#leonora rogers — interaction .

[tewwor]

+1 cat to inventory ( accepting ) — @gollldrush

A shrill meow cuts through the humid night air. The sound of small pattering feet follow soon after. Then heavier, almost more desperate footfalls after that. "Come back! C'mon, please!" He's pleading with a cat. A tiny, potentially nicotine fueled cat. It only takes a few more long strides before Cruor's close enough to scoop up the wriggling thing. But the momentum and exhaustion tilts his body all wrong. He barely has the time to right himself and not barrel into the only other passerby on the otherwise desolate street.

"Shit— sorry!" Cruor's apologizing before he's able to drag his eyes over and see who it is. "Didn't mean to.. Oh. Hey, it's you." The nice girl from that pub, yeah — he sort of remembers her.

[tewwor]

“Oh— I’ve got nothing but time.” He keeps it light, hardly teasing — like he’s doing an impression of being serious but knows it’s not convincing. “Rained in, remember?”

When beckoned, he goes without further prompting. Straightens his back and lets his eyes linger on the fullness of her lips; a distraction he’s been wanting to get lost in. One that he gets by feather light touches, each one feeling meticulously placed. A pleasant sort of sigh leaves him. Content. Tremendously pleased. All it takes is the slightest tilt of his head and they’re just a breath away. “I’m what they call a hybrid between a visual and hands on learner.” His hands slide their way to her hips, still loose but very much there.

“And I’d love it if you showed me.”

Her fear of rejection is easily diminished when she can hear him smiling. It’s not like her to be so bold – Amine likely knew that by now. Most of her bravery was boiled down into glances and looks, occasional indulgences such as this hug. For her to initiate something was a miracle in itself.

“I have a few ideas…” She hums, peeling away from him enough to resettle herself against his lap. Her hands rest at either side of his neck – a grin on her face. “… If you’ve got the time.” The slightest pull of him upwards, urging him to meet her halfway as she tilts her head, brushes her lips just momentarily against his. “I can show you, if you want.” Kisses are peppered to his jaw, the start of his neck - wanting more, though not without permission.

[resolutionsolange]

BILAN CULTUREL / NOVEMBRE + DÉCEMBRE 2018

Cinéma :

La Nuit nous appartient - James Gray

Une Affaire de famille - Hirokazu Kore-eda

Les Animaux fantastiques : les Crimes de Grindelwald - David Yates

The Ride - Stéphanie Gillard   (Corrida Audiovisuelle de l’ENSAV)

Leto - Kirill Serebrennikov

Livres & bandes dessinées :

La Passe-miroir, Tome 3 : La Mémoire de Babel - Christelle Dabos

On ne naît pas grosse - Gabrielle Deydier

Un peu plus loin sur la droite - Fred Vargas

Debout les morts - Fred Vargas

La meilleure des vies - J. K. Rowling

Sorcières. La puissance invaincue des femmes - Mona Chollet

Jeu mortel - Moka

Le Voyage de Marcel Grob - Philippe Collin, Sébastien Goethals

Les Passagers du Vent : Le Sang des cerises, livre 1 - François Bourgeon

Bienvenue (3 tomes) - Marguerite Abouet, Singeon

Appelez-moi Nathan - Catherine Castro, Quentin Zuttion

Leonora - David B., Pauline Martin

Bonne journée - Olivier Tallec

Ces jours qui disparaissent - Timothé Le Boucher

Dans la combi de Thomas Pesquet - Marion Montaigne

Fictions interactives :

Harmonia - Liza Daly

Stone Harbor - Liza Daly

Expos :

Mitsuo Shiraishi : Ténèbres lumineuses - Musée des Beaux-Arts, Mulhouse

Projections privées :

Les Animaux fantastiques - David Yates

Jupiter Ascending - Lana & Lilly Wachowski

Schmitke - Štěpán Altrichter

Toy Story 2 - John Lasseter, Ash Brannon, Lee Unkrich

Astérix : Le Domaine des dieux - Louis Clichy, Alexandre Astier

Fahrenheit 451 - François Truffaut

Bird Box - Susanne Bier

The Shawshank Redemption - Frank Darabont

Siti - Eddie Cahyono

Ad Vitam - Thomas Cailley, Sébastien Mounier

Halt and Catch Fire, saison 3 - Christopher Cantwell, Christopher C. Rogers

Black Mirror, saison 4 - Charlie Brooke

Découvertes musicales récentes :

