Alleycats. [ Active ] Who: Mighty (awarmred) 'n' Vash (stampeded) What: Fightfightfight, most likely. :| Two hungry vamps getting in a bar fight brawl. When: Fourish in the morning, Wednesday. Where: Random alley in the city. Warnings: ... Weeee'll see.
It couldn't have been long. Just a day or so. Maybe two. Possibly three. Vash, himself, wasn't quite sure - he just knew looking about when the sun was out hurt, that getting touched by the actual rays hurt even more, and so he wasn't exactly that good at gauging time that way. But he was fairly sure that when it felt like his stomach (which seemed to never take anything he ate since then) was having an epic war with his spinal cord over who got to digest his liver, well... It was at least a day.
Two, tops.
And it looked like he'd be moving again. The moon wasn't fully down, but it wasn't fully up, either, and the alleyway he'd collapsed in (couldn't go back to the Hotel; the primal urge to take down one of the 'city residents' was bad enough, and it was getting worse) wasn't exactly the best suited to avoiding the sun. Good thing there were so many empty cellars. It was odd, how much food could effect a Plant; he figured he would've been dead by then if he'd been a regular human, with how increased his metabolism seemed to suddenly be, but a fuzzy memory of that starvation onboard SEEDs was all he could reasonably recall that rivaled... this.
It was the sixth sense the pipe-smokers went on about. The need to have -- something, he wasn't sure what, only that it involved violence and hurting and pain and salvation and...
The Stampede knocked over a trashcan stumbling to his feet, previously spiky hair limp and looking overall sunken. This had to be a curse. It had to be. And it'd wear off... eventually... Soon...
He'd give it another day. Maybe two. Possibly three.