This was too good to leave to the mercies of Livejournal’s feed-comment expiration. It’s derived, by Will, from Jax.

Nina’s talk with the old Japanese man is quick, quiet and furious, but when they’re done they both look happy.

“Essence of what?” asks Jax, back on the street.

“Goth,” Nina giggles, and sprinkles a few drops from the bottle on her shirt. It turns black as pitch.

Jax is awed. “Let me try!” He sprinkles his arms, sprouting shredded fishnet arm-stockings. He tries his shirt and it turns dried blood red.

“You don’t need much–” Nina says, but Jax is drinking it, now. His face pales considerably.

“lets write about this on our livejournals,” Jax whispers. Nina shrugs assent.