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[ It's actually the first time Sasha has ever used the Vine - and she has been around for two whole months by now. She's not doing it voluntarily, not in the way most do. She does have her hand curled around it, but she doesn't seem to be all there. In fact, she seems very off. ]

If you-- if you s-screw up, th-things happen. T-They make things h-happen t-to you.

[ She closes her eyes shut tightly and shakes her head, rubbing her face, curling her fingers around her fringe, like she's having a little mental breakdown. Which she probably is, all things considered. She hasn't sleep for days, hasn't eaten, needs a shower. ]

Don't go to sleep, don't go to sleep. [ Talking to herself here. She shakes her head again and then brings her knees up to her chest and lays her forehead against them, arms over her head. ]

[ She pulls her head up and seems to only notice the Vine then. She wails pitifully and tries to shake it off in a pathetic display of a already defeated struggle. ]

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How much blood?

[ No, no, Jackie, you should know by now that nothing is normal in the lesbian Gardens of the crazy ass Queen. But to be fair, Sasha is human. She just has some monster poison inside her because of the ink of the tattoos in her skin. ]

I don't-- [ Sasha finally leans her head away from her arm to look at Jackie, looking scrawnier and sicker and paler than she usually already does. She scratches at her wrist as always, nervous. She never really counted how much blood she needed. When she needed it, it was some girl or some guy that wanted to have sex and thought it was a weird fetish of hers. Usually they didn't mind. ] Not much. [ She frowns. ] H-Half of an espresso c-cup?

Will mine work?

[ It's not like Jackie couldn't shake off Sasha if she flipped and attacked her, but that would hardly happen. For all the things Sasha is, she would not hurt Jackie. Her behaviour could, after all, be compared to a stray kitty in the sense she would always want to wander back later to the house. Jackie is fine. She doesn't treat her with nice words and doesn't fusses too much over her, but above her, she doesn't hurt her and doesn't have any intention to and gives her coffee. Even with her self-destructive behaviour, Sasha doesn't always rejects people. It's simply rare to see her not to.

For a moment she feels a little guilty, but it's not that she will hurt Jackie. She nods before the guilt can even wash away because easing her own pain is more important. ]

How do you usually do this?

[ Usually, she goes about this two ways. The first, she has sex with them and then they let her bite and takes licks of their wounds like it's so kind of screwed up fetish. The other, she smacks them with a rock, uncaring for their well-being, and once they're out of it, she squirts the thick, red liquid to her mouth like a leech.

Of course, neither of them are viable options for this situation, so she scratches her wrist a little nervously and clears her throat. ]

Hum, j-just do how y-you want? How it's m-more convenient... [ She's... not used to ask for it without giving something in return. ]

Hm.

[ Much like a stray cat would sit down and stare at the person fussing about to feed them, Sasha watches Jackie with her tired eyes, chewing on her fingers and pulling skin as she watches her fuss about. She hasn't seen anyone do this before, so it's rather terrifying the way she seems to just do it like it's nothing new. Well, maybe it isn't. Sasha doesn't know.

She does as told, of course, trying to actually touch Jackie as little as possible as she ties the bandaged as instructed, leaning back then when she picks up the knife and lets the blood flow into the little bowl, watching it with some kind of disgusted fascination.

When she's done, Sasha reaches for the small container and tugs it to herself. To tell the truth, she doesn't like to drink blood, not a bit. It's thick and sickening and heavy and it makes her gag sometimes, the taste is irony and if she thinks about it, she feels like she is throwing up, but as soon as the blood is inside her system she can feel the pain wither away and the burning of her veins that makes her curl around herself is cooled and the pulsating monster poison running through them is soothed with human blood.

She glances at Jackie when she's done with it and wipes the redness off her lips on her sleeve like a kid wipes her snotty nose. She stares at the now dirty bowl in her hands and winces and frowns. ]

T-Thank you. [ That took her a long while to say. In fact, she hasn't said those words in a very long time, at least, saying them and actually meaning them. Most things she says, Sasha doesn't mean them. ] It's, hum, gross. [ She doesn't mean the blood, but that's gross too. She means her need to do this. ]

You won't like my cooking much better.

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