Missing Pieces

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CanaryCry

CanaryCry

Edgelord
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Name: Arthur Koehler
Age: 25
Appearance: 5'10", brown hair, hazel eyes, appears exhausted almost constantly
History: At a young age he fell in love with music and became known as a prodigy on the violin, but as he grew older and the nature of increasing competition wore on him, he began a downward spiral into stress and anxiety. Rather than miss competitions or concerts and disappoint is parents, he began a habit of drinking in his spare time before he was legally old enough, which eventually slipped into the use of recreational drugs and led to his suddenly and completely removing himself from the music scene and his former life entirely. When a fellow addict introduced him to the high of a vampire's bite he made it his drug of choice, thinking it wasn't as horrible for his body and mind as others. After several years of acting as a food source for supernaturals, he's finally finding the consequences of his actions, losing small chunks of his short term memory at random times, but is in denial that one thing caused the other.
Personality: Arthur is a very go with the flow, 'how bad could it be' type person. He's quick to smile or laugh, often at his own expense, and can get along with just about anyone. He does have a point where he'll put his foot down, eventually, as he knows from experience that if he lets anyone start to actually push him around they'll never stop.
Other: Lives in a community known to house vampires, in a small-ish apartment meant mostly for those who are willing to feed them for a fee. Arthur has made a name for himself in that community as someone who keeps a careful schedule, doesn't tie himself down to one vampire, and will take just about any request. Living far from his home town, he hopes no one will recognize his name or face from back in his musician days.





The rain was the first thing Arthur noticed as he came to, soaking through his clothes, going through his shoes all the way to his socks. It wasn't the worst sensation he'd ever felt, nor the worst way he'd ever woken up from a night of drinking, but he was sitting on a bench, outside, in the rain, and he had no idea how he'd gotten there. How much had he lost this time, he wondered, anxiety crawling through the mud that appeared to be filling his brain. Everything was slow, muted. All he could hear was rain and all he could think of was trying to puzzle out how he'd gotten to the bench.

When the realization finally hit him, Arthur managed a faint, exhausted sort of smile at the memory of where he'd been and what had happened. One of his regular clients had hired him out for their niece to feed from him, because the woman wasn't very experienced with live food and because Arthur would do whatever they asked him to. They'd given him the smoothest whiskey he'd ever drank in his life - and kept giving it to him until he could hardly stand up on his own, until it did its job and changed the very taste of his blood, let her get drunk herself just from taking it from him.

He'd told her he would need water after. He hadn't thought he would need to explain that the water was for drinking.

It was almost funny, he thought as he used the arm of the bench to get to his feet and start making his way back to his apartment - and perhaps he would've continued thinking it was funny if the earth didn't immediately start to rotate under his feet the second he let go. He made it two or three dizzy, wobbling steps before finally drifting so far to the side his foot slipped off the concrete into the grass and he suddenly found himself lying on the ground. Maybe he would just sleep there, he thought as black crept quickly in at the edges of his vision, and started to close his eyes. It wasn't as if he had much choice about it.


When he started to drift back to consciousness, Arthur wished not for the first time that he had just died instead. Beyond the low level, full-body ache, his head hurt more than it had in years, worse than the time he'd nearly ODed and woken up in a hospital bed. Even beyond just that, fatigue dragged at his bones so persistently he almost couldn't manage the effort of turning onto his side and cradling his head in his hands with a pitiful little whine. Thankfully, he was rather used to the nausea following a night of too much drinking and was at least relatively certain he wasn't actually going to throw up.

As he acclimated to the pounding, stabbing pain in his skull, Arthur managed to pry his eyes open enough to figure out which part of his apartment he'd managed to drag himself to, only to realize with a sort of sinking dread that was beginning to become familiar that he was not in his apartment at all. He was, in fact, somewhere he had literally never seen before, and had no idea how he'd gotten there. As much as he had privately acknowledged that the little lapses in memory were getting worse, he had never come back to himself somewhere without it looking at all familiar.

