there is no spf in the world strong enough to be out pre-7pm

[malignans]

Who: Dio Brando + you; Enrico Pucci
Where: The trek to & from the hospital; his shared home with Pucci
When: March 13th @ ~9pm or so; ~12am or later
What: Dio needs a refill on his blood supply; (most likely confusing) late night chats with Pucci
Warnings: Blood-drinking; will update as needed.

open.

[He is already a bit tired of having to make this trek, what with the winter weather still lingering in some capacity. He's also well-aware that he could simply order Pucci to fetch his blood supply for him, and he would do so without question. But when it comes down to it, Dio would much rather contend with the unpleasant climate of this little town over remaining completely cooped up inside. It's also only the second time he's made the trek so far . . . ]

[. . . But he is rather tired of this trek, and does not look forward to it next month. The thought occurs to him to simply abandon this cooler right here and now, and find something fresher to consume, but he knows himself to be smarter and far less impulsive than that. He needs to be patient for now. There will come a time, he knows it, when he might feed freely.]

[So, for now, Dio makes the journey to the hospital with both cooler and thermos well after the sun has set. He's polite enough to the few willing to be outside at this hour, the temperature dropping appreciably without the warmth of the sun, but he doesn't seem to possess a particular interest in lingering outside or slowing his pace much. When Dio reaches the hospital, he approaches the nurse's station, and places both cooler and thermos on the desk. The nurse appears to have been expecting him, smiling warmly at him as she takes both items, and assures him it will be just a moment and he can have a seat.]

[He doesn't take a seat. Instead, Dio leans against a nearby wall, arms folded and with bended knee to rest the sole of a boot against the wall behind him. He has no desire to sit and mingle with those in the waiting room, but he observes them silently as he waits. Once the nurse returns and calls to him with a polite Mr Brando, he collects his now heavier cooler and full thermos. He opens the thermos to drink on the way back, and those with sensitive noses will most certainly smell blood in the air.]

closed - pucci.

[Initially, he had thought of obtaining a separate refrigerating unit for storing his blood — it's not as though they lacked the space for it and would allow some evasion of any potential houseguests — but Pucci will never fill the fridge entirely, and it's the right temperature. So, it is into the fridge the blood goes once Dio returns home, and the cooler is left on the counter to be emptied of its remaining ice at a more reasonable hour. Or, well, a more reasonable hour for humans. As for the thermos, Dio's already downed the last drop, and takes the time to wash it out quietly before placing it atop the fridge once more to its proper place.]

[It is then that Dio retreats further into the house to the keeping room with a glass of wine and a book. A fire is lit to serve as the only light in the room, and Dio settles on the couch to read. One hand holds his glass by the bowl, idly swirling the liquid every so often before taking another sip, while the other props his book up and turns the pages. He's slouched in his seat, oriented toward the opposite end of the couch with a leg partially on the cushion beside him.]

I didn't wake you, did I?

[It's isn't sound or scent that alerts Dio to Pucci's presence. He's too absorbed in his reading, and the close proximity he has to the fireplace prevents him from noticing any of that without truly concentrating. Although he does not lift his gaze from his book, it's the movement behind the couch in his peripheral vision that catches his attention.]

Comments

[theophilia]

[Pucci makes a noise of understanding. It makes sense. It seems wrong, though. Dio shouldn't have to deal with that--with anything but the best of things. The flickering bits of memory he's recovered have gilt and shadow associated with Dio, dust and dinginess with the rest of the world. This is all wrong.]

Do you believe there to be alternatives? [A beat. He clarifies.] Sustainable alternatives. Given the circumstances.

[malignans]

[A sustainable alternative is a tall ask for this place. It may have a proclivity for secrets, but it abhors violence of any kind. Never mind that the population appears . . . limited given that although no one seems to ever leave, so few arrive.]

I won't lower myself to feed on animals, and I have no desire to draw attention to myself yet, Enrico.

[theophilia]

I apologize for being unclear. That isn't what I meant.

[He glances sideways at Dio, his expression calm, without an ounce of challenge to it.]

I was thinking more about volunteers.

[malignans]

[There's a moment where it might seem as though Dio does not follow Pucci's logic, but it is more skepticism than confusion that gives him reason to pause. For the first time since Pucci entered the room, Dio lowers his book, open pages resting against his chest.]

How likely do you think it is that I would find enough volunteers to satisfy my appetite?