Mar. 10th, 2014

daniel_stacy: (derp?!)
[personal profile] daniel_stacy
He had stopped drinking human blood for a girl who was MIA.

Of course Daniel figured that was his fault, too. Get too loose with your relationship rules and suddenly there weren’t any at all. If their involvement could be construed as a relationship… He was fuzzy on that. Nevertheless, Daniel had given it up for Holly, and now there was no Holly, but he was still trying to hold out because there might (?) be a Holly at some point in the future and at this point, he was proud of his restraint. Not killing people might be the only prowess Daniel could muster.

But things got touchy when the butcher ran out of blood.

So here Daniel was in a pet shop, holding a brown bunny by its midsection, pretending to be in earnest search of a furry companion. The bunny’s eyes darted back and forth. Its nose twitched. Daniel inspected its undercarriage because he didn’t know its gender. Why that mattered when the idea was to eat it, he didn’t know.

“Have you ever cared for a bunny before?” asked a saleswoman in enormous glasses.

“No,” he said. “I had a dog once.”

“They’re nothing… like dogs,” she condescended.

“Really? Because my dog humped everything in sight, too.” Daniel smiled at her, trying to charm her. It did not work, so he said, “I’ll check out a library book,” just to get her off his scent. He carried the bunny to the shop window and looked outside. Daylight savings time meant that he had to shack up longer, so it was 9:30 already. The shop closed at 10:00. If he was going to drain this critter tonight, he needed to make up his mind.

A pretentious woman in a fur stole walked past the shop. Daniel covered the bunny’s eyes. "Look awaaaaay," he cried.

[Thread: Open to Anyone]
st_clare: (Bloody Hell...)
[personal profile] st_clare
Perhaps things had been going too well.

The bonding process with Valerie was still a work in progress, but the building blocks had been established. Her students were responding well in her classes. She was writing a new paper to be published, on the class system of the Victorian age. So a little bump in the road should have been expected.

What a bump in the road it was, though.

She and Rhiannon had agreed to meet in a neutral spot at one o'clock on Monday afternoon. The weather was warming up as spring approached, the days lengthening as Daylight Savings Time went into effect. Julianna had seated herself on a wooden bench where the Slayer could find her, where they wouldn't be overheard. She was composed, a little removed.

Duncan Neely's death had actually made the Las Vegas papers, and it was suspected to be a break-in gone horribly wrong. That was no longer Julianna's primary concern. If what she suspected was correct, it was really no more than he deserved. She didn't - couldn't - condone murder, but she was pragmatic enough to know that history had a way of repeating itself. With Duncan permanently taken care of, no other innocent girls could be exploited for the purpose of lining his pockets.

If the other girl was still alive, Rhiannon would know of it. The living should be focused on now, not the deserving dead.

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