one that didn’t have a standing reservation for Josh whenever he came. This turned out to be wise, as after his friend’s injury the other man had needed that bedroom. The dynamic they had established changed when Josh came to stay, because Sean’s highest priority was helping his friend’s recovery and keeping him safe after the attack. To give her freedom, he would send her to the movies or give her money to go out to dinner or to the mall, while he worked and made sure that Josh’s pain was at a manageable level. And if she noticed that he spent more time downstairs playing the piano during that time, she never mentioned it.

Because it was 10:00p.m. and it was Monday, Sean was in his bedroom prepared to watch Men of a Certain Age. However he was interrupted by the sound of a scream and then shouted profanity. He was off his bed in a shot, concerned about her safety or her sanity. Donning his robe over his pajamas, he ran quickly into the corridor, down toward the bathroom she used. The door was partially ajar and he knocked out of respect since she was a young woman and this was a bathroom. Likewise, he wasn’t openly scanning her thoughts for that same reason. “L.C.?” There was obvious concern in his voice. “What happened? Are you all right?” If something was wrong, he could drive them to the hospital, although that was hopefully unnecessary.

You want to graduate? Listen to Sean talk about condoms.

L.C. Milliner
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Been a while.

Posts: 290

The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Jan 14, 2011 17:55:55 GMT -5

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Post by L.C. Milliner on Jan 14, 2011 17:55:55 GMT -5

L.C. had never thought about Sean as a father figure, not in the least. But that, if anything, was a compliment. L.C. had a very low tolerance for anyone who made any move to be fatherly toward her- an even lower tolerance then what she had for normal people, if that was still possible. She respected Sean. She did not respect fathers. In fact, more often than not, she went out of her way to disrespect anyone’s father she was introduced to. (Except Ginny’s. But that was because she had to coexist with Dr. Campbell, and she kind of owed him.) It was her way of raising a middle finger to the powers-that-be: if she couldn’t have a father, she’d be rude to everyone else’s father to compensate. It was perfectly fair, in her eyes. Nobody else thought so, but then again, she wasn’t out to please them.

Talking to Sean was a hard task for L.C., she assumed that he wanted as little as possible to do with her, even when he said otherwise. It only made sense to her. She was told many a time she was not pleasant to be around, she merely assumed Sean thought the same thing as everyone else. She wasn’t about to ask him if he did, that would make her look insecure, and besides, what if he said yes? No, she was better off keeping her distance and being as agreeable as possible when she was addressed. When Josh had been around, she was as agreeable as possible, and she felt like she was walking on eggshells. She never mentioned the increases in money, the lack of conversation between them, or even Sean’s piano playing- she bit her tongue and left it alone. She had been raised in a household where, if a child was loud, they usually got something thrown at them or they got yelled at. She knew, of course, that Sean would never throw anything at her, but she had seen him yell before and being yelled at by Sean is not a fun experience.

Even now, she wondered if she had interrupted anything important as she heard him run down the hall, and she placed two shaking hands on the sink, sighing and hanging her head. She didn’t move when he knocked and stared at the sink, wishing she had a useful power, like telekinesis, or something that would make her pill return back from its dissolved form in the drainpipe of the bathroom sink. As it was, she sighed. “I dropped my pill. Down the sink.” She mumbled. “It was my last one. And the pharmacy is closed.” She felt numb for a moment. The old L.C., the younger one, would’ve been pitching a fit and would’ve dragged out a wrench to unfasten any pipes in hopes that, when the sink was pulled apart, the pill would still be there. But she knew better now- that caplet was gone for good. She raised her hand and rubbed her palm over her forehead. “I’m so stupid.” The looked up at the mirror and looked at Sean’s reflection, rather then turn around to face him. She wanted to cry, as odd as it sounded. Most people would think it was only a pill, but to L.C. it was so much more. It was a night without nightmares. It was a peaceful sleep.