( Marianne Faithfull - In My Own Particular Way   /   Bobby McFerrin - Circle Song 6   /   Automatisme - Simultanéité 3 )

[tewwor]

mom express delivery — @gollldrush

“Ooooh Leooo, doooooll. You’ll never guess what I found at the stooooore!” Kingfisher calls out in a singsong manner as she sashays her way inside. Two massive plastic bags hang from each hand. Both of which are placed on top of the coffee table despite the lack of space.

“Now, I don’t know how you feel about secondhand clothes.. So this bag’s full of ‘em and this bag isn’t. But I really think you’re really gonna like what I found. Got different sizes too in case you’re more into a fitted or baggy style. Go on, take a look— and don’t feel any sorta bad way if they’re not your thing. I can always return them, alright?”

[tewwor]

about to file his fangs down ( accepting ) — @gollldrush

"I feel sick—" No, he feels great. But that's the sickening part of it, isn't it? Even if this is all done for the 'greater good'.. Blood is still blood is still blood, no matter who or what it comes from. The heavy taste of it still coats his tongue, thick and warm and too much. His stomach churns, or rather — it's rejoicing, finally being filled with some sustenance at long last.

[tewwor]

❤️ Leo & Cruor!

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME - Send my character a ❤ and I'll fill in the form of what my character would do with yours. — @gollldrush

AFFECTIONATE — Holding hands | Cheek kisses | Hugs from behind | Cuddling | Hand kiss | PDA | Spooning | Shared baths ( it's doable but good luck fitting ) | Whispers | Affectionate texts ( daily morning and night texts! ) | Caressing | Stroke hair | No displays of affection | extra: he loves to be close physically, massages, hand and belly kisses ( y'know what i'm talking about ), small notes scattered everywhere to find, likes it when she doodles on the blank statue tattoo

SEX — Shower sex ( he knows the statistics of how many accidents happen like this ) | Wall sex | Neck bites ( if she's into it, yes, but otherwise it's more a nibble ) | Oral ( his fav way to spend time actually ) | Morning sex | Drunk sex | Public sex ( he will he babbling about all the 'what if's' but is still down regardless ) | Backseat of car ( probably will hit his head somehow ) | BDSM ( willing! ) | No sex | extra: typically likes to take his time, he's needy and verbalizes it a lot over time, switch, down to do just about anything leo would want, he'd have water and towels and everything prepared beforehand so he won't have to lessen after sex cuddling time

DATES — Picnic | Cinema | Restaurant | Sports game ( he gets antsy in huge crowds ) | Hike | Coffee | Museum ( don't know much but it's still fascinating ) | Club ( had 1 experience in a club and it ended terribly ) | Bar | Beach | No dates | extra: drawing together, maybe come up with ideas to customize his skateboard, take marlo on walks / picnic with them in one of those clear cat bags, does napping count?

Would my character….

Marry them? Yes | No | open to it!

Have sex on the first date? Yes | No ( unless the other party explicitly states the desire )

Confess their attraction first? Yes ( lack of brain to mouth filter ) | No

Have children/adopt? Yes | No ( deep down, he worries about being a father to anyone — yes this will translate to marlo )

Die for your character? Yes | No

Cheat on your character? Yes | No

Lie to them? Yes ( everything about the marked ) | No ( everything else )

Cuddle after sex? Yes ( every single time ) | No

[tewwor]

He waits patiently. Doesn't mind if it takes an hour to figure out the right words.

Is it bad that he wants to smile after her explaination?

"I think I know. Kinda like how there's a you shaped hole in my chest when we're not together." Too cheesy? "Leo." Oh, Cruor says her name so tenderly, barely able to hide a croon that's begging to be made known. "Kinda sounds like you gotta crush on me." As if he didn't admit the same just now. But he's smiling. Grinning all bashful-like. "Just means we gotta make the time we are together worth it, right?"

