ONE DEGREE [meet & greet, open]

[teef]

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holding his tongue a young man watched the proceedings of the self-proclaiming vampires, a touch of confusion on his freshly wounded face, a bandage hap-hazardly wound around his head to soak up the blood of an eye injury.

teeth set in his lip he groaned, arms crossed over his chest, his throat patched and mouth dry. [color=#151B54]'what in the name of all begotten hells are they doing? claiming vampirism to an empty night? sickos .. but they seem to be the only ... beings i can find or sense here. well, i guess i had best go ask what is going on, and i need to ask for a little help with these scratches.' he thought darkly to himself, fingernails absently biting into his arm in response to his anxious thoughts as a nervous tic.

"hullo! any chance one of those phone accessories works as a first aid kit with sutures?" jikai's rough voice purred, the young witchling stepping into view, his once-fine suit jacket tattered and torn much to his chagrin. if one were to come closer, they would see the oddity of the jacket, of the white and creamy large scales it was made from, the previously shed scales of his ex-husband, perhaps a terrifying memento of an otherwise happy time in the traveler's memory.