#charley interactions

Charley ran. Charley ran because that's all he could do. Even worse, he ran toward the woods because that was the quickest place to hide out here in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. He shouldn't have come out here alone, without Peter, but he thought he could handle the vampire tribe on his own. They weren't supposed to be violent, but another breed had infiltrated their ranks, turned them bloodthirsty, and what had originally been an attempt at a peaceful conversation had quickly turned deadly.

Pausing against a tree trunk, Charley pants, hands shaking as he holds one of them to his bleeding arm. He'd been nicked, not bitten, but it wasn't helpful, either way. He needed to staunch the blood. It was only a matter of time --

A twig snaps off to his left and he jumps, stake at the ready, body quivering from exhaustion and, yes, even a little bit of fear.

Charley's lungs burned, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop couldn't stop because if he did they'd catch him. And he refused to be caught. He wouldn't. And if he ever, ever was well - he would take as many of the bastards with him as he could do.

Skidding around the corner, sneaker tread squealing on the concrete, Charley's shoulder slammed into the wall before he continued his momentum. There was an open door - a garage maybe? - and the brunet dashes toward it, bag thumping against his back.

Charley needed a very specific book for this paper. Of course, said book was in the possession of someone in this library, according to the very nice, very harried looking librarian.

That was fine. He could deal with that.

...but he really needed one section of the book.

So, Charley was searching for the person and had almost given up when he caught a guy reading (see: hiding, basically) in a corner of the library. Swerving off the main aisle, Charley made a beeline straight for his table.

"Hi okay this is gonna sound weird, but I need that book. Give me like five minutes with it and I'll help you write or grade or whatever you're doing, I don't care. This paper is like a quarter of my seminar grade."

muse: charley brewster

Charley’s chest heaves as he leans forward, hands folded behind his head as he catches his breath. He’d just run about five miles, part of his training for his exercise regiment and his vampire hunting, though that was something only he and a handful of other people knew about. Glancing to the side, Charley smiled slightly at the person beside him, a friendly gesture because this seemed to be the common place for, well, run ins, literally.