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[notaphony.livejournal.com]

[ OOM: Joan meets a stranger in the hallways upstairs. Warnings for bitey vampire bloodplay. ]

Joan's lost track of what time it is - or even what day it is - when she wakes in her own bed, still dressed in the same clothes from the night before. A trip to the mirror confirms how terrible she feels and looks, her face completely devoid of any and all color, several of her red curls falling loose from the pins she's mysteriously lost.

She splashes some water on her face - there's a red stain on her face that she can't identify (smudged lipstick, perhaps?) - and changes her clothes with considerable effort before she makes her way down to the bar.

Joan curls up on a couch in front of the fireplace, but she can barely feel the warmth emanating from the flickering flames. Bar offers her tea - which she accepts - but twenty minutes pass and she's still holding the mug in her hands, staring blankly into the fire and trying to recall what's happened to put her in such a state.

(She still hasn't seen the marks on the inside of her wrist.)

[ tiny tags: joan holloway, vlad dracula, a gothic winter tale ]

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[middle-name-s.livejournal.com]

The door opens to allow in a parka-clad figure, not so much dusted as caked with snow; the black cowboy hat is the worst victim. It looks frosted. The badge is a shiny gleam somewhere in all the white.

The man under (http://community.livejournal.com/milliways_bar/22706289.html) it just looks tired. That red hair, though, is impossible to miss, and with a king-size mug of coffee in his hand he tacks in her direction.

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

She looks tired - actually, tired may not even be accurate enough to describe it. Exhausted comes closer.

The part that bothers her the most is that she can't remember a thing from the night before. She doesn't recall having that much to drink -

- it's almost like there's a fog blurring out whatever she might have been able to remember.

The sudden chill brought in by a newly opened door briefly jars her away, and she turns toward the source, managing a small (if slightly embarrassed) smile. Embarrassed, really, to be caught in such a state, and if she wasn't so white already, she'd be blushing pink.

"You look like you could use some thawing," she says softly.

[middle-name-s.livejournal.com]

There's something very disquieting about her pallor; about the stillness he's disturbed.

"I'm all right," he says, gently, setting the hat on the mantel. "Are you feeling okay, Joanie?"

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

"I - "

She doesn't want to lie, say she's feeling fine. Not when she's sure the way she looks would betray that.

"I can't remember," she says. "Last night, I went up to my room - and then I woke up in my bed, and everything in between is just - it's gone."

[middle-name-s.livejournal.com]

He feels a chill that runs up the center of him, and doesn't have anything to do with the snow beginning to melt off of him. He shrugs out of the parka and joins her on the couch, reaching for her hand.

"What were you doing right before?"

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

She sets her own forgotten mug aside, the warmth lingering on her hand as he takes it in his own.

Inches below where his fingers clasp are the twin marks, pressed to the inside of her wrist and still healing. His hand accidentally brushes them and the brief pain makes her forehead wrinkle and her gaze drop there.

"I - I've never seen those before in my life."

[middle-name-s.livejournal.com]

He frowns. "It looks like a bite."

"Maybe you should get checked out by a doctor."

Bloodloss isn't the first thing that comes to mind; bleeding out somewhere is something you tend to notice, and something that tends to leave marks. He's thinking of something venomous, maybe, or tetanus from a bad bite.

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

She squints at it a little closer.

It's not bleeding freely at all; in fact, it looks like it's beginning to heal over, but the skin surrounding is still slightly red and tender.

"The only thing I remember doing right before was having a drink. Just the one."

[middle-name-s.livejournal.com]

"From the bar, or a bartender? Was it unattended for any amount of time at all?"

He puts his arm around her, which is considerably less textbook policework. He's not entirely warm, but she seems a lot colder.

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

He's still warmer than she is; there's something additionally comforting, too, in the quiet protectiveness of his arm around her.

She curls up, resting her head on his shoulder.

"No. I ordered it from Bar, and she wouldn't have - "

Joan closes her eyes, cradling her tender arm in the crook of the other, and a small, shaky sigh slips out.

