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Garnet drags her feet as she makes her way home, eyes blinking in an attempt to stay awake. She’d been roped into a late shift at work and was exhausted, unable to think of anything but collapsing into her bed, which she would mercifully be able to do if she could just keep herself moving for a few more minutes.

She’s so concerned with not falling asleep on her feet that she’s barely paying attention to where she’s going. She’s paying so little attention that she fails to notice anything blocking her path until suddenly she’s falling forward. Adrenaline kicks in just in time for her to awkwardly stay on her feet, stumbling forward but not hitting the ground. She wheels around, ready to glare at whatever object was blocking her path… until she gets a good focus on it and realizes it’s a person.

Panic sets in as she scrambles forward, rushing to get a better look at them. She’s even more horrified when she realizes it’s a young woman, looking incredibly out of place lying by the side of the road. “Oh shit,” she breathes, suddenly very awake as she falls to her knees down next to her. “Are you okay?”

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“Pearl,” Garnet repeats, experimentally. It doesn’t really seem a fitting name for a vampire, but it does seem to suit the frail woman sitting in front of her, nearly crying over being asked about herself. Is this what all vampires were like? Because television didn’t really prepare her for how to handle all the weeping.

“I’m Garnet,” she offers in return, managing a weak smile.

"Garnet," she echoes in turn, pushing at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her palm. While Pearl's basic manners would normally call forth the response of 'nice to meet you', considering the circumstances, well-- that doesn't feel quite right.

"It's, ah, a lovely name," she offers instead, one edge of her mouth twitching weakly upwards.

She's not sure what comes next.

The silence is somewhat awkward, and in retrospect Garnet will probably find it laughable that the most awkward part of the evening could possibly have been not having anything to say. She looks down at her blood-soaked clothing and then around the room, trying to avoid looking too closely at the cat’s body. She remembers the mess she made in the kitchen, too, and sighs.

“I guess I should start cleaning up,” she says, not certain where else to go from here.

"Oh," Pearl says, and spends a moment just sitting there in silence before it occurs to her to push herself onto her feet. She wobbles a little, but at least there's enough strength in her legs to hold her up now.

"Can I-- can I help?" she asks sheepishly, eyes squinting with the strain of her smile. It feels like an awfully strange offer to be making, but then, it's only fair. Pearl's the only one to blame for this mess. Besides, if she were to just up and leave now-- well...

She doesn't know where she'd go.

“...Sure.”

Garnet is a bit glad for the offer of help, honestly, both not certain what to tackle first and not certain what to do with Pearl otherwise. She doesn’t feel good about sending her off into the world again, both for her own sake and for the sake of anyone who happened to cross her at the wrong time, but it also feels strange at this juncture to offer to let her stay. At least this will give her some time to think about it.

She pulls her dirty shirt off as she stands up, then uses it to try to wipe what blood she can off of herself. The sensation of it drying on her skin is not a pleasant one, but she doesn’t want to bother with a shower until the apartment is clean again. She’s not certain if she’ll be able to get the staining out of the shirt, but that’s not exactly her first priority.

Sighing again, she does a second survey of the room, trying to assess exactly how much needs to be cleaned up in here. There are a few things out of place from their struggle, as well as random drips and smears of blood all over the floor. Plus, there’s the cat. She has no idea what to do with a cat corpse, and it’s probably too much to hope that Pearl has any idea either. But the alternative is having her clean up the kitchen, and although it’s less messy, it feels wrong to ask her to go clean up a vomit-filled sink.

“Would you mind starting in here?” Garnet asks, looking back to Pearl, hoping she won’t mind being told what to do. “I’ll get you supplies.”

Pearl can tell she's being spoken to, but her mind's whirred to a halt around the time Garnet's fingers hooked beneath the hem of her shirt. And now she's just standing there in her sports bra like it's a total non-event, and in the grand scale of all that's happened tonight it certainly is a none-event, but Pearl's never been in the physical vicinity of so much bare skin before, and she can see a faint smear of blood at her collarbone that she missed, and her stomach dips dangerously low with something like hunger but not just quite.

"Uh," Pearl responds, eloquently. She catches herself a good three seconds too late, sharpling angling her head towards the floor. "O-of course."

The lack of vocal ability wasn’t something new from Pearl so far, but the accompanying embarrassed jerk of her head as soon as Garnet looked at her certainly was. She casts her eyes down at her shirtless chest, and then back up to the woman in front of her. Had she been staring? “Sorry,” she says, awkwardly. She’s never been one to hesitate to start undressing before, at least not since the high school locker rooms, but she hadn’t intended on making anything uncomfortable.

She casts her eyes to the hallway, then back to Pearl again. “I could get another shirt.”

"N-no, that's fine!" Pearl waves her hands in front of her, feeling every drop of blood she just drank rush up to her face. "I mean, this is your home, you're well within your right to dress... or-- or undress, as you see fit."

God, this is embarrassing. Yet... at the same time, there's something strangely comforting about it. Embarrassing herself is something Pearl is well-familiar with -- and that familiarity, alongside the sheer ridiculousness of this current situation, almost makes her feel a little human.

If only one glance down didn't remind her of the living creature she had killed and then sucked dry.

Pearl swallows against the bile climbing up her throat. "What should I... do with it?"

Garnet figures it’s probably best to just let the whole shirt thing go, as intrigued as she is by Pearl’s reaction. There are more pressing matters at the moment. More pressing matters like the cat, which has thankfully pulled the vampire’s attention away from her shirtlessness.

She’d known it was probably too much to hope that Pearl would have an idea about what to do. It’s not like they can just put it back outside, it’s very clear that he did not die from natural causes. How could they dispose of the body without it being obvious that they’d killed the animal? The last thing she needs right now was the police searching around her building.

