Fukawa had woken first. Naturally, her first instinct on finding herself in a strange room with a strange man and an even stranger message on the door (more on that delightful creepshow later), was to scour the place for a weapon. Yes, she had her scissors, but she was loathe to use them herself and would feel better figuring out the situation safely. So, stripped down bedside lamp it was.
Second, she would wait for him to wake. No use attacking first when she wanted answers, and she couldn't risk tying him without waking him prematurely. Fukawa bided her time, palms sweating around the ceramic and heartbeat thudding on the double.
Yet when he did rise, he didn't react to her at all. Fukawa had stood on the other end of his bed, lamp primed to swing, and he didn't so much as flinch. After a few tense beats she'd realized what was wrong. Just not quickly enough to spare him.
Her lamp is dropped on the mattress as she scurries in to his side, loathe as she is to lose it. He's still bigger than her and much older, but with a fumble like that he can't possibly be behind all this. Besides, if his own lamp was any indicator it would have shattered too quick to do real damage.
"Now y-you're probably gonna have to pay for that. Don't you dare t-try to pin it on me either." She almost reaches for his shoulder. Retracts. She doesn't like to touch people (the feeling was usually mutual) but he can't see and he just knocked his shin really hard. But isn't it rude to assume he needed help? Is she standing too close?
Fukawa grimaces, hands flexing, and ultimately backs away a step. Or two. Better to be unobtrusive than invasive.
"...Th-there's another bed to your left too." In case he's wondering what his options are.
A Blood Offering
Too late.
Fukawa had woken first. Naturally, her first instinct on finding herself in a strange room with a strange man and an even stranger message on the door (more on that delightful creepshow later), was to scour the place for a weapon. Yes, she had her scissors, but she was loathe to use them herself and would feel better figuring out the situation safely. So, stripped down bedside lamp it was.
Second, she would wait for him to wake. No use attacking first when she wanted answers, and she couldn't risk tying him without waking him prematurely. Fukawa bided her time, palms sweating around the ceramic and heartbeat thudding on the double.
Yet when he did rise, he didn't react to her at all. Fukawa had stood on the other end of his bed, lamp primed to swing, and he didn't so much as flinch. After a few tense beats she'd realized what was wrong. Just not quickly enough to spare him.
Her lamp is dropped on the mattress as she scurries in to his side, loathe as she is to lose it. He's still bigger than her and much older, but with a fumble like that he can't possibly be behind all this. Besides, if his own lamp was any indicator it would have shattered too quick to do real damage.
"Now y-you're probably gonna have to pay for that. Don't you dare t-try to pin it on me either." She almost reaches for his shoulder. Retracts. She doesn't like to touch people (the feeling was usually mutual) but he can't see and he just knocked his shin really hard. But isn't it rude to assume he needed help? Is she standing too close?
Fukawa grimaces, hands flexing, and ultimately backs away a step. Or two. Better to be unobtrusive than invasive.
"...Th-there's another bed to your left too." In case he's wondering what his options are.