[Open] I wanted all the things that I haven't got

[firewalled]

Who: Rich Goranski and you!
When: Beginning of the month up until the event
Where: All around the city, including in Desmodus Mori and the refugee area
What: Rich goes about fulfilling some quests while also dealing with some monster changes. Also feat. a dash of punk.
Warnings: Some mention of broken families in the last prompt. Otherwise it should be good!



Anyways, here's Wonderwall

[Rich needed a break.

Honestly, most people probably did. Dorchacht had taken a lot out of the spirits of the people involved in that struggle, and even for the ones at home, Rich heard about what they had to deal with from anti-Bonded protestors.

And of course, there's been the whole issue of the SQUIP's continued efforts to get to everyone Rich ever happened to care about, which is making Rich more than a little worried about the new arrivals, especially Jeremy and Michael. He knows the two of them are smart, but could they hold up against literal magic? A freaking android apparently couldn't.

But worrying can only get Rich so far. And speaking of freaking androids, Connor had definitely given Rich a suggestion that's been kind of ingrained in his head as he starts looking for an outlet for pent up energy.

So after his shifts at the music store, Rich takes his guitar out from the shop, moves to an empty spot by the park, and sets up. He feels a little silly, leaving his guitar case open on the ground, but... hey, this is where most stars start out, right?

So he plays. His voice is fairly shaky at first, confidence not quite embedded into that aspect of his musical interest, but as he starts getting into the music, old classics he listened to freshman year of high school, his enthusiasm picks up, and he bounces around to the beat.

When he finishes, he looks up to whoever might have been observing, giving a sheepish grin.]

Any requests?

[His taste is unique, but he can stop playing anti-establishment 'fight the man' nonsense and pull out a classic love song if he must.]

Well, it's true that they say love bites

[The request had seemed fairly simple at first. Donate blood for some vampires to have a sustainable and consensual source of food and it's done. Rich wasn't squeamish, so donating blood seemed like an easy way to make some cash. Hell, maybe it was like the blood drives at school and he'd get a cookie after.

But when he does get into the bar, he does feel... a bit like he's bitten off more than he can chew. Particularly because he remembers now that this place probably doesn't have modern day needles and IVs. How in the hell does he donate?

Any vampires or regulars who know the drill should probably help the guy, who's now staring at his arms, wondering if tattoos were an issue.]

Carpenters: having daddy issues since Jesus Christ

[Even if Rich needed a break from the stress of last month, he couldn't completely stay out of it, so when he realized the refugees were in need of homes, he didn't blink before signing up. Whenever he has spare time, he's over in the area, helping move building materials and furniture around. He's not an expert in carpentry, but he took wood shop, so he knows how to at least cut planks of wood down to smaller planks.

When he takes a break from heavy lifting, Rich can often be found goofing off with the kids, teaching them games or telling them stories. He might appreciate a teammate to help him wrangle all the kids after a run outside... or he can always be scolded for encouraging the kids' loud laughter and screeching. But would you really ruin the fun of a dozen little kids, plus the biggest kid of them all?]

When you're half dragon but not even the cool Skyrim protagonist kind

[No matter how busy Rich attempts to keep himself, there isn't much he can do to avoid the changes, when they come. They aren't even noticeable physical ones this time... but they're still frustrating.

First comes fatigue. The rain probably makes everyone a little gloomy, but Rich wasn't expecting it to be this overwhelming. It gets to the point where he doesn't even want to crawl out of bed... and when he does, he can often be found an hour later, passed out leaning against a wall or just faceplanted on the ground. If anyone attempts to approach him then, they'll likely end up with a very cold teenager clinging to them until he's warm enough to come to and realize just how embarrassing he's acting.

Then there's a little itch, some urge in the back of his mind that gets worse when he passes art galleries and shops with framed paintings. He doesn't mean to, but he spends ages staring at the pictures, especially those of families... of happy, sweet mothers and brave, protective fathers. Happy scenes, no alcohol or hospital rooms in sight.

Perhaps you see him staring at one of these paintings, looking like he's going to swipe it off the wall at any moment. Or perhaps, if you carry any photos on your person, you may find them missing from your pockets, only to see Rich wandering past, the picture still in his hands as he stares down at it, making a beeline for home so he can add it to his collection.]

Comments

[halfmoon]

Yeah, of course. [ Makoto pulls a single flier from a stack in his arms and hands it to Rich. It contains the terms of the donation, plus the difference between a direct donation - letting a vampire simply feed from you - and what a person would normally think of when picturing "blood donation." ]

Direct donations are worth three time as much, but I don't know if we have any vampires here waiting for one right now. [ Unfortunately for Rich, Makoto is... feeling a little full, to put it mildly. ] You can wait, or I can just take a regular donation from you now.

[firewalled]

[Rich takes the flier and looks it over with a small frown... and maybe a slight blush at the concept of a direct donation. Still, if it's worth more money, Rich would rather do that. With Jeremy and Michael here now, he wants to look out for them until they find jobs they're comfortable with.]

I don't mind waiting! I mean, I'd do a donation now and a direct one later, if that's allowed. But if not, I don't mind just sitting here and talking for a bit.

[He wants to know what Makoto has been up to, maybe just check that he's not talking to the SQUIP someone dangerous.]

[halfmoon]

Sure. [ Makoto smiles softly at him and shifts his weight to his other leg contemplatively. Rich seems as peppy and people-pleasing as the last few times they talked - that's good. Makoto knows that the stuff going on with Dorchacht hasn't been great for everyone. ]

You wanna take a look at the regular menu and take a seat? Or I could just get something for you now. Water, juice, beer, wine, whatever.

[firewalled]

Uh, just a water, actually. To drink, at least, but I wouldn't mind taking a look at the actual menu.

