∞ [ accidental video ] | backdated to sunday morning, before sunrise

[fatespoken]

[ Amory Felix sits on a kitchen chair, leaning against his arm propped up on the table. There's absence in his expression, a stolidity that Amory struggles to maintain, no matter what his appearance suggests. Blood soaks the right arm of his white button-up, decorated with large rip at the top shoulder. It exposes flesh plastered with dried blood. His hair, cropped-short, joins the bloodbath with matted clumps of hair. There's more, but it's cut off from the camera. ]

—the City, right?

[ ooc: Cursed with Road Not Taken! ]

Comments

[never_very_good]

Far as I know you didn't. Time's funny here though.

[He's got his suspicions, that Amory hasn't left at all.]

How long for you, you think?

[fatespoken]

Seeing as I don't even remember leaving, it's difficult to measure time. [ Absentmindedly, his mouth hangs slightly agape, revealing the tips of his teeth. ] You could call it a blur.

How does that work? I never left?

[never_very_good]

Long's you're here, time stops at home. Doesn't make a difference how long. Works both ways, sometimes. Gone five minutes here, who knows how long there. Weird shit.

[fatespoken]

And there's curses. What are they?

[never_very_good]

[This, probably.]

Fucking annoying.

How long've you been-- you know. [He lifts his chin to nod slightly. He'd say dead in his own but it doesn't work the same across worlds.] A vamp.

[fatespoken]

[ This should be an easier question than it is, but the uncertainty and the concentration it takes, to pull at recollection, is evident in his expression. His memories are a discombobulated mass in his head: there, though too abstracted for him to do more than glean sense. It takes him several minute to answer, and he resists the urge to use his fingers to count. ]

A... week and a half? Somewhere around there. At least a week.

[never_very_good]

Not going well, huh.

[It's only barely a question, Amory's state speaks for itself.]

[fatespoken]

My brother's always been supportive.

[ Sarcasm, at it's best. It lacks his usual flare though. ]

Things happened. Not their fault. Mine, rather.

[never_very_good]

[He flinches very slightly.]

Sucks.

[fatespoken]

He's jealous. Always has been, since I was born. [ He shrugs, then adjusts his head to look anywhere besides Frankie. ] If he had his way, he wouldn't have to babysit.

[never_very_good]

Need much babysitting?

[fatespoken]

Dad thought so, before he decided to go off an be a little martyr bitch. [ He shrugs again. ]

Not much 'sitting' going on.

[never_very_good]

Why'd you do it?

[fatespoken]

I didn't do it. I never made the choice, I wasn't capable of making it.

[never_very_good]

[Leaving the question of who did.]

Your father?

[fatespoken]

Even at that age, you can have attachment issues. Surprising, isn't it?

In the end, it's my fault.

[never_very_good]

Why?

[fatespoken]

I decided to do the right thing. Got me into trouble.

[never_very_good]

Sucks.

[Eloquence, Frankie has it. It's not that he doesn't sympathize-- oh, how he does-- but circumstances are different enough to make that impractical to explain right now.]

Can cover you at the bar 'til you get this shit sorted out.

[Which... shouldn't be more than a day or two, right? Unless this is for real. In which case Amory will have to buy his own blood once he settles back in.]