(no subject)

[bloodplay]

WHO: a concerned young woman who wants to hang out with someone (egohalfempty) and her sensitive male friend!!
WHERE: BELIEVE IT OR NOT RUDY ISN'T AT HOME
WHEN: PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE BEEP (backdated to whenever it would be most reasonable for cyd to be freaked out)
WARNINGS: I MUST BE KILLING WHORES OR I'D PICK UP THE PHONE (seriously though violence against women and ritualized serial killing and blood, this one is actually pretty gross)
SUMMARY: WHEEEEEERE COOOOOULLD I BEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
FORMAT: quicklog

[ He doesn't like blood -- truth be told, he hates it -- but right now at least 95% of him is devoting itself to focusing on just that. The average human body holds somewhere between four and five liters; it can lose up to 40% of it before dying, and by his estimation the woman before him is rapidly nearing that milestone. This doesn't particularly concern Brian: the vast majority of people have never amounted to much in his eyes, which given his after-hours habits isn't exactly breaking news. They're obstacles to be circumnavigated, sources to be tapped, canvasses to be worked on. They're also raw material, and that's the purpose this particular one is going to serve tonight -- not a recipient for his artistry, but an experiment with what's inside. He'd toyed with the idea before, even given it a little test-run on the ADA, but a brief taste of hands-free strangulation wasn't nearly enough to satisfy his curiosity.

This probably won't be either, come to that, but it's a start. Finer details can wait for later; this is all very open-ended. The chief thing right now is hastening the exsanguination process, focusing ever harder on syncing with that sluggish, dying system, and seeing where that takes him. He's doing just that when the beautiful silence around him erupts with a tinny obnoxious ringtone, followed shortly afterward by the woman's throat. And blood. Lots of blood.

Even if he ever actually carried his secondary communicator around, the lack of a horrible MIDI version of this modern-day classic would have tipped him off. Whoever's contacting him, they want to talk to Rudy, and at this particular moment Rudy is the last person he wants to be. Reaching back and actually grabbing the thing once he unfreezes, which takes a while, is a very regrettable reflex move; he's already internally cursing a blue streak when he feels his fingers press against the worst possible buttons. Either way, he's trapped now. It's a good thing he's gotten so used to performing on short notice. ]

-- Hello? [ he says, rushing the word like he's just sprinted across a room to pick up the call. Brian balls his free hand into an ugly fist and twists it, sharply, to the right. The fine mist of blood removes itself from his visor posthaste. ] Sorry for the wait -- you caught me in the middle of something.

Comments

sorry this took me roughly a century!

[egohalfempty]

Rudy? [ She's trying to play it cool. Trying so hard. But she can't help it — a giggle comes out at the sound of his name. Because she basically reverts to a teenage girl around a guy she likes. ] I- it's me. Cyd. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to catch a movie or something? I'd be cool with anything but board games, really...

[ She bites her lip. Not that he can see it, of course, but he can probably hear the nervousness in her voice. ] A- although that reminds me. Things got pretty intense, huh? With the plants and the animals and—

[ Deep breath. Mostly for her own sake. Lowering her voice just a bit, now, all sympathy and concern. ] Well really, I–

I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

NEVER BE SORRY

[bloodplay]

[ When next he speaks it's all brightness and warmth, the hints of stress swept aside; there's an audible smile in his voice which is completely at odds with his actual facial expression. ]

Hey, you. [ He pauses, like he's trying to process the previous torrent of words and formulate a response. ] I appreciate the concern, but -- I've been through worse. You don't need to worry about it.

[ Much more true than she knows. Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk. ]

Truthfully, if anything does me in it's probably going to be work -- not that you can blame them, time off is time off no matter how involuntary, but still. Way less glamorous way to go than a cheetah. [ He exhales, low and audible but not quite a sigh. ] I've really gotta finish this one up, but... if you don't have anything coming up, let me get back to you in a bit? [ He just assumes Cyd isn't going to sleep until the ass-end of the morning, because come on son. Brian knows his audience. FRAUGHT WITH THE DEEPEST SINCERITY!! ] I'd like that.

[egohalfempty]

Worse?! [ She wouldn't be laughing like that if she really knew. ] Man, I must have the most boring life out of anyone here. The only dangerous thing I did before winding up in the City was running out of a burning building. Pro tip: Never give a teenager flammable, well, anythi—

[ Then, her brain finally catches up and decides to shut her mouth before she can shove her foot all the way up there – long enough to remind her that, hey, such a simple question shouldn't be a stunner! ]

You mean it?

[ Shit. So much for playing it cool. And, now, the furious verbal backpedaling: ] Okay, hearing myself say that, I know it sounds stupid. But– this isn't some elaborate prank where, say, you're playing nice and you're all "I had a good time, let's meet up" and then you send some mean girl to be super bitchy to me in your stead? H- hypothetically! Because who would be a big enough jerk to do that, right?

[ Even she doesn't believe the big PFFFFFT that escapes her lips. ]

Ugh. What am I saying? You're busy! I shouldn't waste your time with... really dumb questions.