The dread was beginning to twist into panic even as he told himself to just breathe, wait out the pain until he could find it in himself to sit up and look around. It would come back to him. If he just stayed calm, he would remember where he was, and who with, and what they had done before he'd lost consciousness, and everything would be fine. Everything would be fine. Right?
 
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Name: Quinn Delacroix

Age: Turned at 23

Appearance: 0afb5913c3323f539b420d1ccdbbacec.jpg


History: Quinn had been stuck under the thumb of her creator, her master, for a long, long, time. A sadistic man who kept her on a tight leash, forcing her to obey his every whim, endure his every cruelty, even assist him in his atrocities. Finally, though, her life had changed for the better, when her master was slain. For the first time since she'd be forcibly turned into a creature of the night, her mind, her will, her very soul, were hers again. Though she remains a little lost and unsure of what her future looks like, for now, she is satisfied simply having her freedom and indulging in all the things her master had kept from her.

She'd just started to move into an apartment in the city, a community for Vampires and those that chose to live alongside them. She hoped to find support from others like her, but she wasn't looking to join a coven, so this was a sort of middle ground.


He would find himself laying on a plush chaise, there were blankets underneath and on top of him, but he had been stripped of his wet clothes, left with only his underwear. The chaise faced a wall that was floor to ceiling windows, giving an uninterrupted view of the city below and the stars above. Rain pattered against it softly, as moonlight shined through, illuminating the surrounding apartment. There were a number of sealed boxes, indicating the current occupant had only just moved in. The decor and furniture that he could see, was tasteful and obviously expensive.

"So... you are alive then." A soft voice spoke up from behind him, sounding both amused and disapproving. The living room joined the kitchen, separated somewhat by a long, black marble, kitchen counter top. There she sat, on one of the high leather bar stools. Her legs crossed, her elbow on the counter as she rested her chin in her hand, she stared at him with curiosity. Dressed in a black leather jacket, black singlet, dark jeans and brown leather boots, she wasn't really dressed for the cold rainy night outside, not that she seemed to care. "I was starting to wonder."
 
Hearing a voice gave him something else to focus on than just panicking, but at the same time it made his heart beat a little faster to think he didn't recognize it. He was not, in that moment, capable of getting himself sat up enough to see where the voice had come from, and he spent a tense few seconds racking his brain trying to figure out if he'd heard it before. The house looked unfamiliar, the view too high up and too opulent to be anything he lived within a few blocks of, and the presence of boxes suggested either moving in or moving out. Even without being terribly cognizant in that moment, he could recognize a set of windows that probably cost more than a month of his rent.

Had he met her before? She wasn't his client, she'd been mousier - he was sure of it, but also in the moment wasn't sure of anything. He had to take a moment to convince himself that everything would be fine. He would just get his strength back for a little while and then drag himself home like he always did. He'd woken up in worse places, right? Except usually he woke up with his clothes, and with the way his memory had been lately he had to face the terrifying reality that he could either have blacked out because he was drunk or because his problem was getting worse. Had he let himself schedule too many feedings too close together? Had he let someone take him to bed after getting blackout drunk? He had to figure it out.

"Was I breathing?" He managed with not some little amount of confusion at her statement, wincing a little at the rasp in his throat and using all his energy to attempt coherent thought when all his brain wanted to do was shrivel and die. He gave a soft, pained groan as he shifted more fully onto his side in an attempt to both get more comfortable and convince his limbs to work right. ". . . And my pants are . . . where?"

As terrible as waking up in an unknown place with an unknown person was, there was a part of him that wouldn't give up the effort of making it seem as if he'd forgotten nothing at all. If he was careful enough about it, he could fill in the gaps for himself before whoever it was figured out he couldn't remember anything.
 
"For the most part, although you were pretty far gone for a moment or two there." She replied with a soft shrug, though she knew he couldn't see her. After a moment he'd be able to hear the soft sounds of movement, her footsteps on the tile floor, the creak of a wooden cabinet and the gentle clink of glass as she busied herself in the kitchen. "Your pants and the rest of your clothes are in the dryer, I figured you wouldn't want to add hypothermia to your list of problems, which I assume is long enough already."

