Characters: Drusilla and Open Time/Date: September 10, evening. Location: The kitchen. Warnings/Rating: Dru is currently pouting at the, uh, 'food' that's been provided for her, so anyone who comes in is in danger of being attacked for the heck of it. Rating TBD. Summary: Blood bags are yucky. Status: Incomplete, open.
Dru wished again that Spike was here.
There was a Spike here, but not the one she wanted, and it didn't make it any better. She hated how the air was so empty without him. She hated how all the sounds were so much louder without him keeping them quiet. She'd been sulking mostly since her arrival, indifferent to the sounds of all the pretty people scurrying about in their holes, but now it was time to be a big girl, just like her Spike would want her to be. She had to go find something to eat.
She hadn't met any humans on the way down from the room they'd given her, and she drifted through the hallways until she found herself in a kitchen. No one in there. And she was so hungry, she needed something to eat, there were claws running up her throat and she had to get something to eat. "Are they all hiding?" she murmured. "Hiding from Auntie Dru?" She opened the cabinets, rifled through the drawers, as though she would find someone inside them. The refrigerator made her glare, she hated its fluorescent hum, but she opened it nonetheless.
There were blood bags inside, and she pulled a face of distinct disgust. Dirty little sacks of stale tastelessness, she hated them. She wanted real blood, straight from the source.
It would just be a matter of finding some.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she sing-songed, and checked the freezer just to be safe.