"I just wish I could remember."

[middle-name-s.livejournal.com]

"I think you should see a doctor," he repeats. He has a sinking feeling in the middle of him. "Maybe something bit you... it could be poisoned, or something else. It ought to be bandaged anyhow. And you might have other injuried you haven't noticed yet, too."

What he's trying not to think about: Ronette Pulaski. Her pallor, catatonia and lost time.

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

"There's a place here, I think," she adds faintly.

It had taken enough of her energy to come downstairs. It may take a little longer before she's feeling strong enough to go to the infirmary on her own power.

"I'll go," she promises.

[middle-name-s.livejournal.com]

"Okay." He cradles her, and brushes a kiss against her cheek; it's very likely he's going to be here until he sees her into the infirmary, and beyond, unless things get really hairy back home. "You woke up in your room here? Everything accounted for?"

[fowl_beast]

"Oh, don't tell me that a vampi..."

Hm. That experimenter, Tesla? He admitted to being a vampire, didn't he? He didn't seem that bloodhungry, though. Of course, there are other things in existence that appreciate a splash of blood here and there, but not as much as those hypocrites and parasites.

The paleness, the lethargy, that's got to be it. "Bloody hell, fucking plague. There isn't a blood tithe in effect here, is there?"

Yes, its a chicken, complaining about vampires.

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

There is a very, very large part of Joan that remains convinced she must be a) dreaming or b) still drunk. If she was even drunk to begin with.

"I beg your pardon?"

Then again, granted that one of her most recent conversations occurred with a life-sized lizard who knew all too much about Sterling Cooper, she's not going to rule anything out.

[fowl_beast]

"You look like you donated blood recently. I am just wondering if you donated it willingly."

Well, willingly. Some people pay the tithe willingly, just to avoid trouble. Maybe willingly doesn't matter

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

"Donated what?"

Joan's first response to that is confusion.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

[fowl_beast]

"Are you normally that pale? I know that humans with red hair can be very pale, but not that pale. I know its winter, but you have been at that fireplace long enough to warm up. There should be some color to your cheeks, at least." No bite marks on the neck. Hmph.

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

There are bite marks, but they might not be as easy to spot.

"Oh. I'm just not feeling all myself today," she answers.

[fowl_beast]

He is pulled in two different directions. On one hand, this woman seems to not know what happened. Either that, or she is lying. Why should he continue this conversation?

On the other hand, it would be useful to know whether or not a particularly hungry vampire is wondering around Milliways. Perhaps she isn't lying, she might not remember. It's not unheard of, Lord Drakan and his family are capable of such things, and more.

Drats, it would definitely be useful to know whether a vampire of their ilk was wandering around. He'll have to start ask doctorly questions. Oh, bother.

"And when did you start feeling this way?"

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

"Um - "

Not only is she trying to wrack her brain for memories that apparently don't exist anymore, but she's also being diagnosed by a chicken.

A chicken, for crying out loud.

"Since this morning."

[fowl_beast]

"Did anything unusual happen last night?"

Last night, last night. He didn't stick around in the bar long enough to notice anything unusual last night. The library was a bit busier than usual the past couple of nights, though, but...

Oh hell... that's what you get for not sticking you beak in other people's business more often. Hmph.

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

"I don't know," she says.

If it did happen, and to her, she isn't going to remember it now.

She even has the sinking feeling that she likely never will.

[fowl_beast]

Hmph.

"There is a security force here, isn't there? And an infirmary. You might just be sick, so a visit to the infirmary would be your best bet. I have my suspicions, though, so maybe a talk with security is in order."

Hmmm.... it would be useful to find out who exactly is working for security and what they are capable of doing. Yes, a talk with security is in order. Best to get to know them under ... friendly?... circumstances.

[notaphony.livejournal.com]

"Security? Oh, I don't think that's necessary," Joan murmurs, shaking her head.

Given the nature of how she feels, she will go to the infirmary eventually, but that'll require getting up from the couch and moving, and she doesn't have enough energy to do that at the moment.