"Nor did I want my furniture ruined, you already made quite the mess in the lobby, elevator and hallway." She added with that same hint of amusement, the sound of her footsteps grew louder as she came around to the front of the chaise. In her perfectly manicured hand, she held a tall crystal glass filled with cold water, which she offered to him wordlessly. "So, was it alcohol, drugs?" Brief flashes of bright white were visible as she spoke, the moonlight illuminating her fangs. "Or did you let one too many bloodsuckers have at you?" "Or one with no self-control?"
 
That was nice of her. It was a strangely mundane thought to have in the middle of a crisis, enough so that he almost laughed, which he was sure would be at least mildly painful. Taking his clothes to launder them was considerate, for someone he apparently had no other ties to. At the very least it answered a few questions, enough to give him a little relief even though he recognized the judgement in her tone. His clothes had been wet when she'd either met him or dragged him, depending on his level of consciousness, so less than a couple hours had probably passed and he had likely spent most of them passed out. Good. Sort of.

Despite all of his failings, Arthur did have the good grace to look sheepish at the thought of ruining her furniture, which probably cost as much as his car if the parts of the room he could see were any indication. "Sorry?" He managed almost questioningly, unsure if he'd actually ruined anything but willing enough to apologize even if he couldn't afford to fix it. Her shuffling about the room behind him somewhere convinced him to attempt moving, and by the time she'd reached him he'd managed to get to an elbow at least and looked a bit groggily at what she held out to him before managing to identify it.

"Oh. Thanks." His hands were shaking, a tremor he was sure he would feel from his head to his toes if he attempted to stand, but he managed to take the glass without dropping it and take a couple very careful sips before attempting speech again. "Call it all of the above?" He offered when he could, resting the glass against the cushion beneath him so he wouldn't have to bear the weight despite holding it up, and gave her a small, hesitant sort of smile. "Didn't exactly end how I thought it would."

He did remember what had happened before finding himself sitting out in the rain, at least. He just hadn't stopped to use his brain long enough to realize that the amount he'd drank was too much when combined with rapid blood loss. By the time the point of no return came, he'd been too plastered to realize it, and too eager for a fix to stop regardless. The fact that she disapproved was clear, as was the fact that she wasn't human. Now he just had to do damage control and wake up his reasoning abilities enough to figure out whether she was purely a good Samaritan or aimed to keep him around.
 
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Once he took the glass from her, she stepped back and sat down on one of the plush armchairs facing him. She crossed her legs, her back perfectly straight, as she studied him for a moment. Her question about how he'd ended up like this had really been a question, he had reeked of the admittedly high quality, booze he'd drowned his mind in. Not only that, but the marks on his neck, some older, some very fresh, had told their own tale. She knew the bite of her own kind very well, and whoever had fed on him last, had obviously been inexperienced.

"Whoever left you passed out in the rain obviously didn't care too much for your well-being." She said mildly, her gaze going to his neck. "Whoever fed from you clearly didn't either, though I assume they're one and the same, their bite was sloppy, and judging by the state of you, they took far too much." Her manner of speaking was a little odd, formal and cultured, but with the occasional slip into more relaxed words and phrases. It was clear that she disapproved of the one who'd left him like this, though she didn't say as much.

"You should be more careful, anyone could have taken advantage of you." She chided with clear disapproval, but there was concern in her voice, as if she was scolding a foolish child for doing something dangerously stupid. "If I hadn't of found you when I did, you'd probably be dead right now." With how out of it he had been when she'd stumbled across him, and given his condition now, she knew that wasn't an exaggeration, humans could be incredibly fragile, especially when they were suffering from blood loss and alcohol poisoning simultaneously.

She shook her head slightly, "anyway, what is your name?"
 
As he laid slightly propped up but as still as possible, holding a glass of water with a hand that would shake if he tried to raise it, Arthur went over the state of things in his head. A seemingly benevolent stranger had dragged him out of what was essentially a large puddle, his clothes were missing, his head was pounding, and he was relatively certain he was more dehydrated than he'd been in years. Certainly not good, but probably still not the worst situation he'd found himself in before.

