Thread: Empty Chrysalis WHO: Wendy and James WHEN: Monday afternoon WHERE: Hallways
Recklessness was not a trait often attributed to James Weatherby. He was impulsive, but in a calculated way. He enjoyed toeing the line between doing something inherently wrong and not getting caught. As a bored son of a wealthy family, this was how he had entertained himself through boarding school. With all things losing their meaning, James had very little left to risk. Every achievement he had made up to this point was for naught. Every risk he had taken, every line he had hedged with deceit and foul play, it did nothing for him now.
Still numb and not processing the death of his sire by his own hands, James was looking for a way to feel again. He walked the halls between classes as though he were walking down the aisles in a buffet. Except James wasn't looking for a meal of blood. He wanted to feed off someone else's emotions.
The shock of white hair caught his eye in a sea of bland brunettes and blondes. Wendy was walking towards him, presumably on his way to his next class, and James caught his eye. The briefest touch of his telepathic ability communicated a burning desire to follow, the promise of reward unspecified, but tantilizing.
James turned down an empty hall and stepped into the janitor's closet.