"Just... I dunno." She hadn't thought this out, clearly. "Um, just feels like something is missing when we're apart, you know? Like... I don't really know how to explain it." Without sounding crazy, that is. "I feel better when you're around. Safe."

[tewwor]

"Or your name. A memory. Your time... The list goes on if you're creative enough." All of which could be just as bad as an exchange in soul. But some have fallen for it, so he doesn't bother to elaborate. Simon simply poses them as something small. Menial. No skin off her back if any of those options ended up being picked.

"It's a bargain for a reason. We can discuss all we like until something's worked out."

Leaning against the front of her car, she’s staring with narrowed eyes. Mouth gapes open ever slightly as her tongue slides along the backs of her teeth. Where the hell had he even come from? She looks around him, to the rest of the parking lot – clicks her tongue.

“Um…” Brows quirk up at the mention of magic. “Oh! Oh… okay.” A nod of her head and she’s laughing in disbelief. “And what exactly is the deal? You grant my wish in exchange for my soul?” A slight roll of her eyes then she crosses her arms, kicks a rock on the ground.

“Hardly sounds like a bargain to me.”

[tewwor]

Why's she apologizing? It's his fault for not being careful enough, wasn't it? "It's, uh.. —'s alright." Okay, so, maybe he's not doing so hot like he originally thought. Nothing he can really do except sit like the stranger suggested. So he does. Plops himself down with as much care as he can afford ( which isn't much ). Worst-case scenario, he'll send a quick text to the group chat. Face all the embarrassment of needing another member to pick him up. Again.

The cacophony of the pub's starting to get to him. Pounds his brain like a drum of hammers against an anvil. "If you don't mind. Water'd be great." Cruor tries for a smile and bets it looks horrendously pitiful. "Thanks."

This town was a fresh start – somewhere that nobody would find her unless she wanted to be found. Her name had been whittled down to the first three letters (how creative). While she remained mostly holed inside her apartment, there were rare occasions where the loneliness would drive her out. Be it a bar, or coffeeshop, bookstores. Anywhere that provided a modicum of human interaction, even if she still stuck to herself.

At least in here it’s crowded enough that she’s not really noticed. The pub was somewhat disgusting and old – filled to the brim with people three times her age, all screaming and yelling at whatever sports game was playing across the televisions. She’s halfway back to her seat with a tallboy when someone knocks right into her, sending her stumbling backwards a step or two.

“Oh! Sorry!” Leo laughs, mostly at herself – equally at fault for not paying attention. But then it shifts to concern, and she steps a little closer, head tilting curiously. “Oh, uh – here, um, sit down.” There’s a table close enough for her to steal a chair and offer it for him if he wants it. “Want me to get you a cup of water or something?"

[tewwor]

Safe to say the ruckus upstairs startled all of them. Even Cruor flinches some when the door slams. A quick glance at the ceiling, a deeper pinched frown, and then he's moving on from it. Ignores how the finer hairs on the back of his neck crawled for a split second.

"Yeah, actually." Cruor says it in a way like the thought hadn't occurred before. A touch slower, admiring-like. Then again he says, "yeah!" The question ignites a sort of giddiness within him. Normally, he's the only that really does that. Granted, drawing faces on someone usually warrants some kind of bond beforehand. But Leo's helped him with something huge ( Marlo's bath and additional cat knowledge absolutely counts as such ).

He inches over a little, makes sure his arm's out of the way and beams. "Professional or not— you can totally draw a face on there. Not saying that you aren't! Definitely draw a whole lot better than me." His eyes slide onto to the canvases around. They're good and he's almost curious enough to ask for a closer look. Maybe after this. Maybe.

Leo leans a little closer – though not too close, still respectful of his space. Marlo climbs into her lap and she absentmindedly scratches behind his ears, pleased to find his fur was finally drying out. Listening to Amine talk about his tattoos was a nice distraction from the thudding in her chest until he tugs his shorts up.

There’s a pause as her upstairs neighbors begin yelling and thumping around, music blares and then cuts off instantly. More yelling and thudding, a door swinging open and slamming. It makes Marlo jump (Leo, too) and she laughs at herself – scratches her nails down the length of the kitten’s body to settle him down.

