Bo Jones. Or maybe Dennis. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nookiepowered) wrote2011-08-04 11:39 am
nookiepowered) wrote2011-08-04 11:39 am
71 Serendipity Street, Thursday Morning
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!]
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!]