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tampered2007-09-12 10:08 pm
ivory-gold.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-09-12 10:08 pm
Log: Ongoing
When: Wednesday evening, 9/12
Rating: anticipating R for sex work discussion
Characters: Asher![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ivory_gold and House vicodincrutch
Summary: "Pre-employment physical" for a moody vampire done by a misanthropic genius. This can only end well.
Log:
Asher stopped at the door to Dr. House's office in the Palace and ran his fingers through long hair the color of true metallic gold and sighed unconsciously. As the hair fell back, without thinking, he tipped his head to let that golden fall slide to cover the scarred right side of his face, letting only the unmarred perfection of the left side of his face show.
A physical.
A physical?
He was centuries old and was having a physical because he was admitting that there were things he could not get other ways. At least not without lies between himself and whoever he was with. Money made this whole transaction so much more honest.
Jean-Claude...
Was not there. Was gone. Might never be back.
Enough. Maudlin musings were for home. Not business.
He steeled himself, dropping an emotionless mask over the half-perfection of his face, and entered the physician's office.
He had fed. He was warm. He had a pulse. His heart beat in his chest. Let this doctor show him how skillful he was.
Rating: anticipating R for sex work discussion
Characters: Asher
ivory_gold and House vicodincrutchSummary: "Pre-employment physical" for a moody vampire done by a misanthropic genius. This can only end well.
Log:
Asher stopped at the door to Dr. House's office in the Palace and ran his fingers through long hair the color of true metallic gold and sighed unconsciously. As the hair fell back, without thinking, he tipped his head to let that golden fall slide to cover the scarred right side of his face, letting only the unmarred perfection of the left side of his face show.
A physical.
A physical?
He was centuries old and was having a physical because he was admitting that there were things he could not get other ways. At least not without lies between himself and whoever he was with. Money made this whole transaction so much more honest.
Jean-Claude...
Was not there. Was gone. Might never be back.
Enough. Maudlin musings were for home. Not business.
He steeled himself, dropping an emotionless mask over the half-perfection of his face, and entered the physician's office.
He had fed. He was warm. He had a pulse. His heart beat in his chest. Let this doctor show him how skillful he was.