[ closed ]

[amberhearted]

Who: Alex and Hajime, John M, Julien, Lyall
When: December 2-4
What: A hodgepodge of apologies, specs, commiseration and checking in.
Where: Various!
Warnings: None atm.

[ text, private to john, 12/2 late evening ]
Hey I'm back! How are you and Anthony

[ text, private to julien, 12/4 ]
Hey man I got the goggles is the bird house still standing

[ text, private to lyall ]
Hey handy Randy man what's this about wwm 2013? Wwm=werewolf wrestle mania BTW

Seriously though how are you? How's your furniture

[ action, closed to hajime, 12/3, before the earthquake ]
This was the moment of truth.

Okay, so entering Aikawa's wasn't as monumental as that opening liner indicated, but it made Alex a little uncomfortable as he approached the counter. He came at a specific time, hoping to catch Hajime at a dead hour, and was rewarded for his forward thinking. The place was indeed operating on the slow side.

When asked for his order, he instead asked to speak with Hajime at his earliest convenience, and then took a seat in one of the waiting chairs. With a small cooler beneath his seat, he whittled away the time on his phone, knee bouncing restlessly.

Comments

cw: self-harm

[amberhearted]

[ he nods, both to acknowledge john and to settle his own nervousness. 'just a little.' maybe not-- not like what ravi did. no, definitely not like what ravi did because alex can't heal himself on demand in the same way ravi can.

palm, then. inconvenient, but he can always blame it on cutting an apple or some other innocuous, if foolish, activity. hopefully it'll heal up within a day or two. (alex still isn't too knowledgeable about his rate of healing, only that it's faster than normal.)

with that decided, he bites his lower lip and uses a paring knife to make the cut. leaving a small trail of blood on the counter, he positions his hand over a small bowl for collection. after accumulating about a fourth of a cup, he sets the knife down and grabs an indiscriminate amount of paper towels and presses them against his palm.

he glances at john. ]

Okay.

[allinvein]

[Back turned, John just waits with his head bowed. While his mind is currently filled with thoughts of dread, there's no dying that his body seems to be rather thrilled with the idea of having blood--blood fresh from a living individual. (Well, as living as a vampire can be, in Alex's case.)

He can feel his fangs sliding into place, but he forces them away when he hears Alex speak. It's only then that he turns, and despite trying to gather himself, the moment he sees that bowl of red liquid on the counter, his control snaps. His eyes once again shift to black as he closes the distance between him and his food in long strides.

It's in his hands and down his throat in a matter of seconds, and after he's done guzzling it down, John sighs, like a deep-seated itch has finally been scratched. The hunger still lingers, but for the time being, the ache has receded somewhat. He licks his lips, slicking the remaining fluid off of them, before slowly setting the bowl down.

John suddenly feels very ill. He just drank his friend's blood.]

I...

[amberhearted]

[ the decisiveness with which john takes the blood is startling, though it really shouldn't be given alex's own behavior on the side of the road. he leans away from john and watches him with both unease and anticipation.

funny, then, that the relieved sigh he makes only causes alex to tense.

but he relaxes after that lone 'i'. ]

... feel sick?