Leaning back into the couch, she pulls Marlo up to sit on her chest. He seems perfectly content to curl up there, his tiny little paws batting at pieces of her hair. “So they're like little souvenirs from all the places you've been?” She eyes the faceless statue again, points at it. “I kinda want to draw a face on that.” A beat. “Would you let me?”

A little motion to the art surrounding them, like it might persuade him to say yes. Most of it is impressionist-style, but there’s a few more modern sketches here and there of people. Some of people she knew, some were random people she’d seen on the street. Just things to fill her time when she was between housecleaning jobs.

“I’m a professional, promise."

[tewwor]

He doesn’t notice. Or if he does, he tells himself not to. Personally, Cruor’s never been shy or reserved when it came to clothes ( or lack thereof ). But he's tried to be a little more considerate. Sometimes. Right now seemed impossible to keep his upper half covered. Just like Leo said, he didn't want to walk around with blood everywhere. Not just because of his own comfort, but most aren't as forgiving ( or nonintrusive ) as her.

A frown takes place at the thought of people similar to that asshole bothering her. "Nah, don't be. We came out of it alright anyways." As for the 'getting hurt' part... She doesn't need to know about that, or his strange ability.

Cat still in hand, he goes to plop onto the couch like suggested. Kind of bizarre to think how things wound up. What should've been a single target hunt turned into a new pet cat and having his bloodied clothes washed at some stranger's house. Wild. Cruor lets the cat explore wherever once he's settled; completely leaned back, slumped towards the edge of the couch instead of sitting straight up.

At the mention of his tattoos, he looks down — as if he'd completely forgotten about them. Cruor hadn't, he just has a habit of looking wherever pointed to. "These two, yeah." One tap at the spicebush swallowtail on the sternum, and another at the weeping willow. "This one was in New Zealand.." The jagged outline of a knife scar surrounded by a halo of shattered lines at the upper abdomen. "Dallas." An empty faced statue bust that usually has some poorly scribbled face near the right hip ( he didn't have the time to draw one on today ). "This one was.. Shit, I think Quebec?" The left end of his shorts tugs up to the mid thigh and reveal a plant man watering itself.

“Way, way too young.” She agrees with a smile, shaking her foot slightly so he can mess with the laces of her shoe. It’s another nice – and very much needed distraction from Amine pulling his shirt off. There’s an immediate flush of red in her cheeks (while mumbling ‘holy shit’) as she moves to turn the washer on, though she misses the correct cycle setting twice.

“Yeah, it sucks on this side of town. When I first moved here, people were always trying to mess with me. It’s crazy.” She gives the kitten a scratch under the chin as he’s picked up. “I’m sorry you got into a fight, but I’m glad he wasn’t hurt… or you.” Using the cat as a focal point doesn’t work now, not when he’s got him in his arms and he’s swatting at his nose and – she takes another step back, starts to close the door to hide the washer. Anything to keep her occupied.

“I think Marlo is a perfect name.” She reaches again, pets his cheek. “Not just because I came up with it, of course.” Rolling her eyes at herself, she looks back towards the living room. “We can go sit, if you want. Watch tv or whatever while your stuff washes.” Leo’s silently thanking god he didn’t have any blood on his pants or she might melt through the floor and die.

If he’s agreeable to sitting, she shoves herself into one end of the couch as much as she can. Trying to leave enough room for him and the cat without them touching. She feels like she’s been weird enough already, though if he’s noticed, he’s done a wonderful job of ignoring it.

Her head tilts curiously as she looks him over again. Eyes the tattoos. At least she can say she’s staring at them. “Those are cool. Did you get them done around here?”

[tewwor]

“Way too young to be having nicotine withdrawals.” Spoken with his best impression of a grizzled father. Well, mostly. He breaks the silly impression halfway and chortles.

“Marlo!” The name just clicks and he’s light up like a Christmas tree. Cruor goes to poke his head down the hallway to see the little guy, but pauses when his shirt’d mentioned. Stuff? He looks down, spots the rather small splotch of blood, and frowns. Not as much as his jacket, but just knowing it’s there makes him uneasy.

