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dazlious2014-03-13 11:01 pm
phantastus) wrote in dazlious2014-03-13 11:01 pm
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.
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.
no subject
"I got my hair wet."
Maurice patted the heel of his palm against his ear as he sloshed back to shore. This wasn't the first time he'd heard the mudmaid sing but it was the first time it had nearly drawn him to the center of the pond. He was embarrassed that Heather saw him sucked in like a moth to a bug zapper.
"Y'know maybe it's time to find a different fishin' hole."
no subject
There was an awkward pause.
Then, the somewhat damp ruff of feathers on her neck and shoulders rose in something like pride.
"I kicked its ass though."
no subject
"You sure did..."
Maurice wasn't entirely sure how he felt about his ass needing to be saved becoming a thing. Granted it was nice to have someone watch his back but...that was his job! He was the big supernatural monster. Not Heather!
"I haven't really explored much further than th--ah! Aaah!" Maurice swatted at his jeans. Suddenly he stopped yelling and reached into his pocket only to pull out a very tiny fish.
He stared at it, then he started to laugh.
"I think I won tonight's fishing trip seeing as yours got away!"
no subject
"HEY, shut up. I kicked its ass and I SAVED yours. I win by default. Now where'd-- aw, man."
She'd turned around to try and find the abandoned vest, only to spot it floating pitifully in the water about twenty feet away.
"Gross..."
Maybe she should have stopped to think before just flinging her clothes off in a random direction.
no subject
When he noticed Heather and her vest problem he let out an ugly snort.
"Good job, Hulk. We'll get you a shirt when we get back to the house. I think we're done here."