[If the vampires get a meal, no reason he shouldn't get one too, right? Gives him an excuse to hang around, also... Rich needs people as a distraction, and he certainly is in need of one after the mission in Dorchacht.]

[halfmoon]

Sure, take a seat.

[ He'll need to rehydrate and restore his blood sugar anyway, following the donation, according to how the bartender had instructed them to take donations. He gestures for him to take a seat and steps away briefly to get a glass of water and a non-vampire menu.

When he returns, he sets them both in front of Rich. ]

I recommend the cherry pie. Or if you want more of a meal, the roast chicken is good.

[firewalled]

I wouldn't mind a piece of pie, actually. Sounds delicious too.

[He looks over the menu just in case something else catches his eye, but he honestly is more interested in conversation at the moment. He hasn't seen Makoto in a while after all.]

Do you do any cooking here or are you just a server?

[halfmoon]

A server. Although I do odd jobs sometimes too. I'm here for whatever they need me for, basically.

[ Makoto takes a seat beside Rich - not across from him - and lifts the long, draping sleeve of his witch-like robe to pull out the tools he needs to prepare Rich for a donation: a small pocket knife, an empty glass bottle, a second glass bottle filled with rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and a small metal funnel. He doesn't mean to rush him, though; he sets it all down on the table and then sits back in his chair, sensing that his friend might want to chat for a bit. ]

Are you working anywhere nowadays?

[firewalled]

Makes sense. You kind of have to be willing to do anything if you want to make a good impression, right?

[That's what he's gathered, anyways. Rich leans onto his arm, watching as Makoto gets set up. It's a little less technical than he's used to, and thus might make him a little more uneasy, but he trusts Makoto has done this enough for it to not hurt too badly, at least.]

Oh, yeah! I kinda was working part time gigs all over, but I've got a job at the music store nearby now. They wanted help tuning the instruments, but I've been helping sell now. I think they were a little surprised I know as much about playing as I do. But I mean, I haven't played in forever, so I think I kind of sold myself short too.

[He's certainly relieved that he didn't lose all of that practice after a year or two with no time for music.]

[halfmoon]

[ Actually, Makoto's first time taking blood like this was just this morning. But!!! Don't worry, Rich. Haha. ]

Wait, music? What instrument do you play?

[ Might Makoto have finally met someone to gossip with music about? He glances up at him with a hopeful smile. ]

I can't play any myself, but I guess I'd call myself a music buff.

[firewalled]

[Oh wow, the confidence. Rich is clearly in great hands.

Not that he notices, much more distracted by the turn of the conversation. He brightens up immediately, matching Makoto's smile with a wide grin.]

Oh, hell yeah, that makes two music buffs in the house! I play guitar. My brother taught me drums, but I mean, I don't really have a set here. God, I always pegged you for a Fall Out Boy stan but I never got up the guts to ask.

[With the topic change, Rich becomes more animated in an almost rhythmical sense, wiggling a bit in his chair, drumming on the counter with his fingers.]

Unless I'm wrong? What are your favourite bands?

[halfmoon]

[ Makoto has no idea what Fall Out Boy is, but it's the norm for mirrorbound not to understand references from other people's worlds. He knows basically nothing about wherever Rich came from, just what he went through, wherever that is. ]

I like trip-hop, breakbeat, nu jazz, stuff like that. [ He then proceeds to list some 2009-era artists on the fringe of popularity in Japan. Even the average Japanese person during that time probably wouldn't recognize them, unless they were into the same genres. ]

Man, this is making me wish my mp3 player still worked here. [ sigh. ]

[firewalled]

[Damn. Rich thought he had the guy pegged, but obviously, he should have expected bands aren't a universal constant. All of them are probably bands only in the handful of scenarios where they made certain choices and were able to survive the show business rat race.

...He wonders if there's another universe where Eminem didn't die in that freak hockey accident.]

Shit, no way. Sounds like my kind of style. I don't really recognize any of the bands though...

[He does look curious about hearing it, though.]

Did you just run out of batteries? I heard there are spells to recharge them.

[halfmoon]

Mm, I heard that too. The rumor is false, though, apparently. Nobody here can figure out how to power stuff that runs on electricity.

[ Now that they're chatting, Makoto reaches up and begins to prepare to collect Rich's blood donation. He dampens a cotton swab with alcohol and holds out his other hand, implicitly asking for him to raise his arm. ]

Without my earbuds, I can't pretend I can't hear annoying people anymore. [ a joke, delivered deadpan. ]

[firewalled]

Really? Could have sworn one of my friends mentioned it, but maybe there's some caveat they never mentioned.

[Rich is a little more relaxed as they continue to chat, holding out his arm when requested, but looking away just in case. He snorts at the comment, rolling his eyes.]

You do that too? My friend Michael was always wearing headphones around school so people would avoid him. Never knew when it was okay to actually talk to him.

[halfmoon]

[ Holding Rich's forearm steady with his hand, he swabs the inside of his elbow with alcohol. The disinfectant exudes a strong smell, but it quickly fades once it evaporates off his skin.

Still holding his forearm, Makoto reaches over to the other items to put the cotton aside. ] Yeah. Sometimes people can't take a hint and try to talk to you anyway, but it usually works. Although, I did it more often before I transferred to my last school.

[ Makoto places a funnel into the neck of the empty bottle and after a pause, glances to Rich. ] Do you think you'll be okay if I let go of your wrist?

[firewalled]

[Rich's curiosity is piqued enough to distract him from the impending donation, and he looks back at Makoto with a cautious smile.]

Yeah? What was so special about your last school?

[He nods in response to the question. He'll be fine now, so long as he still has some nice conversation. Rich has a pretty high pain tolerance, considering everything.]