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 Posted: Sat Jun 28, 2008 8:18 pm
"Erm...is what that good---OH. You mean this cigarette?"
Demy blinked taking another drag.
"Eh it's alright, I've had better."
Namely the ones actually laced with things, but he didn't feel the need to go into those.
"Sooo....what's your name? Mine's Demy."
Best not to use his last name, in case this guy was looking for some ransom money or something too.
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Posted: Sat Jun 28, 2008 8:42 pm
Bek watched with some curiosity. It didn't smell very good whenever the smoke drifted over in his direction, so it made him wonder if perhaps being very close to it made it smell better.
"... Bek." Okay, so a one word reply wasn't all that great for conversation, but thinking about his name, or at least what he thought was his name, seemed to throw him back into that introspective cutting mood. All of a sudden he was all too interested in making new cuts on his hand, but thankfully the innocently predatory glance he shot in Demy's direction seemed satisfied using his own blood.
"I... I've never known anyone else's name before," he muttered quietly.
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Posted: Sat Jun 28, 2008 8:52 pm
"Bek huh? I'd...say it was nice to meet ya but the whole cutting thing kinda throws that off."
Demy smirked a bit at that, doing his best to lighten the mood.
"But um..how can you not have known anyone else's name before? Don't you like...know...anyone dude? Friends? Family? ...Anything?"
Surely he hadn't been alone all his life, he had to know SOMEONE....right?
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Posted: Sat Jun 28, 2008 9:07 pm
"I thought it was nice, I think," he muttered, sounding completely unashamed before shaking his head. "I've seen lots of people, but I never knew their names. I don't think I have friends, or family."
He honestly couldn't remember anyone in particular, since most of his time was spent alone, and he could only remember so far back before things started getting hazy. It hadn't bothered him at first, but his expression became rather concerned the longer he thought about it. "I... I don't remember anyone with a name."
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Posted: Sat Jun 28, 2008 9:25 pm
"It's not nice dude, it's weird. But whatever."
Demy eyed him, growing confused at Bek's lack of answers.
"You...don't think you have friends or family? You have to have family, you had to have come from SOMEWHERE, right? And like..everyone has friends. It's some kinda universal law or something."
The boy lifted a paw, scratching at his head a bit.
"That's just odd you can't remember names but um...guess it's kinda neat if I'm the first?"
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Posted: Sun Jun 29, 2008 8:51 am
Bek didn't look too happy the more Demy pressed the point. Maybe he had friends and family once and just forgot, but he didn't think that was it. It was impossible to tell though. He wasn't even sure if he had existed beyond that period of hazy realization of himself, nor could he pin down how long he had lived like that before he became very much the same person he was now, wandering the same streets. There was just nothingness before his current lonely existence.
All that wondering bothered him and he idly cut up his arm as he thought about it. The amount of blood would probably have been startling, but the kid didn't seem concerned, and even seemed less distressed as he watched it. Finally he looked up with what was perhaps the first smile he had ever given. "It is... neat. I don't think I could ever forget this."
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Posted: Sun Jun 29, 2008 9:44 am
Demy was staring at the blood, but he didn't seem too overly frightened of it. Sure, the kid was cutting up his own arm for who knows what reason. But if he wanted to see the blood and was content cutting up himself to see it then...whatever? It could be worse, or something.
"Well gee, it's good to know I won't be forgotten."
You know, being a rockstar and all he was used to the idea that he'd be remembered. It's....well it was just what happened with people in his profession.
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Posted: Mon Jun 30, 2008 4:53 pm
Bek wasn't sure if Demy was being sincere or sarcastic in his reply, but it didn't really matter to him either way.
"Really?" He asked, still smiling slightly as he reached up to adjust his glasses. His hand left a violent red smear on his cheek and on the side of his silver frames. The innocent expression made him look more like an attempted murder victim than a creepy predator who cut strangers with his scalpel late at night.
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