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Post by devon splyce parker on Jun 6, 2012 8:06:19 GMT -5
Devon watched him quietly as he cut the chain, following him to the bed. He shrugged at the comment, didn't bother move or say anything about it. He glanced at the guy, head tilting to the side, curious blue eyes frightened but unwavering as he watched him.
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Post by marcus owen foster on Jun 6, 2012 14:21:20 GMT -5
Marc walked to the bathroom, digging through the drawers in there. As well built as he was, the surgically straight scar down his chest seemed horribly out of place. He grabbed a nail file and walked back to the bed, figuring they may as well try it. He sat down by the boy, reaching over and grabbing his hand gently. He pulled it in his lap, turning it over. He started to work the file around in the hole, waiting for it to unlock.
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Post by devon splyce parker on Jun 6, 2012 14:26:31 GMT -5
Devon stared at the blood caked on his own wrist and hand, then studied the guy curiously. Usually he hated being touched, but this guy was trying to take the things off. He reached out, tracing the finger of his free hand down the scar curiously. "'Happened?" He murmured, tilting his head a bit as he watched him.
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Post by marcus owen foster on Jun 6, 2012 15:19:43 GMT -5
Marc looked down at the touch, then up at Devon. The cuff popped open, and he sat it on the bed. "Some guy decided to pretend he was a surgeon." He said, getting up off the bed. He put the file back in the drawer it was in, then walked back into the bedroom. "You want something to drink?" He asked, pulling up his sagging jeans a bit. He walked back out into the hall, making his way to the kitchen.
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Post by devon splyce parker on Jun 6, 2012 15:22:54 GMT -5
"Oh.." Devon nodded, getting up and following him hesitantly, looking cautiously around every corner. He picked at the dried and scabbed wrist quietly, completely fixated on it as he wandered into the kitchen.
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Post by marcus owen foster on Jun 6, 2012 15:33:21 GMT -5
"It's just us here. I promised Zander I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, and I'm not." He said with another infectious smile. He didn't know how old the kid was, but he doubted that even if he was over twenty-one, he couldn't handle being drunk. He sat two glasses on the counter, gently pushing one to Devon. "Fix whatever you want." He said, turning around to look through the alcohol he kept in the cabinet.
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Post by devon splyce parker on Jun 6, 2012 15:38:36 GMT -5
Devon looked up, eyeing the glass. He ran his tongue over his snakebites, the lingering taste of blood, and wiped a faint streak from the corner of his mouth before taking the glass and peering warily into the fridge. He still wasn't used to being in a home where he had a choice, pulled out some juice and poured a glass, eyes lingering curiously on the content in the fridge as he put it back.
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Post by marcus owen foster on Jun 6, 2012 15:43:22 GMT -5
Marc's fridge probably would have been heaven for someone like Devon. Between the blood and the raw meat, there was barely anything else. Aside from actual human food for Tony. Marc reached for the scotch, pouring it into his glass. He pulled himself up on the counter, looking Devon over. The boy was attractive, he wouldn't lie.
"How'd you end up with a nut like Zander?" He teased, a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth before he took a drink from his glass.
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Post by devon splyce parker on Jun 6, 2012 15:47:40 GMT -5
Devon was beyond fixated on what he had sound, staring at it longingly. But killing again had got him in trouble, he didn't understand why, reached out fondly. Mid reach, Marc spoke and he recoiled guiltily, slowly backing away from the fridge and closing it to drink his juice dejectedly instead. But the smell of what he had seen still lingered and he rubbed his stomach some, shrugged at the question. "Mall. He was working 'nd protected me from my brother.."
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Post by marcus owen foster on Jun 6, 2012 15:57:02 GMT -5
Marc watched him, drinking half his glass of scotch. "You know, I don't care if you eat.. If you're anything like me, you don't exactly like cooked food." He shrugged. He tried not to eat, but meat was a lot easier than going to look for someone to feed from. And he didn't have the heart to kill anyone.
"Yeah, Zander doesn't exactly like bullies.. Guy was messing with Nevada one day and he beat the fuck out of him. Zander has more than a couple screws loose." He shrugged, finishing off his drink. He guessed everyone had their problems, Zander included.
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