Who: Cris, Daniel, Sam
What: A prezzie that will probably go all kinds of wrong
Where: Above Webster's Music
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Vamps and language
Sam thought this was a great idea, yeah?? She hadn't seen Daniel in a while, and she could tell he was messed up and sad and drunk, but none of that deterred her. She was bouncy chaos in
smudged eye-makeup, a heathered tee, jeans and Docs. Gone was the girl that had minded even the slightest nip of cold. She didn't even wear a jacket, yeah? Her fingers were bedecked in loud rings painted cheery pastels, and her hair was a mess. Her jeans rode low and loose, and there were vestiges of portraiture in the oil paint that declared itself in random spatters along denim and black boots.
But, yeah, she thought this was a good idea. She was trying to reconnect lately, ok? It felt like hugely important to her, and she didn't know why. It was like she'd somehow drifted the fuck away from everyone, or everyone had drifted the fuck away from her, and maybe that was just clarity wrapped in bloodlust or something. She was different now. She got that, yeah? It wasn't that the damage was like GONE, but it kinda was. She didn't see scars when she looked in the mirror anymore, and she was more concerned about the gaping maw blood-hunger left in her belly than she was in wishing for the days of needles. So, yeah, different. Anyway, she wanted to see Daniel, and Daniel was whining about wanting to be human, and Cris could do that.
Merry Christmas, huh? She stopped outside the music store, and she wondered if a vampire-someone needed to be invited INTO another vampire's house. No fucking clue, so she looked over at Cris, and then she tipped her head back and YELLED at the upstairs window. "CAN I COME IN???!!!"
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