“We could put it in with my trash,” Garnet suggests, though she doesn’t sound convinced it’s the best idea. “Double bag it if it’s still obviously not normal garbage.” Hopefully nobody would be looking too carefully into the dumpster to notice anything strange.

Edited 2015-08-06 19:24 (UTC)

"With your trash?" Pearl repeats with a hand to her cheek, pale-faced and wide-eyed. "He was a living being, Garnet, you don't just-- you don't throw animals in the trash." She shifts uneasily in place, gaze flickering across the hardwood floor where guilt won't allow it to linger.

"I... I should head downstairs and bury it. It's the least I could do."

Now it's Garnet's turn to appear uneasy, but she does her best to rein it in. It wasn't that she hadn't thought of burying the cat first; she'd liked him, after all. But a freshly dug grave might look suspicious, and her own fears currently reside in having to try to explain what happened tonight to anyone. The police would certainly be at the bottom of the list of people she'd want to talk to about this.

But Pearl's horror at her perceived lack of empathy is enough to make her reconsider, enough to make her feel ashamed she'd even suggested throwing him in the garbage. She doesn't want her to think she didn't care about the cat. She doesn't want Pearl to think she's a monster. What are the chances anyone would actually investigate, anyway?

"...That's a better idea," she says carefully, swallowing down her mixed feelings. "I don't have a shovel, though."

"... Oh." Pearl's brow furrows. "Well. That's a problem."

She doesn't want to give it up so easily, though. Especially if throwing the cat along with the trash really is the only other option. But then, what are they going to do? She doubts there are any gardening supply stores open at two in the morning, and leaving the body on the living room floor for the next seven hours until they open doesn't seem like the most reasonable or sanitary idea. They have to bury it, and soon, but what're they going to dig with? Their bare hands?

Pearl pauses.

"I mean, I could..." She flexes out her hand, blunt round nails extending into animal claws. A sight she's not fond of, but it's not as though she has much choice. "Not what I'd call ideal, but it looks like it'll have to do."

Garnet fights to keep her shock in check, staring down at Pearl’s hands for a long moment before looking back up to her face. She’s not sure why she’s surprised by anything anymore tonight, but she certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“I think it would work,” she says after a beat, “Do you need me to come with you?” She’s not certain if it would only attract any possible attention or if it would be helpful to Pearl somehow, but she feels the need to make the offer. It’s the least she can do after offending her.

Though the shift is subtle, Pearl can see the widening of Garnet's eyes, and the swirl of guilt in her stomach has her quickly retracting her claws.

"I-- I'm not sure," she answered, surprised but oddly flattered by the offer. "I imagine it'd take a while, and I don't think you could do much to help with the digging... but thank you." A beat, and then she perks up-- "Oh-- but do you have an empty shoebox for him?"

Edited 2015-08-06 20:35 (UTC)

The request of a shoebox at least is easy to help with, especially if it will please Pearl. Wordlessly Garnet disappears down the hall, emerging again with an old box. It looks to her like it should be big enough, at least. She unceremoniously dumps its contents onto the couch, various papers and old mail falling out. She doesn't give them a second glance, instead turning to right back to Pearl. “Here,” she says, holding it out to her, “There’s an area out back with some trees. I'll start cleaning up inside.”

If she’s being honest, she’s somewhat glad that Pearl doesn’t want her to tag along. There’s still a lot to do, after all, and Garnet is holding out hope of getting to sleep before the sun comes up.

"Oh-- uh." Pearl blinks at the pile of documents scattering on to the floor, her eyes squinting slightly. That wasn't quite what she'd intended when she asked for an empty box, but-- well, she supposes it's empty now. "... We can sort this out later," she concludes, accepting the box.

She lowers herself onto her knees, reaching for the body with shaky fingertips. There's no warmth left to it when she picks it up between her hands, but then, of course there wouldn't be -- she had sucked out every last drop of it.

Pearl's expression darkens with quiet guilt, and she places the lid down.

"I'm not sure how long this'll take," she apologizes, box hugged to her chest as she pushes herself back upright. "I promise I'll do my share of the cleaning when I get back."

And then she's gone.

It ends up taking the better part of an hour. Pearl returns with empty hands caked to the wrists in soil, her posture slouched and lips thin.

"I did it," she offers needlessly, and though her voice is just a quiet murmur, there's still a slight strain to it.

By the time Pearl returns, Garnet is nearly finished cleaning. Or at least, the kitchen is about as clean as it previously was, and she’s almost done mopping up the blood in the living room. It’s fairly evident where the blood previously was, because those spots are still wet and slightly noticeably cleaner than the rest of the floor.

She raises her head, looking Pearl up and down before dropping the old sponge mop back into the bucket of dirty water near her feet. Given the time it took and the state she's in, Garnet feels no need to ask how the task went. Unsurprisingly, Pearl looks even filthier than before, and she can’t imagine that digging a hole with her bare hands could possibly have felt dignified.

“Why don’t you take a shower?” she suggests, gesturing down the hall. “I’m almost done anyway.”

From the way Pearl stares at her, you'd think the words were in a foreign language. She stands planted in place, slumped like a wind-bent tree, and her filth-covered fingers tweeze and pick at each other as she finally answers: "Could I?"

"Yeah," she replies, blinking back at Pearl. She's filthy, why wouldn't Garnet allow her to take a shower? It's not like she would be likely to find one if she went back on the streets. And considering the streets, Garnet certainly wondered how long it had been since she'd had one, anyway.

"There should be a towel in the bathroom," she adds after a moment, "I'll find you a change of clothes." Anything of Garnet's would be a little too big on her skinny form, but at least they'd be clean.

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