dazlious | Call me animal.

Current Mood: weird
Current Music: "Animal", Karen O and the Kids

Entry tags:

Call me animal.

WHO: Heather Mason and Maurice Hutch (OC)
WHERE: Dogtrot, Texas
WHEN: Just easing into spring.
WHAT: What probably would have been a night spent loitering around the drug store and breaking bottles in the alley like generic malcontent youths takes several unexpected turns when a vampire hunter interrupts Maurice while waiting for his friend from up north.
RATING: Probably PG. CW for violence, mild body horror and transformation.

awsum ill be outside where the rentareel used to be

Maurice had put out the call and now he was in his place, hands in his coat pockets. He hadn't seen his friend for a while now. One thing or another would come up (said things including worrying mothers, various injuries, and plain bad weather) and now that at least the weather had calmed its bad self down, the world was ready to be trampled again.

And what a night for it! It was clear with chilly breezes sneaking around buildings and down alleyways. An orange moon hung low on the horizon and kept the clouds far on the edges of the horizon. It wouldn't rain for two more days. Spring was coming. The tiny green shoots had just barely started poking out of the ground where there was enough actual soil instead of the red clay of Dogtrot. Crispy dead leaves still hung in the corners where the buildings met the sidewalk. Easter candy all but overflowed on super market shelves.

The vampire thought of all the things they would do once Heather got there. They could graffiti the old building marked to be torn down the following week since it was technically not illegal anymore. They could eat pizza at Tod's until they were sick. And DRANKS. And Sega. If Meranda hadn't taken over the sofa for the night. An outlet in her room had blown (or so she said) so she spent a lot of time on the sofa during her WoW raids.

Something interrupted his thoughts. He had lived in Dogtrot for years now and not a lot surprised him. He knew the local vampires, he even knew a local spook or two. He knew the drug addicts and the few homeless and what they sounded like. What he heard on that empty chilly street was none of those things.

"Quack quack!" It was mechanical. Grainy.

Maurice lifted a brow and tugged his phone out wondering if Meranda had passive-aggressively changed the ring on it again.

"Quack quack!"

"The hell...?" It wasn't his phone. Maurice pocketed it and looked all around. The quack came from an alley across the street between a now defunct QUICK CASH and what was going to be a shiny new laundromat. Maurice looked both ways and ventured forward into the gloom.

The garbage can at the end of the alley quacked. Maurice screwed up his face in thought. Broken toy that suddenly came back to life? Stranded cyborge duck?

Up above on the rooftop, a long and lean and very crafty hunter was watching his prey fall for his trap hook, line, and sinker. His father had been a hunter--a normal hunter. Deer, ducks, rams. He had watched him make odd noises to get the attention of the deer. A whistle or a click to make them stop in just the right place. Sometimes to even lure them in.

Humans were the most curious animals that he knew of and though the thing in the alleyway wasn't human (not in the slightest) he had to watch it in fascination and amusement before he made his move.

Maurice peered into the trash. There was an old Talkboy straight from the eighties in the trash quacking away.

"Oh, man, sweet!" It was all his! He reached for it. Something dressed in full army camo descended upon him and drove a thin knife into his shoulder. Maurice screamed like a wildcat and the fight began.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The trailer loomed. The light from the windows made the shadows of the lawn gnome and flamingo stretch ominously out into the road. Bloodspur's water dish was overturned again but Maurice didn't have the energy to set it right.

Meranda was sprawled over the sofa reaching out to her laptop on the coffee table tapping away. A battlefield of fallen Mountain Dew cans surrounded her and she wore the rings of a sleepless Pandaren warrior around her eyes. She was going to get this fucking item drop if she was up all night! When the door opened, Meranda glanced up breifly. Then she did a double-take.

"What the hell happened?"

Maurice was already shrugging his coat off. "I got jumped in an alley. We're ordering pizza, what kind do you want?"

"Wh-what? Jumped? I thought Countess Crankypants took care of all the vampire hunters." Meranda allowed her little level 56 hunter to die as she sat up.

"I think it was just...some guy." Maurice tried to hang his coat on the closet doorknob but missed. He left it in a pile on the floor. "I'm not sure he even knew where the human heart was. I'll be right back."

And then Maurice flat-out ABANDONED Heather there in the livingroom with a lit stick of dynamite.

Meranda, finally pulled away from her friend's recent situation, finally noticed--ah. Dandilion head. Her bodylanguage changed and she grew reserved with pinched brows. She instantly reached to unplug her laptop.

