(no subject)
[ If there's anything that Damon hates more than not knowing what the hell is going on, it's not being able to feed when he needs to, when he wants to.
It maybe makes him a little bit grumpy, because he's so used to having humans everywhere, crawling all over the place like the little fucking rats they were, and the fact that he can't smell them anywhere in this god forsaken miserable city is slightly alarming. More than slightly, actually. It's really alarming. Where the hell did they all goddamn go?
The city of is void of life of any sort, and he walks through the streets, kicks random pieces of garbage out of his way as he goes. He'd tested every door to every house earlier, and of course, he hadn't been able to get into any of them. Every single fucking one, which meant people must have lived here. Once.
As for where they were now, well. Damon had no idea.
Damon slows to a stop in front of a store window. The glass is fogged up from the cold air, frosted over in places, and Damon shifts his phone in his hand, turns to face the tiny building. He stands there for maybe a second or two, and then he's hurling the phone through the window, shattering the glass. It lands on the floor somewhere inside the store, sliding audibly across the linoleum floors. ]
Son of a bitch.
[ Pause. Breathe. Breathe.
Okay, he's fine. Totally.
Damon stands still for a second, and then he's stepping over to the window, brushing jagged pieces of glass out of his way before attempting to move through. He's stopped immediately by an invisible force, an invisible barrier, and he pulls away from the building as if he's been burned.
And isn't that great.
He stares at his cellphone just inside, helplessly. ]
You're kidding.
It maybe makes him a little bit grumpy, because he's so used to having humans everywhere, crawling all over the place like the little fucking rats they were, and the fact that he can't smell them anywhere in this god forsaken miserable city is slightly alarming. More than slightly, actually. It's really alarming. Where the hell did they all goddamn go?
The city of is void of life of any sort, and he walks through the streets, kicks random pieces of garbage out of his way as he goes. He'd tested every door to every house earlier, and of course, he hadn't been able to get into any of them. Every single fucking one, which meant people must have lived here. Once.
As for where they were now, well. Damon had no idea.
Damon slows to a stop in front of a store window. The glass is fogged up from the cold air, frosted over in places, and Damon shifts his phone in his hand, turns to face the tiny building. He stands there for maybe a second or two, and then he's hurling the phone through the window, shattering the glass. It lands on the floor somewhere inside the store, sliding audibly across the linoleum floors. ]
Son of a bitch.
[ Pause. Breathe. Breathe.
Okay, he's fine. Totally.
Damon stands still for a second, and then he's stepping over to the window, brushing jagged pieces of glass out of his way before attempting to move through. He's stopped immediately by an invisible force, an invisible barrier, and he pulls away from the building as if he's been burned.
And isn't that great.
He stares at his cellphone just inside, helplessly. ]
You're kidding.