Dr. Sean Neville
Institute Official

Psychiatrist
Telepathy/Memory Manipulation
Played By Sean

The One and Only Seangularity

Posts: 8,987

Gender:: Male

The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Jan 15, 2011 11:00:35 GMT -5

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Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Jan 15, 2011 11:00:35 GMT -5

The psychiatrist was somewhat relived to hear that was the cause of her outburst. He had been worried that she had been injured in some way, or that she was having an extreme reaction to an emotional problem, something that couldn’t be remedied so easily. He had been preparing himself for a trip to the emergency room or to find one of the first aid kits and treat whatever injury – if it wasn’t too severe –himself.

But this? This was a simple medication problem. It wasn’t an emergency.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t understand the source of her frustration; she relied on those pills to sleep through the night. He sympathized. Not only as a psychiatrist. Not only as someone who had occupied the same general space as she did and had developed a routine over the past few months. But as someone who also suffered from sleep difficulty. He understood.

He also had pills available for himself, in case he had one of those nights. Typically he loathed using them himself on weeknights, since he had to be awake and alert fairly early the next morning, but the bottle occupied a portion of a shelf in his medicine cabinet “just in case.”

Just in case took on a new meaning tonight, although it was one just as – if not more – important.

Since the problem was that she had dropped a pill down the sink, the psychiatrist assumed that she was dressed and that there would be nothing improper about entering and he pushed the door open a bit. He saw that she was ready for bed but dressed, which was what mattered for the sake of her comfort and for propriety. Stepping over the threshold, he went over to the sink to briefly glance at the drain – although he was careful to mind her space. “First of all, you aren’t stupid. It’s late and the pills are small; accidents happen.” This was a harmless accident, even if she envisioned the situation as hopeless since she needed the pills to sleep through the night without all of the associated baggage.

“I’ll write you another prescription and get it filled in the morning so you’ll have more for tomorrow night. But for tonight, you can use one of my pills.” While they weren’t the same prescription, one night of taking a different medication wouldn’t hurt her, particularly since these weren’t anti-psychotic drugs and neither was contraindicated. “Take a few deep breaths and relax; everything will be all right.”

You want to graduate? Listen to Sean talk about condoms.

L.C. Milliner
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Been a while.

Posts: 290

The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Jan 16, 2011 21:09:07 GMT -5

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Post by L.C. Milliner on Jan 16, 2011 21:09:07 GMT -5

L.C. moved to the side, letting Sean look down the sink and see the damage for himself. She pressed her hands on the counter and swallowed, still staring at the empty bottle on the counter as he spoke to her. Her ears felt like they were full of cotton. All she could focus on was the tiny font on the label, the orange plastic, the transparency of the bottle. It was all she could do- she had a feeling if she took a step she would fall down. Her legs felt weak. Not the wobbly sort of weak, but the kind that felt like her bones had been replaced with toothpicks and if she moved, something was going to snap. No, it was best if she stared where she was.

“Sleeping pills don’t work.” She mumbled, half to Sean and half to herself. “They don’t work, they don’t work…” There was an edge of panic in her voice as the pitch of her last statement rose an octave. She turned to sit on the lid of the toilet, pressing her eyes into the heels of her hands and leaning forward. Colors and pinpricks of pain danced on the inside of her eyelids. She took deep breaths and tried to calm herself, but she was failing- thoughts of the nightmares kept running through her head, streaks of blood and gore and rage crisscrossing her psyche like each piece of the dream had a mind of its own. She knew this day had been coming for a while- she couldn’t rely on medication forever- but she wasn’t expecting it so soon.

She had even prepared for the inevitable, months before, when Sean had invited her. ‘Just as long as you know that I can’t be held liable for any injuries you might get if you wake me up during a nightmare.’ ‘Don’t wake me up.’ ‘Don't even get within ten feet of me.’ She would never had told Sean all that if she didn’t believe that a day would come that she would finally give up on the idea of medication helping her. She wasn’t expecting this, though- she was anticipating a huge fit where she would dump them down the toilet and refuse to get any more. This was much more sudden, and unplanned, and…. Frightening.

She was so scared.