When Maurice came back out of his room with a clean and non-hole-filled shirt on, Meranda passed him in the hallway, computer, mouse, and cord in her arms. "Sausage and peppers for me."

"Alright..." Maurice dragged himself into the kitchen and sank down into the chair nearest the phone. Then he looked at Heather. Pointedly.

And after she didn't leave YOU alone with Assault McStabby?! GEE THANKS, MAURICE.

Heather didn't say anything when Maurice walked out of the room. Just folded her arms-- pausing briefly to give Meranda a quick, tense wave.

"Hey."

There was none of the shouting or rowdy grins that Meranda had probably grown used to when her roomie's obnoxious friend was around-- Heather just sort of stood there looking tense. She didn't say goodbye when Meranda walked out.

If anything, it was probably good that she was going off to her womancave or whatever, because there were uncomfortable questions coming and Heather sure as hell didn't want to answer them with Maurice's weirdly-hostile female room-mate sitting there.

When Maurice returned, Heather followed him to the table but didn't sit down. Just gripped the back of the chair and drummed her fingers. The pointed look got a slight scowl.

"Okay, okay. This is kind of a new thing, okay? I was gonna bring it up... you know, gently, but that didn't happen."

That was a lie. She hadn't been going to bring it up at all. But hey... what he didn't know wouldn't kill him.

Or would it have?

Maurice was trying not to frown back. The wound in his arm and the one in his side were still lit up brightly with pain and the red-black was starting to seep through this new shirt.

"I don't think anything that happened back there was, uh, gentle..." His brows peaked in concern. "I'm gonna do everything I can to help you out, Heather. You can tell me anything! But-- I gotta know or I can't do nothin'!"

"I don't need help. It's okay, Maurice. Nothing like... happened to me. It's cool."

Might as well get that out of the way to begin with.

Because she really was pretty sure that this wasn't something that 'happened'. It had been out of the blue, to be sure, but...

"It's just... a thing. Kind of been getting used to it. You know, like that dog you turn into."

Bringing up Snowball wasn't really that helpful though, since Snowball could be explained by the fact that Maurice was a vampire. Heather was still, as far as her friends knew, human. With that in mind, Slenderbird was still a total enigma.

Edited 2014-03-15 22:56 (UTC)

"O-oh..." Maurice's invisible hackles smoothed themselves back down and he leaned back more bodily in his chair.

Snowball wasn't the greatest example, no, but at least it was some sort of suggestion that Heather wasn't in pain when she was Slenderbird. But as far as he knew, plain old humans couldn't change into monsters unless they were under a spell or had some kind of artifact.

Maurice slowly lowered his clawed hands to his lap and lined up another question. "So, uh...I'm gonna guess this probably isn't like when you suddenly find out you're double-jointed after seeing somebody else do it, is it?"

In his mind, Maurice imagined if Heather had quite suddenly figured out she could be Birdzilla whenever she wanted, she would have been like HEY CHECK THIS SHIT OUT I CAN PROBABLY THROW CARS. But...this didn't feel like that.

She didn't seem very proud of it at all. Which made him worry.

"... Yeah, no, pretty sure not. It's a little more complicated than that, I guess."

At last, she tugged the chair out and slipped into it.

"I woke up one morning with bird feet and, well, y'know, one thing led to another..."

His head slanted to one side. "Just like that...?"

Maybe Heather just...didn't know she was a werebirdzilla. It could happen to anyone. COme to think of it...he didn't know anything about her folks--only that her dad seemed to be out of the picture in a very significant way.

The vampire quietly entertained a mental cartoon with two large horrifying bird monsters doting over a smaller fluffy birdmonster in a nest that used to be a van. The van was also on fire.

"So, uh...what are you then?" Maurice cringed all over. It felt like a rude question--really it was. People had asked him that for years but he couldn't help it.

"Well, I had a lot of nightmares first, if that means anything to you."

The reality wasn't quite as cute as his wild speculation. There was more fire though.

A huff of a sigh escaped her.

"I don't think there's a name for stuff like me."

Actually, there were a few she could think of. But none of which she wanted to utter in front of him. In front of anyone whose mom had a light-up Jesus in their living room, no matter how chill they were about it.

Mysterious.

It had been a while since he encountered anything straight-up mysterious. He'd ran into all manner of critters from shadow people to angels to dust bunnies to his own demons. To werewolves and wasp men but...they'd all had names. They'd all introduced themselves to him in some way or another.

And here was his friend going through something almost as horrifying as puberty and for who knows how long--and all on her own too. It had to have been lonely. He wondered if that was why they hadn't hung out as often--that maybe it wasn't just poor traveling weather.

