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

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

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.]

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[L certainly isn't here to donate, and if he was, it's kind of unlikely that he would even be permitted. A habitual and rather unsustainable practice of magic using blood has left him pale and anemic, and anyone mistaking him for a vampire could be forgiven. It's an understandable mistake, considering both his pallor and the way he's eyeing the donors. Maybe not quite like meals, but certainly like opportunities.

He's considering just how easy it would be to cast an invisibility charm on a nearby donation, making off with it to save himself more bloodletting when he's already so weak, when he sees Rich sitting there looking a touch confused.

As if that's anything new.

...but he probably has a lot of blood. A guy like that would eat a lot of iron, right? At least as much as he lifted?]

Are you waiting on a bloodletter?

[L's not technically volunteering, but would Rich believe it if he claimed to be? He's certainly gotten pretty skilled at collecting blood, and it occurs to him that pulling this off might actually be an option.]

[Shuichi should be used to complete nonsense by now, between the murdergame run by a talking bear and all his weird classmates.

Still, all that shit had always been ultimately grounded in reality. Even given a few days to settle in here without any death or anything similarly awful coming up, it still seems impossible to find his footing. It's just...magic. And monsters. Theoretically. A large part of him is still skeptical of basically everything. Surely there's some trick to it all, even if he hasn't been able to find any evidence of it yet. The things he'd discovered just before arriving here really didn't hell with that uncertainty either. How could he just trust his eyes when he already knew he couldn't trust his own memories?

The fatigue isn't really helping either, but at least that wasn't anything too new. He was tired basically all the time back at the school just dealing with everyone there.

ANYWAY. All that aside, he does still manage to get out of his provided housing occasionally, as much as he'd like to just stay curled up in bed forever. And despite being very Uncertain about basically everything, he's still not the kind of person who could find someone passed out on the ground and just ignore them.

Yes, that's a thing that happens. While he's hurrying home one day, the sky cloudy and threatening to start pouring any moment, he nearly trips turning a corner and stumbling over a person just faceplanted on the ground.]

Woah, h-hey...are you okay?

[He crouches to nudge at the dude's shoulder. Please don't be dead, he's found more than his fair share of corpses already lately.]

[Rich looks up as he hears someone approach, narrowing his eyes instantly when he sees who it is. Great. Just his best buddy, here to make his life extra fun.]

Uh, you're a volunteer?

[He sounds doubtful. He knows L probably does do odd jobs around the city, but he can't imagine this one appealing to him in any way except a creepy one. If he has to, he'll let the guy take the donation, but he'd like some proof the guy knows what he's doing first.]

[Rich doesn't stir for a moment, too overwhelmed by the cool weather to react. He is breathing, at least, so Shuichi certainly doesn't need to worry about that, but his skin isn't radiating heat the way it usually did. Rich's friends always had jokingly called him a space heater, but it seems he was in need of repair.

Fortunately, the touch to his shoulder does eventually give Rich enough warmth to rouse him slightly, enough for him to realize he's freezing and needs to get closer to any heat source he can find. He grabs at Shuichi's arm, clawing up it as he drags himself into a sitting position.

Once he's upright, he immediately flings his arms around the other teen, mumbling in a half-asleep daze.]

Too cold...

Jeremy lingers on the outskirts of the crowd, soon sitting cross-legged on the grass. He's hidden behind other spectators who mill around, giving Jeremy glimpses of Rich between their arms or legs.

At first he's only interested because it's Rich, and hey, he can play guitar? He thought the electric guitar on Rich's wall at home was only displayed for chill points. Soon he's enveloped in the music on its own merit. His fingers drum the beat against his knee, and briefly, there's a point that Jeremy forgets everything except for the pleasant weather and the stillness of the mind that comes with a certain kind of music. If this is how Michael feels whenever he's wearing headphones, that explains a lot.

Others make requests, but not many. It's almost rude how ungrateful the shifting spectators are, Jeremy thinks. It takes a lot of courage to get up and perform even if someone's asking you to do it.

Jeremy spends an entire song-and-a-half trying to think up the perfect request for Rich, something that they both might know that would go well with an acoustic. The whole next song is spent gearing up to raise his hand and it's only the worry that Rich would pack up soon that makes him call out when the strumming of the last chord fades:

"Do you know Bleachers? I Wanna Get Better?"

Rich looks faintly surprised to realize Jeremy was watching all this time. He must have been behind some of the other milling bystanders, stopping to hear a song or two on their way to whatever important business they had to attend to.