When did this start? When did she become fearful of sleep? How long had she gone on having to choose the better of two evils; staying up late only to drift off into a sleep more comatose then restful, or to fall into a hell of her own subconscious design? When did the nightmares change from vaguely disturbing to all-out terrifying? When did she become this way?

What would she have to do to make it stop?

Dr. Sean Neville
Institute Official

Psychiatrist
Telepathy/Memory Manipulation
Played By Sean

The One and Only Seangularity

Posts: 8,987

Gender:: Male

The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Jan 20, 2011 11:52:32 GMT -5

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Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Jan 20, 2011 11:52:32 GMT -5

The pill was gone. Sean could see no sign of it in the sink, and given its size, there was no chance of it getting caught in the drain; he kept the pipes free of clogs to keep the water pressure at an acceptable level. There was no point in peering further because the pill was out of their hands. It was an accident, of course, one that she would kick herself for. But perhaps in the future she would not take the pills over the sink and would instead take a glass of water into her room the way he did when he had to take pills. Or she would cover the drain if she decided to continue to take the pills in the bathroom.

While the psychiatrist understood from their previous conversations that she had a poor track record with sleeping pills, he also knew that the ones he took were nearly fail-safe. That was why he took them as a last resort, when he knew that he needed to sleep and needed to shut his over-active mind down for a few hours; he knew that they would lead to success and a good night’s sleep. “You can at least try these,” he suggested gently. He didn’t move to touch her as he might with a colleague or a relative, partially because she was his ward in a quasi-legal situation and they were alone in his house, both dressed for bed in the bathroom. And partially because he knew her, and she wasn’t touchy-feely; she didn’t display the same comfort from reassuring touches that many others did at her age. “If they don’t work for you, then you’re no worse off for taking them than if you hadn’t tried them.”

If he had the ability to influence dreams and ward off nightmares, Sean would gladly offer his services. He’d thought about that before, about how as powerful as his control over memories was, he ran into an insurmountable barrier when it came to the realm of dreams. He’d once tried to explain that to Kathleen when describing psychic powers and why her fears were unfounded, and why Ryan’s comic books were completely unrealistic. Little good that had done, and little good his abilities were when someone like L.C. was petrified of going to sleep.

“I can wake you up without going into your room,” he reminded her. Better living through telepathy. He wouldn’t go into her bedroom to wake her up tomorrow, if she was afraid of harming him. But he would send out the breakfast call all the same, and he would make sure she went to class. They’d had this discussion briefly the day she’d come into his office to discuss her roommate situation and her sleep difficulties. He understood her concerns, but the difference was that he understood her problems, and that he wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t be afraid of her, and it was that simple. “One way or another, we’ll get you through tonight.”

You want to graduate? Listen to Sean talk about condoms.

L.C. Milliner
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Been a while.

Posts: 290

The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Feb 14, 2011 21:30:43 GMT -5

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Post by L.C. Milliner on Feb 14, 2011 21:30:43 GMT -5

There were some days that L.C. wished in vain that Sean was not a psychiatrist, or a telepath, so she could claim that he didn’t know anything and could reject any and all of his advice. She was sick of adults always knowing best- she could think for herself, couldn’t she? Was it so hard to fathom that she had a working brain? She let out a growl of frustration and mentally slapped herself repeatedly as she nodded in sullen agreement to his offer. She wanted to avoid conflict with Sean, but she also wanted to refuse sleeping pills. Even if they were foolproof for him, she was convinced that her chemical imbalances were so bad that her body would still screw it up.

As far as the teen was concerned, she knew her body better than anyone else. If she had been a normal teen, she might’ve been right; but as a meta-human with little to no medical knowledge, she was far from it, unfortunately. She looked at the sink and began to loath it for taking her pill, but she felt a plan slowly forming in her head. She hoped Sean wasn’t reading her mind as she looked at the sink. She would just flush the sleeping pills he would take her down, and then stay up all night. Her insomnia was her best weapon against nightmares- she knew from experience. She would nap in class tomorrow, and the short periods of sleep would rejuvenate her and she’d be hunky dory. Then Sean would get her tranquilizers and she’d be back to normal. Well, as normal as possible.

