thispicture @ : woke like a tree full of bees
Who: Brody/open... sorta :P
Where: Percy's flat
When: Saturday evening
Brody's sleep schedule was pretty messed up. That was, apparently, what happened when you lived with vampires; they didn't rise until the sun rose, and he didn't have a lot to do during the day. He'd gone about looking for a job, but without an identity, without parents, without proof that he belonged here so he wouldn't get his ass deported... well, it was turning out to be a lot harder than it sounded. And the last thing he wanted was to resort to turning tricks again. Way too dangerous, and disgusting to boot.
Maybe he should turn himself in. Get thrown in foster care. What was the worst that could possibly happen...?
Oh, but he knew the answer to that.
The devil you know.
So he stayed, and allowed his sleeping patterns to get completely effed. It was 7 in the evening and he was just now waking up, stirring from under his blanket on the couch and mumbling feverishly to himself in his sleep. (Something about kittens and paint.) When he woke he did so all at once, his eyes suddenly opening and sitting up abruptly like he'd been awake the whole time, but if THAT were true he probably would have paid more attention to how he tossed his head so his hair wouldn't end up sticking up in clumps in every direction, falling in front of his face.
He made a noise and lay back down.
Tags: duke-jeremy "brody" mcadams, open, william percy hastings
Who: Brody/open... sorta :P
Where: Percy's flat
When: Saturday evening
Brody's sleep schedule was pretty messed up. That was, apparently, what happened when you lived with vampires; they didn't rise until the sun rose, and he didn't have a lot to do during the day. He'd gone about looking for a job, but without an identity, without parents, without proof that he belonged here so he wouldn't get his ass deported... well, it was turning out to be a lot harder than it sounded. And the last thing he wanted was to resort to turning tricks again. Way too dangerous, and disgusting to boot.
Maybe he should turn himself in. Get thrown in foster care. What was the worst that could possibly happen...?
Oh, but he knew the answer to that.
The devil you know.
So he stayed, and allowed his sleeping patterns to get completely effed. It was 7 in the evening and he was just now waking up, stirring from under his blanket on the couch and mumbling feverishly to himself in his sleep. (Something about kittens and paint.) When he woke he did so all at once, his eyes suddenly opening and sitting up abruptly like he'd been awake the whole time, but if THAT were true he probably would have paid more attention to how he tossed his head so his hair wouldn't end up sticking up in clumps in every direction, falling in front of his face.
He made a noise and lay back down.
Tags: duke-jeremy "brody" mcadams, open, william percy hastings