"I'd call it a misunderstanding before I'd call it malicious," he said with a fractional shrug, though he did wince a bit at the thought of all that had happened. While he wasn't convinced he would have died if he'd laid out in the rain until he'd sobered up a little, he conceded that he would likely have fallen horrendously ill, and he wasn't about to argue with the person who had found him passed out on the ground like a truly pathetic tragedy had occurred. "I am grateful for that, by the way."

Unsure how to properly thank her or what he could really offer in repayment to someone who lived so opulently - besides what she was already disapproving of him for, that was - he only looked a bit uncomfortable and took a couple more careful sips of water, knowing from experience that he should go slow despite being desperately thirsty so as not to make himself vomit. "Oh, right," he said after he'd taken a moment, as if he'd forgotten, and even gave a little smile through the headache. "It's Arthur. Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances."

He did, at her scrutiny, absentmindedly brush a hand over his neck as if to be sure he wasn't still bleeding somehow. Vampire bites healed fast, preventing him from simply bleeding out once they were done feeding, but that didn't keep them from eventually beginning to scar once it had happened dozens or hundreds of times over a period of years. If he had to go anywhere important he usually wore a collar or scarf, but most days he couldn't find it in himself to be bothered. Humans tended not to see it as well as vampires did, after all, and he was sure they only concluded that he'd been down on his luck for funds for a while to have him so desperate for cash.
 
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He was obviously the better judge of whoever he'd been with before he'd ended up in the mud, still, even if it had been a misunderstanding, he'd still been left in a dangerous position. She knew it really wasn't any of her business, but she didn't like to see anyone suffering, especially when someone was getting taken advantage of, she'd seen enough of that to last several lifetimes. Besides that, she didn't like seeing someone treat their life in such a cavalier manner.

"I'm Quinn, it's nice to meet you too." She replied with a soft smile of her own, feeling a little awkward, she hadn't really spent much time around anyone besides her former master, and this wasn't exactly the most normal interaction. "So... I take it you're one of the...." She paused a moment, they'd been described to her as feeders, but she doubted that was very polite. "The people who let those like me take from them?" She based that assumption on the marks on his neck, his condition and the fact that he seemed perfectly calm about that, and what she was.
 
Arthur had gotten rather good at simply accepting whatever situation he'd found himself in and rolling with it. It was what kept him largely calm now that he'd had a chance to get a read on the situation and to realize he probably hadn't had another memory blackout so close to the first, just an average drunken stupor. Quinn, as it seemed, was a vampire who didn't have much interest in him at the moment, or at least realized that if she wanted to try and drink from him he would probably just die and didn't seem inclined to make that happen. Despite the potential embarrassment and the odd situation of being mostly naked in a strangers home, he was relatively confident he could just rest a while and then drag himself home like usual.

Her hesitance to finish her sentence had him glancing over at her after another small drink, and the end to the statement pulled a smile from him. Cute, really, that she felt awkward about saying it. Maybe she was simply one of the odd vampires that preferred her drink cold rather than fresh.

"For a fee, yes," he confirmed with a slight shrug, so familiar with vampires and discussing terms around feeding that he was entirely unbothered by it. He probably should have been more bothered by his state of dress or the fact that if he tried to stand he was sure he'd end up on his face again, but he maintained that it was not the worst way he'd ever woken up.

"You didn't happen to find a cell phone in my pockets, did you?" He asked after a thoughtful pause. He probably would have asked sooner on an average day, but his problem solving abilities weren't exactly up to par at the moment. "If it wouldn't trouble you too much, I can have something delivered to help me get a little strength back so I can get out of your hair." Not that she had been a bad host or an unpleasant person, but he was sure he'd bothered her enough.
 
She didn't quite understand his smile, but she was glad she hadn't offended him with her question. She was a little out of practice when it came to polite conversations since she rarely had the chance, thanks to her master's influence she rarely had any pleasant company. Now that she was finally free again, she hoped to change that, though she wasn't really sure how. She hoped this community would let her find other like-minded vampires, though she had intention of being part of a coven again, not for a long time anyway.