He mentioned his ability to wake her up without going into her room, and she grimaced. “Stay out of my head.”

[/i] She said it with a venomous tone she never used with Sean, only with people she really hated. (And Zac.) She regretted it immediately; he was only trying to help. But she believed that her dreams were own, and if he invaded her head during the final part of her dreams, she would all but kill herself in shame. She shook her head to clear it and turned to him, looking apologetic, even if she wouldn’t say so. “Just leave me alone while I sleep. That’s all I’m asking.”

She finally lifted her head from her hands and blinked, eyes adjusting to the light as she looked up at her mentor. “Is that too much to ask? Really?” She was turning into a teenager- demanding, and unable to see anyone else’s point of view. In her head, she made herself believe that she was right and Sean was wrong, even though she knew that wasn’t true. “I can get through the night just fine. I’ve done it all my life. This is just a setback. A minor setback.”[/blockquote]

Dr. Sean Neville
Institute Official

Psychiatrist
Telepathy/Memory Manipulation
Played By Sean

The One and Only Seangularity

Posts: 8,987

Gender:: Male

The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Feb 20, 2011 22:45:03 GMT -5

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Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Feb 20, 2011 22:45:03 GMT -5

Since the pill was gone and L.C. was still here, Sean turned around to give her his full attention. He leaned against the sink, resting one arm on the ceramic edge while they continued this conversation. His posture – while concerned – demonstrated that he was not looming over her, was not making decisions for her, was not forcing her into anything. He was merely here , she was here, and eventually she would go to bed and he would return to his television program. Once she felt better, not before.

The situation before them was unfortunate, since she had come to rely on her tranquilizers to sleep, but it was not a disaster. If she calmed down, then she would see that. But she had to truly calm herself, not merely transfer her emotions to another, safer outlet, such as shouting at him since he would not respond in kind. He understood what it was like to be a teenager; not only had he survived his own adolescence, but he was surrounded by teenagers day in and day out, and the telepathy gave him particularly insight. Combined with his psychiatric training, he understood on both a professional and instinctive level. But to achieve a meeting of minds, she had to be willing to meet him half way. Throwing out a rare commodity to appease him did not qualify as meeting him half way.

Regardless of whether she knew it, those precise words had been used on him many times over the years. He understood why she didn’t want to be disturbed in her sleep; sleep was such a helpless state, and dreams often revealed too much. This was the point at which he was usually inclined to explain that her dreams were invisible to him. Dreams were a threshold which his telepathy could not cross; he could only call while she slept and hope to rouse her. But her body language revealed – and her thoughts confirmed – that such a point would fall on deaf ears. For now.

“Then you’ll get through tonight,” Sean told her gently. Despite the acid that had been in her tone a moment before, his betrayed nothing but that same compassion which was ever present. “We’ll have waffles for breakfast, and I expect you to be downstairs in time to eat.” That was his concession; if he did not have to wake her, then they need not cross that other bridge. “And if you plan on staying up later, there’s a marathon on the Syfy network.” He wanted her to sleep, but he would prefer not to spend half the night arguing.

You want to graduate? Listen to Sean talk about condoms.

L.C. Milliner
Retired

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Iron Spike Protrusion

Been a while.

Posts: 290

The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Feb 25, 2011 0:16:46 GMT -5

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Post by L.C. Milliner on Feb 25, 2011 0:16:46 GMT -5

Finally, L.C. began to calm down. She gathered herself, or tried to as best as she could, and focused on the task at hand, which was getting Sean out so she could sleep. He wasn’t forcing the pills on her, not yet, so she decided against them, opting instead for her fantastic insomnia to carry her on until around four AM, which was an acceptable point to fall dead asleep. Two hours only got her through the start of her nightmare, and she could handle that. It was the ending of it that woke her up screaming, and she wasn’t ready to face the music just yet. No, she would be fine. She might not even have it, if she was tired enough. There was a point where she fell into a dead slumber that took a foghorn to wake her from. She suspected Sean’s mental wakeup call would work just as well, if not better. That, and the promise of waffles was very alluring indeed.

