[INCOMPLETE]
Who: Warren and Max, open
When: Evening, Closing Time
Where: Lower Level Bakery!
Rating: TBA
Warnings: TBA
Summary: Warren travels to Max's bakery to help her close up shop, his sword is angry at him.
Gazing blankly ahead, shambling, staggering. Warren felt as one drunk. He had likely given Hope's End too much blood that last time. Oh, well. He would recover. He finally recovered his bearings, using his psionics to force him into an alert state, though his face was still pale from the blood loss. His footsteps echoed hollowly around him, and his now blood-drained and forcefully alert mind darted around, paranoia drawing closer.
In this state, he'd be able to do nothing as far as psionics. "Damn you, End, why do you weaken us like this? I cannot fight like this!"
"Maybe you should serve me someone else's blood, then," the blade replied, not an ounce of pity or apology in its voice. "Your blood is delicious, but I require--"
"Silence! Still yourself, and quell your hunger, or I will *let* Asclepius reduce you to a mere mortal blade." The blade didn't reply, sulking, Warren figured. That was fine. He'd had enough of her rude comments and brutal bloodthirst anyway.
He stepped up to the door of the bakery, opened it, and went inside.
"Hello, Max," he said, his blue eyes barely glowing through the bags under them.
When: Evening, Closing Time
Where: Lower Level Bakery!
Rating: TBA
Warnings: TBA
Summary: Warren travels to Max's bakery to help her close up shop, his sword is angry at him.
Gazing blankly ahead, shambling, staggering. Warren felt as one drunk. He had likely given Hope's End too much blood that last time. Oh, well. He would recover. He finally recovered his bearings, using his psionics to force him into an alert state, though his face was still pale from the blood loss. His footsteps echoed hollowly around him, and his now blood-drained and forcefully alert mind darted around, paranoia drawing closer.
In this state, he'd be able to do nothing as far as psionics. "Damn you, End, why do you weaken us like this? I cannot fight like this!"
"Maybe you should serve me someone else's blood, then," the blade replied, not an ounce of pity or apology in its voice. "Your blood is delicious, but I require--"
"Silence! Still yourself, and quell your hunger, or I will *let* Asclepius reduce you to a mere mortal blade." The blade didn't reply, sulking, Warren figured. That was fine. He'd had enough of her rude comments and brutal bloodthirst anyway.
He stepped up to the door of the bakery, opened it, and went inside.
"Hello, Max," he said, his blue eyes barely glowing through the bags under them.