A sigh’s leaving him before he knows it. “Dammit.. No, it’s fine— I’ll probably stretch out your clothes too much. Unless you’ve been wanting baggier fits.” It’s his attempt at trying to keep things light. Might not be the best, but he’s trying. “Thanks for pointing it out.” Hands reach back to tug the muscle tee off completely. He tosses it in the washer and looks down when the cat bumps against a shin.

“Ha— nah, wasn’t gonna swipe him like that if he had an owner.” Cruor goes to pick him up, notices that the fur’s still damp. “Got into a disagreement with some guy. I was gonna walk away, but that made him more pissed. Then he threatened to kick this little guy. Almost did before I gave him that fight he wanted.” Not the best coverup he’s given, but hopefully it’ll do. No one’s going to find his target anyways.

“I think Marlo’s a winner. How about it, huh?” A little paw bats at his nose before a mewl’s let out. “Yeah, think that’s the one.”

“I don’t… think so?” Could they? She’d never even considered that. “Might want to keep a pack on you just in case, though. Heard the withdrawals are killer.”

Leo grins to herself as he goes over different names. “I like Tini! He is very small, anyway… I wonder if he’s the runt.” As if on cue, she hears his little meow from the kitchen, the bowl shaking against the floor. He must have eaten it all… that was quick. “Looks like he’s…” Quiet when Amine’s shirt lifts, exposes his stomach. Is she objectifying him? It’s not intentional – she’s just been alone for a while now, and it’s hard not to when he looks like that.

She’s zoning out a bit, almost completely misses what he says. A shake of her head and she’s laughing, uncaps the detergent to dole out the right amount. “Could just call him menthol… Marlboro? Marley for short, or Marlo…” A little hum given, her eyes darting down as the kitten comes strutting out from the kitchen in search of them. “Maybe he liked that one?”

“Uh – you have…” More blood, she can see it at the hem of his shirt when her attention is back on him. Must have seeped under the jacket. “… your shirt’s got… stuff on it. I don’t have anything for you to, um… wear, though.” Well, of course she didn’t. He’s almost a whole foot taller than her – anything she’d give to him would just look ridiculous. “I mean, if you want me to wash it with this.” A brief pause and she averts her gaze, stares up at the ceiling for a moment then turns her attention to the cat.

Thank god for the cat.

“I just, um… you probably don’t want to walk around with blood… on you.” And there was no guarantee the stains were going to come out of his jacket, anyway. "You beat someone up for that cat or something?" Joking, again - trying to distract herself. "'Cause I'd probably do the same. He's cute."

[tewwor]

Cruor watches like his life depends on it. Well, maybe his doesn't directly, but the cat's certainly is. So he listens closely, takes mental notes to research further later. Some part of him melts a little when the small thing starts to eat. Goes at the wet food like it's the finest meal in town.

He doesn't feel as faint before. Talking about the cat helps, even if he's still clutching the soiled clothing. "Ah— yeah... About the smoke, no about the name." The jacket's dumped into the washer and he's relieved to not have to look at it any longer. "Found him chewing on a lit cig. Wait— can they get nicotine withdrawals?" The concept's weirdly funny, but concerning.

"Nico's a good one. Tine.. Tini?" He's too distracted with potential names to notice how he's being looked at again. "Yeah, sure." It's not that high for him to reach, really, standing at six feet flat makes a lot of higher shelves accessible. He gets the detergent, doesn't pay attention to how the shirt ( is it even a shirt at this point? ) shifts and falls away from his middle with the movement.

He hands over the jug, still thinking. "Pretty sure it was a pack of menthols— Kool.. Cat. Too cheesy?" Smile lines and crows feet appear as Cruor chuckles.

“It’s totally cool.” Leo turns with a little bowl in her hand and a small can of cat food to match. “I’m happy to help, and this is all saving me from a night of boredom, so.” She grins and crouches back to the ground, letting the kitten climb across her lap as she spoons out food into the bowl. “There’s water bottles in the fridge, feel free to help yourself.” Leo glances up again and nods. “Yeah, kibble for sure. He’s probably… hm. At least six weeks, maybe seven. Just don’t give him any flea stuff, not until he’s eight weeks and over two and a half pounds."

