Midnight and V's Just Peachy (Open RP)
Vishous wasn't quite sure how the hell he was going to live here when there wasn't any vampires like he. After his discovery of the severely outdated compy lab, and a few hours in the library, he'd discovered that vampires like himself weren't all that common. As far as he knew, he was the only one of his kind.
Which meant he'd have to drink human blood.
Which sucked major dick. If he couldn't drink from another vampire (since he wasn't touching those sparkling freaks with a ten foot pole and a hazmat suit) then he had no other options than to take from about 10 humans every night and he'd still lose weight and strength, even if he ate proper food well and regularly. He hated human blood. It was bad enough taking from the chosen as it was, since he lacked a mate--
Fuck, so not going there. He didn't want to think about that.
If this was a reprieve from the Scribe Virgin it sucked so much it hurt and his head was already so muddled and weighed down with so much other shit. He wanted to take a flying leap, but that seemed out. For some, stupid fucking reason he couldn't get Butch out of his head, about how disappointed his best friend that he kind of had a crush on would be if he found out he'd gone down in such a cowardly way.
He turned to his old friend alcohol in his dilemma. He'd long ago simply asked for the bottle of Grey Goose and taken to swigging from it. He wasn't looking for company, but he wasn't opposed to it, certainly. Maybe there was a pool table or something. Since he...
Missed Butch. Jesus, he was a grade A pervert.
He leaned forward and let his forehead thunk against the bar. Maybe if he was lucky someone would give him something else to think about.
Which meant he'd have to drink human blood.
Which sucked major dick. If he couldn't drink from another vampire (since he wasn't touching those sparkling freaks with a ten foot pole and a hazmat suit) then he had no other options than to take from about 10 humans every night and he'd still lose weight and strength, even if he ate proper food well and regularly. He hated human blood. It was bad enough taking from the chosen as it was, since he lacked a mate--
Fuck, so not going there. He didn't want to think about that.
If this was a reprieve from the Scribe Virgin it sucked so much it hurt and his head was already so muddled and weighed down with so much other shit. He wanted to take a flying leap, but that seemed out. For some, stupid fucking reason he couldn't get Butch out of his head, about how disappointed his best friend that he kind of had a crush on would be if he found out he'd gone down in such a cowardly way.
He turned to his old friend alcohol in his dilemma. He'd long ago simply asked for the bottle of Grey Goose and taken to swigging from it. He wasn't looking for company, but he wasn't opposed to it, certainly. Maybe there was a pool table or something. Since he...
Missed Butch. Jesus, he was a grade A pervert.
He leaned forward and let his forehead thunk against the bar. Maybe if he was lucky someone would give him something else to think about.