nookiepowered: (z - lovecraft - early)
The wake-up routine for unfamiliar places was so painfully familiar to Bo that she could run through it in seconds, before she even opened her eyes.

Where: bed (not mine)
Somebody else in it? (yes)
Somebody dead? (.......................)

Okay, that one required a little thought this time, which was hard because not quite awake, but getting there enough to smile when the complicated yes filtered into her consciousness. Mmmm, vampires, and mmmmm, gray skin disappearing so fast that the only reason Mitchell hadn't stopped the proceedings to stare at her was hi, Proceedings, thank you very much.

So there was that, which explained the relaxed, glowy, ready-to-bounce-out-of-bed-anytime-now.... way that Bo didn't feel at all. Even opening her eyes seemed like an effort, and when she did, she regretted it because the room was somehow too bright. The hell?

Stumbling (sans sheet because somebody had it twisted around his legs) to the bathroom could be a thing, since it wasn't like that somebody needed a mirror in his bedroom. Stumbling both because she was keeping her eyes slitted shut and because the flu-y ache was back with a vengeance.

Almost like something that wasn't Bo wasn't at all happy with her erasing the signs of its presence in her body, and had spent the night going oh yeah? Heal THIS, biotch. But that couldn't happen, right? That wasn't the way her power worked.

Right. Bathroom. No light needed. Mirror.

"FUUUUUUUUU--"

[OOC: establishy, vampire-modding with permission!]
nookiepowered: (z - lovecraft - early)
The wake-up routine for unfamiliar places was so painfully familiar to Bo that she could run through it in seconds, before she even opened her eyes.

Where: bed (not mine)
Somebody else in it? (yes)
Somebody dead? (.......................)

Okay, that one required a little thought this time, which was hard because not quite awake, but getting there enough to smile when the complicated yes filtered into her consciousness. Mmmm, vampires, and mmmmm, gray skin disappearing so fast that the only reason Mitchell hadn't stopped the proceedings to stare at her was hi, Proceedings, thank you very much.

So there was that, which explained the relaxed, glowy, ready-to-bounce-out-of-bed-anytime-now.... way that Bo didn't feel at all. Even opening her eyes seemed like an effort, and when she did, she regretted it because the room was somehow too bright. The hell?

Stumbling (sans sheet because somebody had it twisted around his legs) to the bathroom could be a thing, since it wasn't like that somebody needed a mirror in his bedroom. Stumbling both because she was keeping her eyes slitted shut and because the flu-y ache was back with a vengeance.

Almost like something that wasn't Bo wasn't at all happy with her erasing the signs of its presence in her body, and had spent the night going oh yeah? Heal THIS, biotch. But that couldn't happen, right? That wasn't the way her power worked.

Right. Bathroom. No light needed. Mirror.

"FUUUUUUUUU--"

[OOC: establishy, vampire-modding with permission!]
nookiepowered: (action (walking in))
Mitchell might not be forced to sleep while the sun was up like certain other vampires, but Bo still waited until twilight fell to walk over to his place. While the sun was up and the students were still moving around the grounds, she'd felt like she ought to stay close to the cameras and the school, just in case Kenzi's scenario of rampaging razor-toothed deer breaching the walls turned into more than an attempt to ditch class.

Yeah, so, um. That gun on Bo's hip, the one she'd snatched from a cranked-up mugger what seemed like half a lifetime ago? She hadn't seen any more razor-toothed deer on the way to Mitchell's, but if one came her way, she wasn't going after it with a security-issue blunt-ended phallic symbol.

Her knock at the door was a little bit nervous, and a little bit dull. That would be the gloves.

[OOC: For the resident, modded with his permission, and eeeeeeeepic SP.]
nookiepowered: (action (walking in))
Mitchell might not be forced to sleep while the sun was up like certain other vampires, but Bo still waited until twilight fell to walk over to his place. While the sun was up and the students were still moving around the grounds, she'd felt like she ought to stay close to the cameras and the school, just in case Kenzi's scenario of rampaging razor-toothed deer breaching the walls turned into more than an attempt to ditch class.

