#daniel m.

[vitalphenomena]

@molloyed

SNIIIIIIIIIIFF.

Look, Spirit Harris isn't always snorting the primo shit. She hasn't not done meth before (many times, actually). But business is good in San Fran—partially due to the little fiend sitting not far from Spirit in this very moment.

She knocks her head back, sniffs again, and sighs—pure euphoria. Chemical rush. Never fucking gets old. She groans, then, borderline orgasmic. Like I said: the primo shit is often out of her price range; today, she actually gets to enjoy what has so many customers coming back again, again, and again.

There's also the heroin. And, well—any amount of that, of any quality, is gonna get someone hooked beyond reproach.

"Baby," Spirit says, sounding a little dreamy, "Do you ever, like, get so fucking lonely when I'm not here getting high with you? Doesn't it ever make you a little bit crazy?"

[slash-aaa]

i know i haven't been here, but i'm adding some muses for when i come back - d.aniel m.olloy, l.ouis de p.ointe de l.ac, and s.antiago from i.wtv.

[vitalphenomena]

@molloyed asked for: [ 14. ] sender unexpectedly arrives at receiver's home covered in blood & bruises.

SHE NEVER SHOULD HAVE LET HIM COME OVER THAT ONE NIGHT SHE WAS TOO LAZY AND-OR FUCKED UP TO TAKE THE TRAIN TO HIS PLACE. Now, Daniel knows where she lives. He seems to have committed the directions to her place to his state-dependent memory. That's the only explanation for why he's managed to make it all the way to her doorway given his current circumstances.

Spirit sees him through the peephole, lets her eyes go wide—but does not otherwise react.

In California, she's been staying with her entire family. It's cheaper this way, more convenient—and she doesn't intend to grow roots in this state. New York is her home, she's decided.

Anyway, what that means is that anyone besides Spirit could have come to the door, just now. Listed in order of increasingly dreadful ramifications: Juni. Burns. Lila.

Harris.

She undoes the door chain, opens the door just enough to slip out, and meets Daniel in the hallway. She shuts the door firmly behind her—slow, careful, quiet. Harry's got enhanced sensory perception like those vampires Daniel is so fond of talking about when he's too high to know better.

"Daniel?"

His real name, no endearment. Oh, he must be in trouble—like he wasn't already fucked up, lips all swollen and shiny, eye half-lidded shut and discolored.

Because it is not entirely obvious to her: "What are you doing here?"

[vitalphenomena]

@molloyed asked for: 12. [spirit] pulling [daniel] by their belt loop.

"Baaaaaaaby," she croons (if one can consider something "sung" out in such terrible pitch, so gratingly, to be crooning, though it was definitely what she was going for). "You still owe me from laaaast week."

She's veering dangerously close into whiny territory, with the over-the-top pout to accompany it.

"I want to get high, too," Don't get her wrong, on that front, "But I have to econimonical. I have to be a business woman."

She pulls him so close that their noses touch. She can't help herself—she kisses his nose, then his cupid's bow. After that, though, she's abruptly pulling away, retreating towards the kitchen counter.

"Harry is going to kill me eventually if I keep this up; you need to understand that."

[vitalphenomena]

@pul1tzer said: disappearing is not as easy as they make it look on tv.

LILA HAS ALWAYS LOVED THE TELEVISION. Even when it was in technicolor, she was fascinated, drawn to programs indiscriminately like a moth is to lights, even those attached to traps.

And it does rot your brain, you know, even when you're undead, even when your heart isn't properly pumping human blood, even when you'll never age and decay like your would-have-been peers. Lila spent a handful of years isolated from society by Dr. Richard Hayes; her understanding of reality, the way things actually work, was further distorted by the cursed television.

So Daniel's wry comment feels more like a particularly scathing call-out than anything else. It makes Lila grin.

They sit across from each other at the Harris-Hayes's household's wooden kitchen table. It is a waste of a dining space, as the Harris-Hayeses only eat out, so to speak. It's not like they're laying their victims out on the table's flat surface and feasting all together like animals from a troth. How barbaric.

Would be good for family bonding, though.

<<I guess not,>> she shrugs loosely, only mildly interested. <<Not if you found us. But we really did try our best. Are you good at your job, or something?>>

[vitalphenomena]

@rejectory // daniel

"Of course, they are sexy, don't get me wrong," Nothing was asked of him, "But I do have to worry about the natural order. Well, it's just—you see. Hm."

A surprisingly thoughtful look.

"Never you mind."

[inkonmymuzzle]