Vampire Rehab Clinic was certainly the way to describe their home. What with Mitchell still dealing with the aftermath of the Box Tunnel 20 and the household knowing about it. Though it had been a little while since then and they'd lost a few friends along the way, Mitchell thought he'd been doing well.
But of course that's how it works. He does really good and then hits rock bottom, yeah? Such as taking Hal out for some drinks, trying to bond with the other vampire, because he really sucked at that in his recent years. Usually he kept away from other vampires, but Hal was like him, trying to stay dry, though it seemed like the other vampire had had much better luck than him.
"Oh come ooon, Hal. The night is still young." Mitchell might have had a few drinks, just a few. Yet he feels it too, the hunger, the craving. It chased him, nagging him in the back of his mind since the murders. It doesn't help of course when they stumble into a part of town neither of them really know, a few late nighters wandering around the streets with them.
When the pounding in his ears starts Mitchell doesn't want to ignore it, but he knows he should.
"Just one more drink," Mitchell murmurs, as if not really there. His eyes are focused on a couple of women ahead of them, probably pub hopping, and he speeds up walking just a little without realizing.
This totally works.
But of course that's how it works. He does really good and then hits rock bottom, yeah? Such as taking Hal out for some drinks, trying to bond with the other vampire, because he really sucked at that in his recent years. Usually he kept away from other vampires, but Hal was like him, trying to stay dry, though it seemed like the other vampire had had much better luck than him.
"Oh come ooon, Hal. The night is still young." Mitchell might have had a few drinks, just a few. Yet he feels it too, the hunger, the craving. It chased him, nagging him in the back of his mind since the murders. It doesn't help of course when they stumble into a part of town neither of them really know, a few late nighters wandering around the streets with them.
When the pounding in his ears starts Mitchell doesn't want to ignore it, but he knows he should.
"Just one more drink," Mitchell murmurs, as if not really there. His eyes are focused on a couple of women ahead of them, probably pub hopping, and he speeds up walking just a little without realizing.