dazlious | Call me animal.

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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

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."

A part of her in the back of her head was already remembering Maurice's hysterical concerns and hoping that he didn't take her enthusiasm for the pizza for confirmation that his fears were founded. But for real, she was so hungry.

Previously, staying a monster for any extended period of time more or less made for a mild case of the munchies, but not much more. But she hadn't done much more than laze around the apartment.

This was by far the most physical she'd gotten with it, and accordingly, the appetite had increased tenfold.

She swallowed what was in her mouth. It took a couple of tries to get down-- she'd bitten big and hadn't taken much time to chew.

"You... seem to be taking this pretty well, all things considered..."

HEATHER YOU AREN'T A BIRD RIGHT NOW. GOD.

Maurice rummaged around in the fridge. "Well...I mean. I'm dead. And..." He had quite a few adventures under his belt. Tangling with shadow people, evil doctors, being taken captive by dustbunnies, being stuck in a submarine with a skeleton and a...leprechaun or whatever the fuck his buddy Fenix was. "Well, you aren't hurt or under some curse from someone or..."

He backed out with the beers in hand. "And you're cool with it, right?"

"Well... yeah."

As cool as could be considered, she supposed...

Of course, she'd be lying if she tried to claim that her immediate reaction upon lifting the covers and looking down to the foot of the bed to see her ankles erupting into scaly, tar-black skin and feathers hadn't been abject panic. And even now there was still a certain amount of wary worry.

After fighting so hard for her humanity and turning her back on everything having to do with Silent Hill, for it to resurface so abruptly like this...

But still, she shrugged.

"I mean, I'm not feeling any sudden lustful urges for the blood of virgins or anything. I'm still... me. Y'know?"

Maurice tilted his head and thought about that.

He couldn't tell the difference between virgin blood and otherwise. He shrugged and returned to the table.

"If you're not freaked out, I'm not freaked out." He gave her a tired but genuine grin, teeth and all. "It's kinda weird and out of the blue but...yeah. You have no idea where it came from?"

.... EEEEEEHHHHHHHHH. :I

She took a moment or two to mull that one over in her head, using the enormous chomp of pizza she'd just taken as cover.

Because while it had of course been a surprise... she couldn't honestly say 'no' to that question, could she?

Given who she was... what she was...

At long last, she swallowed and spoke up.

"Well, it surprised the hell out of me. Wasn't expecting it at all."

There. That wasn't really lying.

Maurice had no real reason to suspect otherwise. Weird things just...happened to him. To them both. Plus he was finally starting to feel a buzz and that might have softened any suspicious edges to Heather's answer.

He was, however, sober enough not to loudly declare them monster friends yet. A lot of people he knew weren't as comfortable with the word 'monster' as he was.

"You could totally be a crime fighter."

Okay, maybe he was more than a little buzzed.

Heather quirked a brow.

Yep, gettin' buzzed. Well, she hoped it helped with the injuries, at least.

"Heh, sure. I'll be the next Spider-Man. Except it'll be Satanic Bird Girl. Would you read comics about Satanic Bird Girl? Be honest."

She reached out for another slice of pizza.

Maurice just looked at her.

"Uh, YEAH I would? Have you seen Spawn? Satanic Bird Girl would be the coolest comic ever! You could even have your own really badly adapted movie!"

He had half a mind to draw the comic himself.

A long ooze of cheese stretched from the box to Heather's plate and she she reached out to pluck it and bundle it into her mouth. GOD SHE WAS HUNGRY. Even if all she'd done was pick a guy up and chuck him (and, well, then walk all the way from town to the trailer), she felt like she'd done an all-day workout.

"I'll pass on the badly-adapted movie. You know they'd give me giant silicone boobs and impractical high-heeled boots or something."

He thought about that, slowly, and eventually made a face. His braincogs were sufficiently gunked and he was glad.

"How would a giant bird wear high heels?" Or any form of shoe whatsoever. A cape like Spawn's probably wouldn't make sense, would it? She breathed fire and it would go up in flames.

Unless.

The cape was also made out of fire!

"They'd find a way. Bird feet aren't sexy enough for American audiences."

She took a bite of the crust-- all that was left of the slice, which had disappeared in a record amount of time.

"... You got anything to drink? Like soda or something."

She'd ask for a beer, but she didn't want to get inebriated tonight. Not right after she spilled the beans about this. There were still several other jars of beans she DIDN'T want spilled.

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