"I think Heather still works just fine."

She'd averted her gaze down to the table, but at that she looked up, a faint smile curling the corners of her mouth.

"Well, yeah. I'd rather you call me Heather than Chunky the Death Ostrich."

She picked at the edge of the table with one finger.

"I swear I would've said something about it eventually. I just wanted to.... y'know, play with it awhile first..."

Maurice let out a snort. She looked much more like a chicken than an ostrich. Or a big crow or something.

"You're an awful lot better at keepin' secrets than I am." Maurice knew that if he'd woken up with birdfeet half the county would have known before the day was over. If only from his dismayed wailing alone.

But then something struck him. He thought back to the alley, the man being lifted into the air by one arm and slammed against the cold brick. The shape of the birdbeast in sharp relief against the street lights.

"Chunky!" Maurice flattened his hands on the table and leaned up, ignoring his pains. "But you're so-- ribby! Oh, God, why didn't you tell me you had any food! I coulda-- you could have had some of ours! You always had power and a-- a TV, I thought you had money for food!" And she wore that vest and now her hoodie.

Somehow Maurice forgot that was what people (whether they could turn into big avian abominations or not) wore when it was chilly.

"I shoulda noticed and I'm sorry! I-- I forgot about the pizza! I'll order it right now!"

That was because she had lot of secrets, dear Zilla.

But she made no remark on that matter. Just let out a soft "Heh, yeah, I guess."

Only to blink up at him, slightly startled, when he suddenly remembered her boniness. She leaned back, lifting her hands.

"... Whoa, hey... no, no, dude. You've seen me eat, I eat plenty!"

THERE IS SUCH A THING AS A FAST METABOLISM, MAURICE.

Though she supposed if he was going to freak out about SOMETHING, she'd rather it be over how skinny she was more than the fact that she was secretly a monster.

"... I mean, yes please order the pizza, but it's okay. I'm fine."

"But I could see your ribs! Individually! That's not okay!" He slumped back into his seat and winced.

Yeah, okay, his friend was a giant bird inside. He could deal with that. But he couldn't deal with the idea of her going through all that and looking like those dogs out behind the other auto shop that Mr. Corey used to compete with. He felt like the most unobservant creature on the planet.

...Right, pizza. He heaved himself out of his chair and grabbed the phone off the wall. Maurice stumbled over his words as he placed the order and forgot what Meranda had asked for so she was going to get pepperoni and she was going to like it.

One he sat back down after having a conversation with someone that wasn't about giant birds, he settled back into staring at Heather again. It was just...hard to forget the first flashes of what he'd seen.

"So you can be a monster bird thing...any time you want? Or does it only happen when you're mad like the Hulk?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

She wasn't nearly as ribby as a human as she was as a monster... or at least, she didn't think so...

She let that stew a little bit until Maurice came back.

"Yeah. I mean, I've pretty much gotten the hang of it, I think..."

Maurice shifted a little in his seat, eyes still on her--though now it wasn't a worried or prying gaze. He just really wanted to see the cool bird monster thing again because dayum.

"You totally threw that guy into a mailbox. You know that was cool as hell, right? You just picked him up and fshawww! Bwwshhh!"

He recreated the battle in big showy gestures.

SORRY MAURICE SHE'S NOT GONNA HULK OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF YOUR DINING ROOM WHEN DEATH-ROOMIE IS RIGHT DOWN THE HALL.

But that small crooked smile reappeared.

"Heheh, yeah..."

It wasn't that she thought he'd be the sort to get all judgmental about monstery things. That would be kind of ridiculous, you know, considering. But it was still a relief to get away from that awkward silence she'd endured the whole way home.

"That guy was a jackass. Figured he deserved it."

"Yeah." Maurice nodded and frowned a little. What short glimpse he got of him he didn't look like a normal vampire hunter. Had he even been one? Had he just been...a guy with a knife?

He propped his chin on his hand and sifted more easily through his questions now that the tension had passed. "I saw that you had these big wings...can you fly like that? How's the whole...being full of...fire work?"

Now that he thought about it, the fire part was the most unusual. All the people he knew that turned into monsters were meat on the inside.

She shifted in her seat. It wasn't that these were squirm-inducing questions or anything, but talking about it was still weird.

"Well... I dunno. I mean..."

She shot a quick glance to the hall Meranda had disappeared down, lowering her voice.

"That was kinda the first time I did it outside. Or anywhere aside from my apartment. I haven't really tried anything like flying..."