"Oh! Right, sorry." She said with a little nod, as she got to her feet. "I set it aside to dry off." Disappearing for a moment or two, she returned with his phone, passing it too him before she sat back down as she had before. "Of course, I'm sorry I don't really have anything to offer you." She apologised with a slightly embarrassed look, he may not have been an invited guest, but still, she wasn't exactly being a gracious host. "I only just moved in." She explained with a nod to the various boxes, before smiling a little in amusement. "And well...." She gestured to her fangs, as if that explained it, which if he knew anything about vampires, which she assumed he did, it would.

As he looked through his phone, there was a thoughtful look on her face as she watched him. "So... why do you do it?" There was simple curiosity to her tone, and perhaps a desire to become a client herself. "I mean, do you earn a lot from your fee?"
 
Thank god for modern waterproofing technology, Arthur thought when Quinn walked away and came back with his phone. "Ah, thank you." He set the glass of water carefully on the ground to free up his hands once he had it, then carefully lowered himself back down to lie flat and hold the phone slightly above his face to browse. "Sorry?" He repeatedly mildly as he first looked up his own location, then started looking through what food options were available for delivery nearby. "You've done plenty already."

She was either someone who stuck very closely to rules of polite society, or else was a giant pushover. It was nice of her, at least, to want to help him more than she already had. He didn't exactly expect a vampire, especially one freshly moved into a new building, to keep human foods stocked in their cabinets.

When she asked personal questions he glanced her way, wincing slightly at the spike in his skull turning his eyes so far produced, and shortly went back to scrolling. "Money's good," he said with as much of a shrug as he could manage while lying down. "Rent's cheap, too. What apartment number is this? And are there any smells that bother you that I should be avoiding?"

He didn't exactly want to get too far into his own reasonings, given most of them were very personal - and he didn't exactly like to hand strangers an 'I'm an addict' sign upon meeting them - but at least he wasn't lying. He made enough money to support himself and his habits, and for offering himself as a feeder he got a discount on the rent from his small apartment.
 
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She knew she didn't really have anything to apologise for, still, the rules of etiquette had been drilled into her long ago, and though she was learning to relax a little about it, it was still an ingrained habit that was hard to break. It didn't seem to bother him any at least, and it's not like she hadn't broken the rules already, especially with regard to his attire, though that could hardly be helped.

His vague answer only served to rouse her curiosity further, but she just nodded slightly, not wanting to bombard him with questions. "We're in the penthouse." She answered with a soft shrug, rather casual about her wealth. "Garlic." She answered his question with such a dry tone of voice, it was honestly hard to tell if she was joking or not. "Are there many in your profession?" "Around here, I mean?" She asked after a moment, assuming he wouldn't mind questions so long as they weren't personal.
 
Splitting his attention while operating at half brain capacity wasn't as effective as Arthur imagined it would be. He was scrolling a bit mindlessly while trying to listen and only hearing what she said at minor delay, focusing in on the type of food she didn't like without much thought and only realizing what apartment 'number' she'd said once he was stuck trying to figure out if she'd meant it or was messing with him. The realization of what building he was in and at what level brought his single remaining braincell to a halt so quickly his hands went a bit lax and he dropped his phone, wincing as it bounced off his chin and onto the couch cushions.

"Fuck - wait, seriously?" He was frowning a little, confused and with a jaw that smarted slightly, though he was glad it hadn't hit him in the nose. "Penthouse. Huh."

If he hadn't felt strange about being nearly naked in a strangers home, somehow the fact that the woman sitting across from him was so wealthy she lived on the top floor of an already opulent building just drove home how much he didn't belong. The image of her carrying his limp body in the elevator for so long was laughable, if he'd had the energy with which to laugh at himself in that moment without it sounding slightly manic.

"I don't think I would call it a profession," he said when he'd had a moment to think, fishing blindly for his phone to finish ordering a grilled chicken sandwich - plenty of protein and carbs for energy, but less fragrant than a burger or other choices. "People come and go, but there's a decent amount around. Probably thirty or forty in my apartment building, and there's other places around."

