YOU WANT, UH, A TISSUE? MAYBE SOME SOAP? NEW CLOTHES?

[dousing]

COVERED IN BLOOD MEME So you're a bit of a mess. Or you're stumbling upon a mess. What happened? There's blood everywhere, what the hell? Is it your blood, animal blood, the blood of someone you murdered? Hell, maybe you ran out of tampons. Anyway, no matter how it got there, you're (or someone you know is) covered in blood. Can it be explained away? If not, is someone going to prison? The hospital? Going to die of blood loss? Get in trouble for playing catch with the blood bags? Man, we don't know. The point is you have a mess to clean up. Or roll around in gleefully, you nasty fucks. • Top level your character. Include any details you might think are relevant. Or don't. As always, we're not the cops. • Reply to other people's top levels! • While this meme is bound to have a lot of potentially triggering content, content warnings for anything ott or very extreme are probably a good idea! • Have fun!

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[novembercities]

[ He has his doubts about the vomiting situation, but if he insists. The glove compartment of the unfamiliar car holds nothing of value, but there's a pack of scented baby wipes, which he promptly tosses at Egil. If his request is to not let him pass out, Jericho intends to keep him busy. He can already see the heavy set of Egil's eyelids and feel the slackness in his hand when he reaches out to rest it on Jericho's arm. He pulls out one of the wipes and gets to work on Egil's face, cleaning away the drying blood until he can see his skin again. Then he puts a fresh wipe in Egil's hand. ] Try and clean yourself up.

[ That's as much tending as he can manage, because they need to go. He checks his mirrors and sets off down the road, consulting his phone just once before deciding on their destination. ] Half an hour. Stay with me until then and I'll get you some clean clothes. How's the shoulder?

[norms]

Hurts.

[ The scent of the wipes is nothing short of disgusting, but he manages not to do much besides make a face, having pressed into Jericho's touch as he'd cleaned some of the blood off. He's really starting to feel out of it if he thinks any of this is going to make him feel better somehow. Or heal faster. Now, left with one of his own wipes and an order to attempt making himself look presentable, he idly scrubs at his fingers and watches the outside slide past them. It's not fast, but to his tired eyes, they might as well have been traveling at light speed. ] It's fine. [ A mumble, and Egil picks at the hem of his shirt, frowning at the blurriness of it. ] I don't know if I can stay awake for half an hour though.

[ That's asking a lot of him. Don't throw up in the car. Don't pass out. He mumbles under his breath, forgetting the wipe and placing his hands on the dash so he isn't tempted to lean back into his seat. If Jericho takes a turn too sharp, he's just going to tumble right over, but that's the risk he's willing to take right now. ] Where are we going? [ Egil still doesn't recognize where they are, but he's watching the world through half-open eyes. ]

[novembercities]

If it's that much of an effort, then don't stay awake. [ He's the one that didn't want to fall asleep with blood all over his clothes, but then that's one of the little quirks about Egil that no longer surprises him. If the situation wasn't so bad, he might have even smiled. ]

Somewhere safe. [ The Factory has safe houses scattered all over, and right now they're desperately in need of a place to hole up where no one can find them, somewhere Egil can wait out the effects of the bite. And while Amaris comes to mind, he doesn't think it's such a good idea to be around another vampire right now.

The drive passes in something of a blur. It doesn't feel long before he's pulling up to an old sublot of buildings, parking along the side and reaching below to unattach the wires he'd haphazardly twisted together. The car needs to be taken care of, as does the body of the vampire left behind. The murder is too obvious, and while it will be of little concern to the humans, it could start something ugly between the other types of species roaming about.

He makes a quick phone call to request a cleaner, then pushes his door open, circling around to the passenger side. Leaning in, he gently moves his shirt to examine the bite. ] Awake?

[norms]

[ He might have rolled his eyes if he'd had the energy, instead turning his head away and watching everything pass by until he's lulled further into a teetering sort of sleep that keeps him right on the edge from passing out. Everything is starting to hurt, and he wants to claw at the place between neck and shoulder, a touch of sweat chilling the nape of his neck. How could anyone like this? How could they want it when all Egil wants to do is curl up and die? It's dramatic, tinged with desperation, and he's almost unconscious when he hears Jericho speaking, moving. The weight of his hand shifts at his shirt, and he hisses low under his breath. It's tender. ]

Awake. [ He mumbles in agreement, licking at his dry mouth, swallowing, and suddenly, his fingers are digging into Jericho's arm to pull himself out of the car, sliding right out onto the ground. Egil crawls forward and promptly vomits against the rear tire, though there's nothing much to it aside from the bile that had churned in his stomach, and even when everything in him isn't heaving, when he's catching his breath, the nausea still hasn't passed. If anything, it feels worse, and the frustration building in the clench of his hands and behind his eyes makes him feel exhausted. Wiping at his mouth, he presses the back of his hand there like it'll keep him from doing it again. ] I told you I wouldn't throw up in the car. [ Any other time, he might have been smug about it, but right now, he just wants to lay down. Or shower. Possibly lay down in the shower—whichever combination of those things comes first. ] Did we make it?

[ He wants to assume so, tipping his head to the side to look around before sucking in a breath and climbing to his feet. Using the car as support makes it easier, but he gravitates toward Jericho automatically, the vertigo a little worse than it had been when they'd first found the vehicle. ]

[novembercities]

[ The angry slashes down his arm from the vampire's dying throes aren't anything that won't heal by morning and have been all but forgotten until Egil's fingers are suddenly digging right into them. He inhales sharply, but doesn't pull away for fear that Egil will plant himself facedown on the concrete, and yet he ends up on his hands and knees anyway, finally deciding that now is the moment he can allow himself to be sick. He knew it was coming, and he's silently grateful that he isn't the one tasked with cleaning the car and returning it to its original position. ]

Yeah, we made it. [ He gives him a moment to ensure he's emptied the contents of his stomach, then slides an arm securely around his waist when he stands, pulling him against him. The chills, cold sweat, exhaustion -- he remembers it all, and it will be worse for a human. Guilt presses against his lungs. He let this happen.

The buildings look like old housing converted into office spaces, signs for a variety of services lining the lot. They pass several doors to stop at one that looks to be in complete disrepair, but after Jericho twists a key in the lock, it opens to reveal a space that looks nearly identical to a modest hotel room -- two beds, a couch, a small kitchenette, and a pristine bathroom, which he immediately walks Egil to, dumping him atop the closed lid of the toilet before running the water and crouching before him to coax him out of his bloodied shirt. ] You need to get cleaned up and then you're going to bed. You're gonna have a rough night but I'll be with you. I just need this blood off of you.