While Howard holds himself to a certain level of morality, even he knew that there were times when he would have to break his own code of conduct if he had to survive.
This place was foreign to him, and unlike other cities where it would have been as easy as popping into a bar or asking a local witch for a supply of blood, he would have to resort to the old reliable -- blood banks. All you really had to do was Google the nearest blood donor centre, normally married to a hospital for obvious reasons, and roll up to the front door.
Only this time Howard needed far more than just a bag or two from the back. He needed to compel the security guards to meander elsewhere (check), while he destroyed surveillance cameras in the area (check), find a place to hide nearby (check) -- which was a lot of work for one night. His nose began to bleed; he wondered how other vampires could do this easily.
It was quite funny when he thought about it, actually, as he waited around the back of the building for a nurse to wheel out five litres worth of blood bags for him; when the nurse was literally there for him to drink from instead. There were others working that night shift -- he could have just compelled them all to come one after another and sink his teeth in.
That, of course, was too far astray from what he deemed necessary to keep him alive. The thralled nurse ambled to the side, lingered in confusion, before leaving Howard and the cart of blood bags in the dark of the night.
Fuck it, he'll have to down everything here and now before they coagulate. Howard sat down on the cold concrete floor, one blood bag in his hand. He weighed it -- it was already cool -- and sighed. Another Tuesday night, another robbery.
"Skál, I guess." He mumbled to himself.
@fantasystrangers , for Jareth Daray (or really any muse that you feel like!)