Once he’s occupied with eating, she stands and motions for Amine to follow her back down the hallway. Her washer and dryer are hidden behind an accordion door directly across from the bathroom. They aren’t anything fancy, but they certainly get the job done.

“Think of any names for him yet?” She holds the lid open, giving him the option of tossing the jacket in so she didn’t have to touch it. At least, not while it’s still covered in blood. Which… she wants to ask about, he seems nice enough – but she refrains. “He, um, weirdly smelled like cigarettes?” A huff of a laugh as she says it. “So, if you haven’t thought of anything, I thought Nico for nicotine would be kinda funny.”

She’s standing a little too close now, so she steps back. Runs a hand through her hair and does everything she can to stopfuckingstaringathimlikethatjesuschrist. Her gaze lifts upwards to the laundry detergent and she clears her throat and motions up to it.

“Do you mind grabbing that for me?”

[tewwor]

It shouldn't have to be bad at all, he wants to argue. This shouldn't have to happen, it still doesn't have to, but some selfish part of him feels... Relieved. Cruor chooses to ignore it for now. Reflect on the conflicting feelings at a later point.

His mouth opens to answer, fangs now hidden, but snaps shut when a dizzy spell hits. Empathy cranks into overdrive and he eases them both onto the ground. Him sitting, legs spread open in a V, and her gently pulled down to sit between them. "About a.. Year?" Time's been blurring differently, and the drastic change in lifestyle certainly didn't help. "We can keep talking about it. M'fine with it."

“Mm, yeah. We will see. I guess it wasn’t that bad.” The good thing is that she’s not afraid of him, not in the slightest. Still careful with her, even when satisfying his own needs.

Red flushes through her cheeks when he corrects her on the garlic statement. It was a dumb thing for her to say – though it could have been easily brushed off as a joke. At least Amine never made her feel bad about silly statements like that. His laugh is enough of a reassurance that she hadn’t offended him.

Her tongue runs over her bottom lip as he explains, though it seems to only open more questions for her. Another wave of veritgo hits her, but she merely makes a face, leans a little more into the arm he’s stuck out to catch her. “How long have you been…” A wave of her hand. “… this way?” For some reason it feels silly to say vampire out loud, like she’s still not fully convinced they’re more than folklore.

“Actually, wait, can we sit down?” Though the dizziness begins to feel less oppressive for her, she’s not sure how he is feeling. Doesn’t want them to both end up in a pile on the floor. “Then more questions… if you want to keep talking about it?”

[tewwor]

He sees it again, the way she's staring. For the second time tonight, he's worried that a spot's been missed. The jacket should've shielded him from most of the blood splatter, but maybe it'd gone through? Cruor traces her gaze and picks at the side of his muscle tee. Moves it a little to uncover more skin and see if there was a hidden smear or something.

Thankfully, there wasn't.

"You sure? I don't want to impose— you've helped loads already." Who knows how he'd fare with giving a bath to some cat fresh off the streets? "I, uh.. Wouldn't mind if it got washed— only if you're totally sure it's okay, though." He steps a little closer, making sure to keep his gross jacket as far as possible, wanting to help. With what? He's not exactly sure, but that's how he's always been as a guest in anyone's home. "If it's really alright, then um.. Water would be nice? Actually—" He's thinking of the cat again. Glad it's full of life and clean. "What do you even feed something that small? Think it's okay to give it kibble?"

The kitten is taken gladly, carefully, like it’s the most fragile thing in the world. The bath is somewhat quick, though not without injury – a couple holes in her skin, accompanied by a scratch that’s currently burning. Besides being offended at being wet, the kitten is entirely unharmed – though the pitiful meows and screeches coming from it might make it seem otherwise.

She keeps the bath brief but effective- not wanting to stress the little thing out too much. By the time Amine returns, she’s got the kitten wrapped up in a dish towel with only his front paws sticking out. There’s a piece of string dangling above his head that he’s pawing at and trying to bite. A nice enough distraction that he’s forgotten all about the crying he’d been doing.