Not that he wasn't in a good mood, but his expression immediately brightens spotting one of his friends.

"Jeremy! I didn't see you there."

He's a little embarrassed that he's been caught like this by someone who does know him well, but Jeremy isn't running away screaming, so apparently Rich isn't completely terrible. And apparently he likes it enough to make a request. Rich smiles, remember hearing the song in Michael's PT Cruiser while said driver and Jeremy squabbled about music taste.

"Yeah, I think I know that one. Let's see..."

He starts strumming a few chords, before winking at Jeremy teasingly.

"You're gonna have to remind me of all the words. I know you've got the voice for it anyways."

Jeremy's pleased too. Rich isn't horrified to find out Jeremy's been watching him like a creeper all this time. Score!

His grin vanishes when Rich prompts him. He was thinking about singing along, the same way you might picture yourself crawling up onstage and grabbing the mic in a crowded auditorium. Jeremy wonders for a moment how Rich even knows he likes to sing.

Oh--timeline weirdness. Right.

He's not enough of a coward to refuse. As soon as the right note comes from under Rich's fingertips, Jeremy digs his fingers into the grass (no, he's not going to stand up and take over Rich's performance, thanks), "Hey, I hear the voice of a preacher from the back room..."

Make no mistake--Rich had better sing along or Jeremy's going to die on the spot.

[Toby is better with whole, live trees, but she knows wood too. She's frequently on-site assisting, trimming and smoothing with her blades and helping move and hold steady planks and supports. Locals tend to think she's an unusual fullform Dragon, and even knowing she's actually a Mirrorbound Witch there is often a touch of deference.

She's bigger in person? Nearly seven feet tall and very green. Whenever she's not walking she's standing tripodal with her tail taking some of her weight, as she is now.]

Worms were at this when it was alive, I see.

[Connor happens to be at the park listening to Rich play, and when he asks for a suggestion he pauses before speaking up.]

What's your favourite love song?

[Connor needs more love songs in his life.]

One that means a lot to you.

[ Tattoos are not an issue, as it turns out. The issue of how exactly the donation is collected, though... that's a legitimate one.

Makoto, an employee of the bar, is waiting near the door on this late afternoon to assist with donors. He looks sleepy to be up at this hour - or maybe that's just his sickly appearance as he nears his full transformation. Or both.

When Rich walks in, his eyes light up and he walks over to him, catching him before another employee can offer assistance. ]

Hey. Rich, was it? Long time no see. Are you here for a donation, or...

[Even though she looks fairly more intimidating in person, Rich still definitely recognizes her, smiling when he spots her and running over to check out the log she's examining.

He frowns when he hears her, though, looking at the wood with concern.]

That bites. You think we can salvage any of it, or should we toss it and go with some other lumber?

[There are boreholes that could lose a pencil in the depths of the wood, and scrawling like incomprehensible cursive on the surface, under the bark she's cut away. Most of the logs have some degree of worm damage, though not nearly as much as this.

Toby rumbles meditatively, which might not sound too different from her angry rumble to the uninitiated.]

This one was dead or dying before it was felled. I suppose... no, this seems to be for the fire. If it was worked on for long enough shingles might be possible, but not many.

[Rich seems surprised at the question, but then rethinks. Connor always seemed to enjoy the love songs a lot. Probably because it was a feeling that was still so new to him.

Rich will indulge that a little... but only with his own twist on it.]

It probably seems a little too weird for deep meaning, but...

[He starts strumming out the intro to the song. He has to go with a classic, obviously.]

Rich does in fact sing along, at least when he can. He has to hum a bit for the first verse, not quite sure of the exact words, but he does start to pick up the slack not too long after.

"While my friends were getting high and chasing girls down parkway lines,
I was losing my mind 'cause the love, the love, the love, the love, the love,
That I gave wasted on a nice face..."

He's careful not to drown Jeremy out. As far as he's concerned, this is a dual performance now, even if Jeremy doesn't want to stand up. They can just pretend they're belting out songs in the car again.

[It's new, it's pleasant, and he really truly feels it. He can relate to the love songs he hears, and it excites him.

He listens to the song raptly, taking in the words and the tune, and while it's not quite what he expected he finds he enjoys it anyway. He has a big smile on his face when Rich finishes.

Connor remembers how the violin and guitar had sounded together, and wishes he'd thought to bring his out with him. Then he thinks of something, and bites his lip before heading over to talk with Rich properly.]

I have an idea. Why don't we do something nice for Justine? You have your guitar, and I have my violin. I think they sound nice together, and I think she'd like a song.

