[ James is already intimately familiar with what's inside the box, so he doesn't have to look. He doesn't hesitate either, he just waits for Finn to make the first move, then shoves his own hand in there too. He knows there's no point in trying to avoid it, it won't work.
They're both meant to bleed. If he doesn't do it, worse than this is bound to happen.
He resists the urge to move his hand, to curl it into a fist or pull away. Easier for the tools and blades to pierce into flesh like this, allowing the blood to flow more freely as it drips down his hand and onto one of the bottles attached below. ]
It should be. It's— [ He tenses, pauses and bites back any sound of pain as he feels the blades against his wrist. That's bound to make the process go easier, at least. ] —how this goes. Always. A pint of blood... for each of us.
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They're both meant to bleed. If he doesn't do it, worse than this is bound to happen.
He resists the urge to move his hand, to curl it into a fist or pull away. Easier for the tools and blades to pierce into flesh like this, allowing the blood to flow more freely as it drips down his hand and onto one of the bottles attached below. ]
It should be. It's— [ He tenses, pauses and bites back any sound of pain as he feels the blades against his wrist. That's bound to make the process go easier, at least. ] —how this goes. Always. A pint of blood... for each of us.