[bloodplay]

[ He's pretty much testing out cleanup with dumb hand gestures during the entirety of her ramble! What a dick. He can scent insecurity like some kind of really douchey bloodhound, but if Brian didn't know better he might think Cyd's entire existence was one long, awkward piece of performance art. Since he does know better, he just kind of laughs in response. Chuckles, really, in that way that says "oh, you"; it's the verbal equivalent of an affectionate noogie. ]

Sounds like a plan. I'll call you, okay? [ Say something affirmative so he can hang up. Say something affirmative so he can hang up. Say something affirmative so... ]

[egohalfempty]

Okay!

[ Dear God, was that a squeal? Honestly? ]

I, I mean. Later, then. [ She coughs. Like that's going to cover the complete awkwardness of this moment. Or the entire conversation. ] We can figure out the details later. Maybe Xena? I- I'm always down for badass ladies swinging around weapons. Or whatever you want! Really. It's fine, I'd be cool with... anything, as long I get to spend time with...

[ No. No. Even she had her limits. She wasn't going to say something so mushy about a guy she hardly knew. Even though he'd been super nice so far and he really wasn't that bad looking once you got past his weirdly shaped face and had done that awesome knife-throwing thing at the party!!!

(At least, she thought that was him. It had been a very, very long night. The details could get a little fuzzy when bit of your brain was focused on not being devoured.)

Still. She wasn't going to say something like that. Not yet. Instead, she was going to laugh and try to end this phone call with some dignity. ]

Never mind. Later! For real this time. Really. Yeah.

FUCK IT I'M JUST DOING A COMBO RESPONSE 1/2

[bloodplay]

[ AND HE HANGS UP. Kind of abrupt, maybe? But surely not enough to raise any eyebrows from her quarter. Also, he really wants to clean up this crime scene.

Where, as it turns out, Brian's capabilities are remarkably limited! Most of the blood's already started to soak into the concrete, making it exponentially harder to remove, and ultimately it proves easier to force it to dry(confusing the time of death, or so he hopes) than anything else. The sheeting is less of a challenge, as is the immensely stupid plastic protective gear he's got over his clothes (literally picture a rain poncho you can buy off the street wow so sexy), but after that there's still the matter of stepping away and not leaving any shoe impressions in this Jackson Pollack detritus nightmare. And the body. Of course there's the body.

It is, altogether, going to be a very long night. ]

[bloodplay]

[ Around three hours later, there's a light knock on Cyd's MAC apartment door! Since everyone knows actually calling is for assholes. He's easily visible through the peephole, looking for all the world like a man with nothing to hide, with the questionable exception of the stack of (probably really shitty) DVDs under one arm. Also: recently showered. That's normal when you work at a hospital, right? You never know what germs you might be taking home with you. Certainly no blood was involved.

As for the night's more pressing concerns, they've been dealt with -- but only temporarily, and not at all to his satisfaction. The finer cadaverous details, for now, can remain mercifully left to the imagination. ]

[egohalfempty]

[ Well, that was... a little abrupt.

Not to imply that Cyd had, say, spent those entire three or so hours obsessing over why in the world Rudy wouldn't give her a quick "goodbye" before hanging up. That would be crazy. Right? Totally. Not to mention clingy, and neurotic, and all the things she was trying so hard not to be because she liked this guy!

Even if he was kind of rude.

Still — he had agreed to hang out. Without going on and on about how fake it all was. Or nerd-bashing. Or... downright creeping all over her... so why did she feel like this? Why was she glaring at the peephole, rapidly undoing her (several) locks and flinging the door open with a frown, shouting: ] Jerk! You should've said 'bye', or called, or e-mailed or at least found some way to tell me you were going to sho–

Oh.

That's, like, a lot of DVDs.

[ Already her eyes begin to soften. ] ...Please don't tell me you went out and rented that whole stack, because then I'll really feel like The Queen of the Banshees or some other mega bit– er, bad lady.

[egohalfempty]

[ Well, that was... a little abrupt.

Not to imply that Cyd had, say, spent those entire three or so hours obsessing over why in the world Rudy wouldn't give her a quick "goodbye" before hanging up. That would be crazy. Right? Totally. Not to mention clingy, and neurotic, and all the things she was trying so hard not to be because she liked this guy!

Even if he was kind of rude.

Still — he had agreed to hang out. Without going on and on about how fake it all was. Or nerd-bashing. Or... downright creeping all over her... so why did she feel like this? Why was she glaring at the peephole, rapidly undoing her (several) locks and flinging the door open with a frown, shouting: ] Jerk! You should've said 'bye', or called, or e-mailed or at least found some way to tell me you were going to sho–

Oh.

That's, like, a lot of DVDs.

[ Already her eyes begin to soften. ] ...Please don't tell me you went out and rented that whole stack, because that would have taken ages, and then I'll really feel like The Queen of the Banshees or some other mega bit– er, bad lady.

[bloodplay]

Well, if you insist -- I won't. Figured you'd appreciate the selection.

[ He does a pretty good job at not overplaying the kicked puppy look! It's totally there, though. Just subtle. ]

I also figured you deserved an apology, after... leaving you hanging like that. Stress isn't an excuse. [ He glances downward on the previous sentence and looks up now, all appropriately-muted eagerness. ] Let me make it up to you?