[ John knows all about bleeding. He knows how to make it quick, so a man empties out all at once. He knows how to do it slow, and make it last. So they could watch themselves die. So he could watch them watch themselves die.
John removes his jacket, hanging it over the rung of a nearby fire escapes. He unclasps the silver link from his cuff, depositing it into the pocket of his slacks before rolling up the sleeve of his shirt to the elbow. It's tight enough to function as a poor man's tourniquet, or, more accurately, a rich man's tourniquet.
It was a silk shirt, after all.
He flexes his arm once, clenching his hand into a fist. He draws the blade horizontally across his wrist without hesitation. Dark blood wells against his pale skin, near black in the night. ]
no subject
John removes his jacket, hanging it over the rung of a nearby fire escapes. He unclasps the silver link from his cuff, depositing it into the pocket of his slacks before rolling up the sleeve of his shirt to the elbow. It's tight enough to function as a poor man's tourniquet, or, more accurately, a rich man's tourniquet.
It was a silk shirt, after all.
He flexes his arm once, clenching his hand into a fist. He draws the blade horizontally across his wrist without hesitation. Dark blood wells against his pale skin, near black in the night. ]
Take what you need.