[ He doesn't sleep well, which is likely no surprise. And it's a good thing he has the cast, because he wakes up by thrashing himself onto his side and on top of the bad arm.
Fuck.
He's being held prisoner by a vampire who doesn't fucking know how to vampire, and who's going to get an entire city wrapped up in the bloodier kind of vampire politics because he's too fucking soft.
With some effort (he has to use the wall to support his weight to get close, and then reach up for it while balancing on one foot) he does, in fact, pull down the curtain pole. Not as a stake, just yet, but as a crutch. And he'd been meaning to try to bash the door down but it just- opens.
A vampire who really doesn't know how to fucking vampire.
He doesn't try to get attention, though the sound of his curtain pole crutch is not exactly subtle, instead wandering off in search of something. A writing implement. A surface to use it on - the floor of his 'cell' will function well enough if necessary. And sand, or rice, or salt. Something made up of grains. ]
no subject
Fuck.
He's being held prisoner by a vampire who doesn't fucking know how to vampire, and who's going to get an entire city wrapped up in the bloodier kind of vampire politics because he's too fucking soft.
With some effort (he has to use the wall to support his weight to get close, and then reach up for it while balancing on one foot) he does, in fact, pull down the curtain pole. Not as a stake, just yet, but as a crutch. And he'd been meaning to try to bash the door down but it just- opens.
A vampire who really doesn't know how to fucking vampire.
He doesn't try to get attention, though the sound of his curtain pole crutch is not exactly subtle, instead wandering off in search of something. A writing implement. A surface to use it on - the floor of his 'cell' will function well enough if necessary. And sand, or rice, or salt. Something made up of grains. ]