[closed + open] i tried carrying the weight of the world...

[seeingthings]

Who: Richie Gecko, Kate Fuller, Others
Where: All around the mansion
When: Early Feb, 2017, Event Time
Rating: NSFW, sex also gore whoops
Summary: Richie and Kate try to survive the event.
The Story:

[He hears it first, the sound of the vacuum seal going up around the door. They're not even in their room this morning, but a good way down the hall, in a special place of Richie's making.

Looks like he picked a bad night. He should have known another one of these was coming, but he couldn't have possibly predicted this.

He pulls himself out of the bed, walking over to the door in the front of the room, placing an ear against it to try and hear what was happening outside. He knows what that sound was, but he doesn't really want to believe it. That's impossible.

Then again, this whole fucking place was impossible.]

Comments

[catchacold]

Ought to be safe if it's indirectly, yeah? I'm bleeding anyway, we just gotta get a bottle or something. [He's not exactly an expert on feeding vampires, but the way he sees it it's between watching a teenage girl with a guilt complex bleed herself or make use of the blood he's losing already. Seems like a simple enough choice.]

How much does he need to drink and since when have you been feeding him?

[unpreach]

It's that bad? [Kate's expression looks pained as her gaze flits between his and the wound on his shoulder, worry lines creasing her forehead and he'd see the indecision in her eyes, but perhaps not for the reasons he might suspect. She didn't know any more about feeding Vampires than he did and between Richie being half frozen and Len's injuries, Kate felt more at a loss than usual.

He'd see her tense at his question, though, Kate's gaze turning back to Richie, very pointedly looking anywhere but at Len for several moments.]

Since we arrived, and I don't know. [Lips pressing into a thin line before Kate refocuses on Len, an almost defiant gleam in her eyes.] He only takes a very small amount every day, but not since the cupboards stopped working.

[catchacold]

Don't think he hit anything major, but it's still bleeding. So if a small amount from someone your size is enough for him on a good day, moderate amount from me should do some good. [Leonard wishes he had a bottle or something at the ready, which reminds him of his flask. He pulls it out from a side pocket of his pants, takes a long sip, then holds it out to Kate.]

Finish that off and then your friend can see how much he likes blood spiked with some whiskey.

/latest

[unpreach]

I... yeah I guess. [Would it be enough? She had no idea. She could hardly admit to Len that Richie had almost killed her when he'd taken blood the last time he'd been starved and frozen.

Kate stares at the flask in Len's hand, blinking a few times before she seems to understand what he's asking her to drink what's in it and hesitation shows in her features as she lifts her gaze to his.

In her periphery, however, she can see the blood that's blooming across his shoulder, can feel the cold coming off of Richie's body and with a press of her lips, Kate takes the flask from Len's hands and braces herself for the burn before lifting it to her lips.

Tears spring forth as soon as the liquor hits the back of her throat, Kate struggling not to choke it back up. Determined to do her part in this she holds up a hand as if to assure him she's got it, draining the rest of the flask before handing it back to Len and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.]

That should be good enough. [Richie would probably appreciate the spiked blood anyway.]

[catchacold]

I just made someone who's not legal drink, didn't I? Add that to my list of sins. [To be fair, at least there wasn't much left in the flask, so she shouldn't actually feel much from the effects, but she clearly hasn't been liking it.

Leonard nods and holds the flask to his shoulder, beginning an awkward process of bleeding into it. He opens the wound back up for it, not seeming to feel much in the way of pain or at the very least not showing it.]

You don't trust the closets, eh?