At the sound of his question, she lets the kitten be free to wander around, and hopefully not piss on her carpet. He’s still a little wet but it’s warm enough in the apartment that she’s not too concerned about it. He doesn’t go far, though; content enough to attack the laces on her shoes.

“Yeah, let me get-“ Oh no. She’s staring again – and it’s painfully obvious, again. “Oh- or, I can… do you want me to just wash that? You can, like, hang out… if you want. You probably shouldn’t take him anywhere until he’s, um, fully dry, anyway.” Fuck – she’s being weird, and she knows it, and it’s only making it worse as she’s trying to force herself to keep looking him in the eye and not at the cutout sides of his muscle shirt.

“No pressure to stay, obviously, but, um… can I at least get you something to drink while I feed him? Or food for you?” She bends, happy enough to use the kitten as a distraction one more time as she wrestles him into her arms and turns to fish through a cabinet.

[tewwor]

Oh, it was a joke. Right. Guess he's still too charged from the previous.. Doesn't matter. He's moving on, moving forward and entering the kind lady's home. It's a decent enough place, cleaner than his own, that's for sure.

When Cruor catches her staring, he's immediately afraid he has something on his face. Well, he does but it doesn't click until he actually looks down at the... God, that sure is a lot of dried blood. His lips thin in discomfort and he has to yank his eyes away. Onto the lady — Leo. "You're fine, I, uh, also don't remember." He tries for a reassuring smile, thinks he succeeds at least halfway. "Amine, and— thanks for last time. Really saved my ass."

The cat, tiny as it is, decides to make itself relevant by a shocking loud meow.

Startled, he almost drops the furball. Doesn't, but his hands had shifted slightly. "Um, yeah, actually. Here, I'll be right back." The kitten's passed over on his way towards the bathroom. With a soft click of the door's lock, Cruor fully sags against the sink. He gets the water going without looking at the mirror. Ideally, if he just splashes enough on his face, it'll help lessen the inevitable nausea. Maybe. Except, that doesn't account for his clothes. Mainly, his jacket, which he shucks off right after his face is clean.

He catches sight of the stain out of the corner of his eye. Remembers what caused it. That there's a body hidden in dead brush and bags of trash. His mind feels like it's detaching from his body again. The ground shifts even though his feet go nowhere. Shit. Shit.

Somehow, he stumbles back outside the bathroom. Down the hall and back into the living room. Just a little paler. Bunched up jacket still gripped tightly in a hand. "Is there a, uh, bag I can put this in?"

The way he reacts to her comment about not murdering her has an immediate look of guilt washing over her features. “Sorry – yeah, no, bad… bad joke.” A shy grin and she turns, awkwardly; ushers him to her house.

The inside looks like she’d ransacked an art museum. Canvases everywhere, some filled with paintings, others completely blank; little sketches framed and covering the walls. Some belonged to her, some were pieces she’d picked up other places. There’s a mixture of plants both dead and alive in one corner. The furniture is basic, things thrifted or scored off the side of the road. Despite the clutter, it’s obscenely clean and would be somewhat peaceful if it weren’t for the banging and footsteps from upstairs – neighbors with no consideration.

It’s much easier to see him in the light - and her eyes snap straight down to the blood stained on his clothing. She’d lived in this shitty part of town for long enough now that she knew it was best not to ask questions. But even with that in mind, she can't get her eyes to peel off it quick enough.

“Oh!” She clicks her tongue, purses her lips into a sheepish grin. “I’m Leo, I don’t remember if I introduced myself last time.” A little bob of her head from side to side. "I definitely don’t remember your name if you told me… sorry!” Her memory was pretty much shot at this point, anyway.

“If you need the bathroom or anything it’s down the hall, first door on the left.” A polite way of letting him know it’s okay to go clean up if he needs to. “And if you’re thirsty or hungry, whatever’s in my fridge is fair game.” Potentially overly friendly, but that’s just who she was (or maybe it was part of the midwestern charm). Regardless of his next move, she's warming water in the sink and plucking a bottle of dawn from the cabinet beneath it. "I can do this and you can watch, or you can help. Up to you."