Some people traveled into the area as if they were freelancers when they needed extra cash, others were simply down on their luck or enjoyed the high for a period of time before moving on. He was one of the few that was aimless, just floating around and living as he pleased without planning when he would leave or where he would go. It was far from his hometown and his past, and his needs were being met without going completely broke, so for the time being he saw no reason to leave.
 
She looked a little startled by his sudden outburst, then concerned as the phone struck his chin. "Are you alright?" His confusion over where they were, confused her a little. "Well, yes, is that so surprising?" She asked softly, sounding a little confused by what the big deal was. Perhaps she had spent too much time with her master, and his aristocratic friends, but she really didn't see what was so surprising or interesting about it. She could acknowledge how fortunate she was to have it, but beyond certain luxuries and creature comforts, it really didn't make much difference to her, after all, it couldn't replace the things she lacked.

"I wasn't sure what else to call it." She said with a soft shrug, "it's a service you provide, and you're compensated for that service, what else would you call it?" She asked curiously, seemingly rather fascinated by the whole thing. "I apologise if I'm asking you too many questions, but I'd never heard of people willing to do this before I moved here."
 
Arthur gave his chin a little rub but otherwise didn't pay much attention to the vaguely sore spot his phone had caused. Even if it had hurt more he was sure the horrible aching in his skull would overshadow it in short order. He was more taken aback by the shock.

"Well, yeah," he answered a bit distractedly, doing his best to focus long enough to make sure his payment and delivery information was correct so he could finish his order and get it on its way to him. "The penthouse of anywhere is like, hundreds of miles out of my league, so. Bit surprised someone who lives here would bother with someone like me."

He'd been opulent places before, sure, but only a handful of times, and only back when he was young and had the opportunity to spend his time in concert halls he wouldn't be caught dead in anymore. Rich people didn't always strike him as particularly charitable as far as their time, energy, or homes went. He was sure none of the ones he'd met would ever have dragged him out of the mud and let him stay in their house - called the police to come get him, sure, but that was about the extent of their giving nature if it didn't involve donating money for publicity.

"Contracting at best," he continued once his order was accepted, locking his phone and setting it absentmindedly on his chest so he wouldn't have to put forth any effort putting it somewhere else. "Profession implies some sort of skill set being involved." He gave a shrug, rubbing at his temples a bit and finally just closing his eyes with a resigned sort of sigh. It was probably best he just allow himself to rest until he could eat something and regain some energy. "I don't mind. Kinda firing on half cylinders right now."

He was certain he'd been intelligible so far, given the alcohol had sadly burned off already, but the lingering dehydration, headache, and minor body aches were really not helping his ability to concentrate.
 
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She frowned slightly, she supposed she couldn't blame him for thinking badly of those with wealth. Based on her own experiences with those who held such extravagant riches, she could see how he could get the impression that they didn't care for those less fortunate than them, it was the unfortunate truth that he was right a lot of the time. Of course, she didn't judge the wealthy as a whole by those that she'd known, they were a coven of greedy, cruel, monsters, vampires who shared far too many similarities with her former master.

Still, she didn't appreciate being lumped in with such people. Though again, it's not like she could blame him, he didn't know her at all, they were perfect strangers. "I don't see things that way, money doesn't make anyone more worthy of anything." She said with a soft shrug, not sure how to explain her feelings on the mater without getting into a whole monologue about it, which she was sure he had no interest in hearing right now. "I saw you needed help, and so I helped you." She said simply, it didn't matter who he was, she had the opportunity and the means to help him, and so she had, simple as that.

"You should rest until your food gets here." She said softly, he certainly looked like he could do with it. "I'll let you do that." She said as she got to her feet, "I'll see if your clothes are finished yet."
 
"Thank you for that," Arthur murmured tiredly in response, "if I haven't said it yet." He was sure there was some sort of insult somewhere accusing someone of leaving him to die because they had money, but he hadn't really meant it that way, and not all of the rich people he'd known in the past had been awful people. Some were downright decent. It was only that he had become something less than decent himself, and wasn't worth the effort in his own eyes. If he didn't see himself as worth much, why would anyone?