She looked up to Sean and shook her head silently, deciding to opt out of the Syfy marathon this night. She didn’t even want to know what it was on and what it encompassed; she had seen enough Doctor Who (who she swore looked like Mr. Campbell) to last her a lifetime, and she wasn’t ready for Star Trek just yet. No, she would listen to her music and sit up all night, logically reasoning that if she did not lie down she would not go to sleep. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but she was willing to bet on it, at least for a night.

“I don’t want any pills. I’ll stay in my room and stay up. If I fall asleep, I’ll fall asleep. It won’t be too bad.” She was trying to reason with herself that her nightmares were not as bad as she was making them out to be, but even she knew that was a lie, and a poorly made one at that. She wasn’t about to think that, however, because that would only make things more unsettling in the coming hours. She would downplay the details so it sounded less like ‘do or die’ and more like ‘do or get a bit of discomfort’. She put her hands on her knees and stood, feeling old as she heard a pop coming from somewhere on her body. When did she develop that?

“Thanks for, ah, checking up on me.” L.C. muttered as she stood there, feeling slightly bad for causing such a disruption. “Good night.” She said it with finality as she left the bathroom, opting to pause at the door as she mentally counted the steps between her bed and the bathroom. Eleven was what she got, and she memorized it. Eleven steps. Eleven.

“Sleep well.” She muttered, with obvious hints of jealousy behind the caring words. “Someone has to.”

Dr. Sean Neville
Institute Official

Psychiatrist
Telepathy/Memory Manipulation
Played By Sean

The One and Only Seangularity

Posts: 8,987

Gender:: Male

The Crow & The Butterfly [Sean] Mar 13, 2011 10:12:20 GMT -5

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Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Mar 13, 2011 10:12:20 GMT -5

One day they would get to the root of her nightmares to cut them off at the source. The pills, although effective when they weren’t keeping the interior pipes company, were only a stopgap measure. They didn’t treat the source. Of course, treating the source was a luxury that came with time and the ability to sleep. This was why the telepath hadn’t forced her to talk to him about her nightmares after the session where he had prescribed the pills in the first place, right before she had moved in. It was also one of the reasons he hadn’t suggested that she keep a dream journal; it was better for her to avoid the dreams completely for the present time.

“Very well. I’ll be up for a while longer, if you want to talk.” He would be in his bedroom, of course, but he slept in pajamas and there would be nothing inappropriate should she take him up on the offer. He doubted that she would, but he was sincere in making it. And while it was vaguely paternal rather than strictly professional, it was to be expected given their current living situation and the uniqueness of tonight’s turn of events.

“You’re welcome.” It was a simpler reply, one he thought she would appreciate more than a “that’s what I’m here for.” It paid no closer scrutiny to what would undoubtedly be a bad night, and there was a sense of finality that would allow her to go about the rest of her evening. He’d already given her permission, and then acknowledged her acceptance, to ignore her bedtime for the night. It was what could be done.
“Good night.” As she left the bathroom, he did as well, starting down the hall towards the master bedroom. First thing in the morning, he would drop off a new prescription for her at the pharmacy. They could pick up the pills on the way home from school tomorrow evening, and she could resume her sleep schedule. Unfortunately, it was the only help that he could give her that she would be willing to accept.

You want to graduate? Listen to Sean talk about condoms.

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Post by L.C. Milliner on Jan 10, 2011 18:23:24 GMT -5

Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Jan 13, 2011 18:04:28 GMT -5

Post by L.C. Milliner on Jan 14, 2011 17:55:55 GMT -5

Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Jan 15, 2011 11:00:35 GMT -5

Post by L.C. Milliner on Jan 16, 2011 21:09:07 GMT -5

Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Jan 20, 2011 11:52:32 GMT -5

Post by L.C. Milliner on Feb 14, 2011 21:30:43 GMT -5

Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Feb 20, 2011 22:45:03 GMT -5

Post by L.C. Milliner on Feb 25, 2011 0:16:46 GMT -5

Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Mar 13, 2011 10:12:20 GMT -5

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