Yeah, so, um. That gun on Bo's hip, the one she'd snatched from a cranked-up mugger what seemed like half a lifetime ago? She hadn't seen any more razor-toothed deer on the way to Mitchell's, but if one came her way, she wasn't going after it with a security-issue blunt-ended phallic symbol.

Her knock at the door was a little bit nervous, and a little bit dull. That would be the gloves.

[OOC: For the resident, modded with his permission, and eeeeeeeepic SP.]
nookiepowered: (z - lovecraft - hands)
Bo was rubbing her neck with one hand and leaning on the other as she watched the screen that covered the area just outside the north gate, so you couldn't really blame her for the fact that she hadn't yet noticed how her hands looked. She had other things to pay attention to.

First, the unfamiliar flu-like ache she'd woken up with in most of her joints; she didn't really ever get sick anymore, or at least not for long. Once she'd fed, any injury or illness was wiped away along with the weakness and hunger that had driven her there in the first place. It had been long enough that feeling a bit peaky wasn't out of the question, and Bo certainly knew how to solve that, but...

Second and more immediate, the small bluish deer who'd set off the motion detector, now nosing around the security camera, eating... what kind of plant was that? Whatever it was, the deer was tearing into the mass of green with more relish than Bo had seen people tear into a sixty-dollar steak. Wait, was that branch moving?

Somewhere there was a button that would rotate the camera so she could get a better view, and another that would turn up the sound; it was only when Bo reached for them that she caught sight of her hands in the light from the bank of screens, and stared. No wonder her joints hurt; the knuckles were swollen, the skin over them silvery and tight, while other patches between her fingers were rough and dark gray, scabbed like she'd punched a wall three or four times -- in a black and white movie.

She'd have stared stupidly at her own hands for even longer if one of them hadn't been stabbing the volume key; the growls and shrieks that boomed from the speaker were impossible to ignore. Still, it took an embarrassing number of seconds for Bo's brain to process that the thrashing green plant being torn apart by the tiny deer was in fact a thrashing green gremlin being torn apart by a tiny deer.

Oh, good. No, wait. Some other word that started with g. Gross. That was it.

[Open should anyone want to bug her or ask professional questions she can't answer like "WTF is going on?"]
nookiepowered: (z - lovecraft - hands)
Bo was rubbing her neck with one hand and leaning on the other as she watched the screen that covered the area just outside the north gate, so you couldn't really blame her for the fact that she hadn't yet noticed how her hands looked. She had other things to pay attention to.

First, the unfamiliar flu-like ache she'd woken up with in most of her joints; she didn't really ever get sick anymore, or at least not for long. Once she'd fed, any injury or illness was wiped away along with the weakness and hunger that had driven her there in the first place. It had been long enough that feeling a bit peaky wasn't out of the question, and Bo certainly knew how to solve that, but...

Second and more immediate, the small bluish deer who'd set off the motion detector, now nosing around the security camera, eating... what kind of plant was that? Whatever it was, the deer was tearing into the mass of green with more relish than Bo had seen people tear into a sixty-dollar steak. Wait, was that branch moving?

Somewhere there was a button that would rotate the camera so she could get a better view, and another that would turn up the sound; it was only when Bo reached for them that she caught sight of her hands in the light from the bank of screens, and stared. No wonder her joints hurt; the knuckles were swollen, the skin over them silvery and tight, while other patches between her fingers were rough and dark gray, scabbed like she'd punched a wall three or four times -- in a black and white movie.

She'd have stared stupidly at her own hands for even longer if one of them hadn't been stabbing the volume key; the growls and shrieks that boomed from the speaker were impossible to ignore. Still, it took an embarrassing number of seconds for Bo's brain to process that the thrashing green plant being torn apart by the tiny deer was in fact a thrashing green gremlin being torn apart by a tiny deer.

Oh, good. No, wait. Some other word that started with g. Gross. That was it.

[Open should anyone want to bug her or ask professional questions she can't answer like "WTF is going on?"]

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Bo Jones. Or maybe Dennis.

December 2015

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