To her suggestion he rest, he gave only a soft, affirmative hum, having felt exhausted but aware before and quickly devolving into groggy the moment he'd let himself shut his eyes again. It felt as if he'd only drifted to sleep for a moment, but was woken when there was a knock on the door, in time to hear a very confused delivery man offering a hesitant 'Delivery for Arthur?' in way of explaining his presence. Delivering to a vampire was probably not something he did every day, the human thought wearily even as he forced himself to start moving. He would have to add a bigger tip later on.

Letting Quinn deal with her own door, Arthur focused on the gargantuan effort required to get himself sitting up, first turning to his side and shifting his legs out of the blanket until his feet rested on the ground, then pushing slowly with both arms to support himself until he was largely upright. He made only a soft, pained sound when he was finally sitting up, resting his head in his hands for a moment to gather himself and taking slow, measured breaths to be sure he wouldn't actually get dizzy. The blanket was at least still draped over his lap, so to some he supposed he was mostly decent and didn't bother asking after his clothing since he was sure he would still fall if he tried to stand. When Quinn's footsteps approached he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and rubbed at the stiffness in his neck to wake himself more fully.

"For me?" He said absentmindedly when she gave him his delivery, joking lightly out of habit. "Aw, you shouldn't have."
 
She left him alone to rest as she headed off to the laundry room, his clothes had been soaking wet and covered in mud, so she'd taken the liberty of washing first, then drying them. She busied herself with folding them, as she waited for his delivery.

Though she was sure it would help, she didn't think a single meal would be enough to fix the state he was in much. She was sure he'd want to get back to his own home, but she thought that he might need to spend the night, he seemed far too ill to even sit up, let alone travel.

She thanked the delivery driver politely, her friendly smile revealing her fangs and seemingly making the young man nervous. It didn't bother her much, she'd gotten used to people's reactions, though she'd found that in the very brief time she'd been here, that her... affliction, wasn't quite as scandalous as it was normally.

Returning to the lounge, she passed him his food, looking slightly confused at first, then smiling a little, more out of politeness than actual amusement. "Your clothes are clean and dry." She informed him as she resumed her earlier seat across from him. "How're you feeling?"
 
She seemed unsure how to respond, and if he wasn't feeling so much like yesterday's trash he might've made a mental note not to make dumb jokes that relied greatly on sarcasm and knowledge of human phrasing. He had no idea where she'd lived before, after all, and whether or not there had truly been that many humans around that would speak to her. Every place was different.

"Mm, like I just did my first bar crawl," he murmured almost thoughtfully as he set the bag on the blanket beside him and pulled out the plastic, lid covered tray with his burger and fries in it, doing his best to ignore the tremor in his hands still. "Only this time I got ran over at the end." His muscles ached when he moved. That one was a new one for him.

"I'll take the shirt, next time you feel like getting up," he requested with a minute shake of his head, careful not to make his headache worse as he picked out a fry or two to eat first and be sure it wouldn't agitate his already unsettled stomach. "Think it might be a bit longer before standing is a great idea."

He would eat, he would rest a little, and then once he was steady on his feet he would drag his ass home, even if he had to crawl there. He'd gotten in her way enough already. He was sure he'd been on worse benders before.
 
She smiled a little in amusement at that, she wasn't enjoying his pain, it simply seemed like a fitting description, given how utterly miserable he looked. "Of course, but maybe you should wait on that." She replied with a pointed glance at his trembling hands, it was all too easy to imagine him dropping sauce all over his freshly washed shirt. "It'd be a bit silly to have to wash it again so soon, don't you think?" Not that she'd mind, it wasn't like she had to worry about the water bill, still it seemed rather impractical.

"Listen, would you like to stay the night?" She offered after a moment of silence, his comment about not being able to stand, along with his general appearance, had her thinking more and more that he shouldn't be going anywhere until he was feeling a bit better. "I mean, I'd be happy to help you get home, but it seems like a bad idea for you right now." She assumed he lived alone, or else someone would have noticed him missing by now, which she also thought wasn't ideal right now. Granted, she couldn't do much of anything to help him, but if he got worse, she could at least get him to a hospital.
 
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