[The morning after the full moon, Bailey still feels jittery and wired and needy, but they know the feeling will fade as they wake up and get back to their day to day life.
Still, the feeling as soon as they wake up, alone, has them... Curious.]
[Red Wine has just stumbled into bed after an impromptu meeting with one Klaus Hargreaves when his device goes off. There is only a small number of people he wouldn't outright ignore under the circumstances, and Bailey is one of them.
Grimacing with how the movement makes his joints ache, he picks up the dratted thing and rolls over.]
It's just... You always disappear on the full moons? And I know they're not great but I also know you don't always take care of yourself and your needs so it's kinda concerning.
They don't agree with anyone. But what are you afraid of happening? You don't have to tell me, but. Wouldn't it be easier to not be alone? It makes things easier for me.
Does something about 'I don't want to be seen like that' not make sense to you? Do you know what happens to a fully transformed vampire on the full moon in this accursed place?
I know it’s awful and shitty but you honestly don’t think that other people could help? There are things that could be taken to dull the pain and maybe some company would make it less distressing! I can’t say for sure, but isn’t it worth trying to alleviate the discomfort?
I'm entirely certain that no manner of well-meaning company could alleviate the sensation of every bone in my body forcefully rearranging itself. I'm certain nothing I could take short of knocking myself out could help with the psychological effects of having control of my own body entirely taken from me every single month, as if the constant bloodlust wasn't enough.
[It takes them a moment to respond, because they are not quite sure what to say about it. It's... Not something they really understand, or anything they have any experience in. Shockingly, none of their courses covered anything like this.
All it does is make Bailey even more worried for Red Wine, and they stare at their watch for a moment, tapping their thumb against the screen, before carefully typing out a message.]
Well, you should come over tonight. I have something for you.
[The silence goes on for long enough that he's about to apologise for his outburst when the next message comes through. He thinks about it for a few moments.]
[He shows up later in the day, not too far into the evening, and despite best efforts to make himself look more put together than he feels he doesn't look as if he really managed to sleep at all.
Though, he does manage a faint smile when the faun opens the door.]
For the future, can I assume an open invitation to come in? I'm going to have to keep asking each time, otherwise.
[He huffs out a soft sigh as he walks in, pushing a hand through his hair and scraping the loose strands away from his face. Red Wine may not realise the actual depth of just how his treatment of himself has affected him, but he's aware that he doesn't feel... great.
Easy enough to chalk that up to the full moon. He's already dreading the next one.]
[They reach out, tucking a loose strand behind his ear and cocking their head. Their hand lingers for a moment, before they drop it and motion Red Wine deeper into the house.]
I’m alright, for the most part.
[They’re mostly worried for Red Wine, honestly.]
C’mon.
[And they will lead him through the (much too large for three people) house, to their room.]
[He stills as Bailey tucks his hair back. A small and unexpected gesture that warms him just a little.]
Mm, good.
[And he follows, unfastened the buttons of his jacket as they walk. He may not feel the cold as much now, but he still dresses for it out of habit. People look at you strangely if you don't, after all.]
[They push open the door to their bedroom, stepping inside - their room is near the back of the house, and has a window looking out over the garden Bailey's been tending to in their spare time. Faun stuff, you know?
The room is as large and opulent as the house, but the room is tidy. There's a piano set in one of the corners, but besides that there's not much in the way of personal touches.
They step over to where a small box wrapped in brown paper is sitting on their bed, ribbon tied around it in a bow.]
[Red Wine doesn't get given gifts very often, and gets surprises even less. The piano gets a lingering look as he crosses the room to pick up the small box, and he delicately turns it over in his hands before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
The last time somebody gave him a small and unexpected gift here, it hadn't been something he really wanted... though it had turned out to be very useful in the end.]
Thank you, anyway... [And he slips the bow off the parcel, then unwraps the paper without ripping it.] I don't get many presents.
[They take a seat next to him, a nervous look on their face that they try to smooth over. It's fine, it's fine, it's not the end of the world!
But they did put a lot of time into this, so. Y'know. A bit of nerves are understandable, they think.
Inside the box is a piece of fabric, neatly folded up. It appears to be a handkerchief, and unfolding it will reveal the carefully embroidered pattern on it.]
Well, I'm not going to say it's the best present, but I hope you don't hate it.
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Still, the feeling as soon as they wake up, alone, has them... Curious.]
Hey, is everything alright?
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Grimacing with how the movement makes his joints ache, he picks up the dratted thing and rolls over.]
Fine, why do you ask?
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This isn't a situation where sharing the problem makes it easier.
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They turn into bats.
It is a very painful and incredibly distressing thing that I have no control over and I prefer to keep it a private matter.
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I'm entirely certain that no manner of well-meaning company could alleviate the sensation of every bone in my body forcefully rearranging itself. I'm certain nothing I could take short of knocking myself out could help with the psychological effects of having control of my own body entirely taken from me every single month, as if the constant bloodlust wasn't enough.
Why would I want company for any of that.
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All it does is make Bailey even more worried for Red Wine, and they stare at their watch for a moment, tapping their thumb against the screen, before carefully typing out a message.]
Well, you should come over tonight. I have something for you.
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Alright. What time?
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Though, he does manage a faint smile when the faun opens the door.]
For the future, can I assume an open invitation to come in? I'm going to have to keep asking each time, otherwise.
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Yeah, of course. You’re always welcome here.
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[He huffs out a soft sigh as he walks in, pushing a hand through his hair and scraping the loose strands away from his face. Red Wine may not realise the actual depth of just how his treatment of himself has affected him, but he's aware that he doesn't feel... great.
Easy enough to chalk that up to the full moon. He's already dreading the next one.]
How are you?
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I’m alright, for the most part.
[They’re mostly worried for Red Wine, honestly.]
C’mon.
[And they will lead him through the (much too large for three people) house, to their room.]
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Mm, good.
[And he follows, unfastened the buttons of his jacket as they walk. He may not feel the cold as much now, but he still dresses for it out of habit. People look at you strangely if you don't, after all.]
Is this a surprise?
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[They push open the door to their bedroom, stepping inside - their room is near the back of the house, and has a window looking out over the garden Bailey's been tending to in their spare time. Faun stuff, you know?
The room is as large and opulent as the house, but the room is tidy. There's a piano set in one of the corners, but besides that there's not much in the way of personal touches.
They step over to where a small box wrapped in brown paper is sitting on their bed, ribbon tied around it in a bow.]
But it's nothing big, so don't worry about it.
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[Red Wine doesn't get given gifts very often, and gets surprises even less. The piano gets a lingering look as he crosses the room to pick up the small box, and he delicately turns it over in his hands before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
The last time somebody gave him a small and unexpected gift here, it hadn't been something he really wanted... though it had turned out to be very useful in the end.]
Thank you, anyway... [And he slips the bow off the parcel, then unwraps the paper without ripping it.] I don't get many presents.
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But they did put a lot of time into this, so. Y'know. A bit of nerves are understandable, they think.
Inside the box is a piece of fabric, neatly folded up. It appears to be a handkerchief, and unfolding it will reveal the carefully embroidered pattern on it.]
Well, I'm not going to say it's the best present, but I hope you don't hate it.
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