June192012
vampirmedic:
The medic tilted his head back, hoping his hair didn’t tickle against the scout’s neck. “Nozhing’s wrong, Herr Russell. Just vondering vhat coffee vould taste like is all.” He gave a soft smile; Russell was a caring boy and it was sweet that he asked if Sinnian was troubled.
Russell’s neck twitched slightly at the feel of Sinnian’s hair on his neck. It wasn’t a massive jerk, it didn’t tickle him that much. Russell also thought for a moment at Sinnian’s answer. An idea had come to him but he wasn’t sure how tactless he would sound if he mentioned it.
“Maybe there is a way to taste it…” Russell said, “I’m not sure if I know what I’m saying to be honest. But I was thinking perhaps it is possible if someone like, drinks the coffee, and when it’s still in their system, to have a sip of their blood perhaps. I’m not saying you have to or anything. But it is a thought…I’m really sorry if I sounded rude.”
1AM
((OOC: Just in case you haven’t got to see it, let me direct you the new blog for Russell the Polite Scout:
http://politescoutrussell.tumblr.com/
This is the new blog for him. Thank you so much for following this one.))
10PM
sassy-blu-bloodsucker asked: "Russell?..." Ansel croaked weakly, his head lowered and hands tucked behind his back. He couldn't even look at the scout. Ansel knew that the shitstorm with Russell and his Mother was all /his/ fault.
Russell didn’t respond for a moment, still leaning against the wall and looking at the payphone, the reciever still hanging down. It took a moment for him to snap out of the initial shock, weakly picking up the reciever and placing it back in its rightful place. That’s when he looked back at Ansel, his own eyes turned dull.
“Oh, hey, Ansel,” he said, forcing a smile, the affection he had for the doctor still obvious despite his emotional state.
9PM
“Ma doesn’t want to talk you, Russell.”
“Martin, please let me talk to her. Don’t turn against me now.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I haven’t turned against you just for this, there’s many sins worse than this. She’s refused to pick up the phone for the last hour. Ma, for fuck’s sake, take the phone. Talk to him.”
“No! He’s…how could he do this me?!”
“So what if he’s in love with another man-“
“How did she find out about that?!”
“Apparently, a letter came through. Cursive handwriting. Told her you were in love with your male medic. The ‘male’ part was in big letters, obviously wanting to emphasise that fact. Whoever sent her that letter did it to hurt you. There was also a picture of you kissing the said medic.”
“They…they took pictures?!”
“I’m afraid so, kiddo. Look, it may be something that I’m not that entirely comfortable with. But you’re my brother, you’re the only one of us that has not been to jail, commited any major sins or crimes, and has always been there for Ma. I’m not going to hate you just for…”
“Tell him that he’s not welcome here anymore unless he finds a nice woman to settle down with.”
“Ma! For god’s sake. Russell-“
“If he wants his stuff, I’m having it taken to Bradley’s house.”
“Ma…? Please! I’ll do anything. I’ll send you my whole paycheck every month. I’ll find a woman. I’ll come home. Please don’t cut me out like this!”
“Ma, he’s begging right now. Please just-“
“I don’t want any more money from him. It’s obviously dirty money. Who knows what he’s been doing at those bases with all those men?”
“In that picture, he’s just kissing another man. It’s not-“
“That might not be the only picture, Martin. There might be others. Others that are worse than this one.”
“Ma! Don’t tear that up! I would have sent that back to him!”
“Too late! Why would he mind? He’s got the real old guy in person anyway. Maybe he’ll last longer. But as I said, as far as I know, he is not my son and you shouldn’t accept him as your brother!”
“Ma! Get back in here!”
“Shut up! He’s not my son anymore!”
“Martin…”
“Sorry, Russell. I’ll try and talk some sense in her. Okay? I’ll talk to you later…hopefully…”
*Click*
Russell stood at the payphone that he just been using to talk to his brother. He could only just stand there, the reciever to his ear, his brain trying to piece together what had just happened. Then feelings came…or lack of them. He felt numb, heavy, cold. The reciever fell from his hand and he against the wall, feeling too weak to move.