The second question just got a shrug, because HELL IF SHE KNEW. :I Not that she'd ever been shabby at science, but she knew better than to try and apply the laws of reality to monstrous hellbeasts, even if the monstrous hellbeast was her.

God didn't have to make sense.

It was a perk.

Or a horrifying side effect, depending on how you looked at it.

"Huh. Well, if you ever wanna try it out, I could teach you." He fancied himself an alright instructor. Maurice puffed himself up. "I could teach you how to do Death Dives!"

The vampire didn't want to get ahead of himself though.

"It don't hurt, does it?" BEING ON FIRE sounded kind of painful now that he thought about it. He wasn't sure if he could handle turning into a big feathery heartburn monster.

She couldn't help but laugh a bit. He sure got over his shock quickly. "Jeez, slow down! One thing at a time. I don't even know if the wings work."

Feeling a little more at ease, she leaned back in her chair.

"And no, it really doesn't. .... It feels... good, actually."

It was nice to feel strong. Not that she lacked confidence before or anything, but... she was all too aware of the limitations of a tiny human body. Two lifetimes had taught her that sometimes it sucked to be little and breakable.

"How can you not know!" Maurice may have been over his shock (not that he wouldn't have nightmares later) but he sure wasn't over his excitement. "You can grow wings and you've never flapped 'em? I guess...I guess there isn't really enough room at your house, is there? You might like-- break a lamp."

He thought for a beat.

"Or catch somethin' on fire."

He thought some more.

Then the doorbell rang and startled Maurice so badly that he banged his knee on the underside of the table. Pizza! Pizza made things better. He tugged out his wallet and greeted the pizza lady. She stared only briefly at the ugly scrapes running up and down his arms as she accepted her tip. Then she found the door nearly closed on her nose. She started to feel insulted but then she noticed he'd handed her a ten by accident.

W E L P.

Warm boxes in hand, Maurice made his way back to the kitchen. He thought about hollering for Meranda but knew she probably wouldn't leave her cave any time soon. He'd just leave her some on the counter. The vampire slammed the boxes down on the table.

"We might not get to deface that building tonight, but we can still have a good time." He rounded the table and dug a couple of beers out of the fridge.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you about the whole concept of baby steps?" she asked, rolling her eyes but still wearing a grin. She'd flapped the wings... but that was a far cry from jumping off of something and hoping you didn't die. Extra limbs were hard.

In any case, she was content to wait while Maurice went to retrieve their dinner, but when the telltale smells started to waft into the house, her mouth started to water.

That was one thing she'd found out about turning into a giant creature.

Apparently it took a hell of a lot of energy, because she was always ravenous afterwards.

She got up from the table, scraping the chair's legs on the floor.

"Shit, that smells amazing."

"It is amazing! It's from Tod's!" Maurice held his head up in pride. Their town had the one and only Tod's because there was only one Tod. Well. There was only one Tod like their Tod.

Beers in hand, he sank back down in his seat and instantly shotgunned one of them because holy shit what a night he'd had and it wasn't even midnight yet.

Once he was finished, he sucked in a deep breath and lowered the can to the table. "Whooohh...okay. Okay, I'm...better now." He coughed--some of the beer had gone down the wrong tube. Maurice thought about their situation again. Nothing had changed. But everything had changed. Heather would never stop being Heather but now that she had this gift, he worried about setting it off by accident. She was new at the whole birdbeast thing and he remembered all too well how hard it was dealing with the vampire thing.

"What d'we do now?"

Heather was too distracted by the maddening smells coming from the pizza boxes to give Maurice her customary 'don't overdo it' glance when he tipped back the alcohol-- but then again, after what happened tonight, he probably needed it. She didn't know a lot about how vampires healed, only that it apparently happened somehow and that he might as well try to deaden the pain while it did.

Once the boxes were set down, she was already tugging one open, tugging out a big gooey slice.

It was already in her mouth when she replied: "We eaff 't."

So good.

Eaff't sounded good to him. He took a slice himself and winced as he chewed. He'd really hit the pavement hard. Little lightning bolts of pain slithered through his jaw. Man, fuck that camo guy.

The big guy lapsed into silence again as he contemplated where to go from here. He had a lot of questions but he wasn't sure if it was his place to ask them. He also wanted to give Heather the opportunity to take what she wanted because she'd saved his ass. And also RIBS. That bothered him. It bothered him it bothered him it bothered him. He was his mother's son.

Maybe he'd take a third beer. Three was supposed to be a lucky number, wasn't it? Or was it four? It was probably four. He want to the fridge again.

A thought struck him. "Halloween is going to be awesome."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject