( open )

[slicing]

[Arm held over an empty glass, he slides the blade across his skin and watches the blood slowly pour, looking up to arch his brows and announce,] It's ten bucks a drop.

Comments

[hailjan]

Good.

[He tugs at his jacket nervously.]

[slicing]

[That's all he can do.]

Hyperion. That's my name.

[hailjan]

[In a way, Sotiro hadn't really wanted to know. And he ducks his head down.]

...Sotiro.

[slicing]

Pleasure, Sotiro. [A brief nod.] Take care of yourself, yeah?

[hailjan]

[Unlikely, but it's the thought that counts.]