[Just his best buddy, right here, opportunistically sizing up the chance to get some free blood. No big deal.]

You doubt that I am? For your information, I actually know a lot about drawing blood effectively and efficiently.

[It's all... technically true. L has many marks on his own arm to prove it, if only because he happens to be incredibly bad at healing magic.]

Witches use it for magic. I take my own all the time.

[Also true. He'll show Rich, if he demands to see proof... but his arm is so marked up with his frequent tapping. He wears long sleeves for a reason.]

[Rich is pretty sure it's only natural for a vampire to look tired, and... well, he's assuming Makoto is probably one, with what he has observed of him and the fact that he's working in this bar. Still, he's glad he could elicit some enthusiasm, and he beams back as Makoto approaches.]

Yo, Makoto! Yeah, that's me. I was thinking about making a donation, if that's okay.

[He thinks it's okay? Is Makoto going to bite him? Oh god, don't think about that, and don't think about how weirdly sexual the mere concept of vampires are...]

[Rich has recognized similar damage in the wood he's received, but even he can tell there's not much there to salvage. He's nodding along once she decides what to do, glad to hear he's not completely confused about the work he's doing.

He's about to hoist it and toss it out... but then he thinks of something. Maybe it's not as useful as shingles, but...]

Do you mind if I take it, then?

[He's seen old wooden toys before... it couldn't be that hard to make simple versions for the kids here.]

[Rich is surprised to see that Connor enjoyed the song so deeply, but certainly not upset. It's nice to know that even his taste is acceptable, not that he really needed Connor to validate that...

He probably would bring this up if he and Michael argued about music genres again, though.

When he's approached, he raises an eyebrow, only to brighten at Connor's thought.]

You think so? I was actually wanting to pull a Say Anything - uh, old classic romcom - and play outside her window until she heard. If you're there, though, maybe she'll be happier.

[Rich can't pretend they're on good terms when he hears what Linden says. Sure, maybe he does know something about drawing blood, especially because from his complexion, he must drain a lot of it...

But that side note about potential uses puts Rich on edge. He takes a step back, folding his arms as if covering bare skin that L could drain from.]

You use blood for magic? Now I get it. You're probably working here so you can steal some for your creepy spells. Fucking gross, man.

Rich?

[Justine places a hand on Rich's shoulder. She can feel the stark cold of his skin and scales seeping into her palm, worry makes her heart jump nervously in her chest as she glances around the yard. Had he come out to see her or had he been going somewhere? She'd been working on restoring the garden and its warming spells all morning but the boys had remained asleep for a great deal of that time.

She doesn't sleep for very long, even with the pleasant chorus of heavy breathing since more people have arrived. Justine wasn't a fan of sleeping in. Maybe staying in bed but not sleeping.]

Are you alright? What are you doing out here?

[He'd only made it half way to the street and it looks as if he has something with him except he'd fallen on it and Justine doesn't have the strength to move him.] Rich? Rich!

[Toby uses her wristblades to neatly remove a rectangle of bark, like a stick of gum, that she then puts into her mouth and chews contemplatively. Dry and unappealing, but the worm traces do give interesting notes of flavor.

She shrugs; it's a very human gesture, her shoulder structure being nearly the same and all.]

If you like. I'm not in charge of the wood, but I don't think anyone would particularly care. Have you developed that strength inherent to Dragons?

I think she'd like that. We just need a song to play together... are there any romantic ones you know of?

[Connor doesn't know many songs, still.]

[Dazai, having been assigned the role of organizing most of the blood drive, excitedly jumps up from his leather chair by the door when he hears someone enter.

It's someone he recognizes, which is wonderful! Beaming, he walks over to him and holds out a hand:]

Rich-kun! It's been a while! [And Dazai looks far paler and more -- well, undead than before.] Are you here to donate some blood? [He finally notices the other man's gaze, and follows it.]

If you're concerned about those tattoos, there's no need to worry.

[Rich does have something in his hands, but it's hard to see what it is, and it's pretty clear Justine is much more focused on Rich's consciousness. At least that problem seems to right itself within a few moments.

Once she touches him, he mumbles faintly, her warmth helping his body stir, and in a desperate attempt to ensure he gets as much of that warmth as possible, he reaches up to grab onto her arm, leaning his cool face against it with a slow whine.]

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

LOVE BITES

i apparently can't not tl;dr whoops

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but i adore you for it

Wonderwall

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carpentry

wonderwall

love bites

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i apologize for the absolute peak 00s emo shit but it's p much canon

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When you're half dragon...

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love bites

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