phantastus (
phantastus) wrote in
dazlious2014-03-13 11:01 pm
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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.
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.
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Actual coat with sleeves? Check.
Adventure Backpack with first aid kit, snacks, flashlight, and extra clothes because somebody has a bad habit of hulking out and throwing theirs into random bodies of water? Check.
It wasn't that it was cold. It was a nice night with a light breeze but Maurice knew better than to stalk into new territory without sleeves. He could get caught by the sun. Or briers. Both sucked. They had gone the long way around the pond, around his shoe pile (for reasons) and now they had just crossed a barbed wire fence. Maurice stood on the wires and bowed the whole thing to the ground. The wood was old and the wire was black.
They weren't, however, so deep in the woods that they couldn't still hear civilization. Street lights glimmered in the gaps between the pines like stars that had fallen to earth. The woods stretched along the fields and encircled the town itself before thinning into farmland and small neighborhoods. The ghost of a farmhouse sat like a ship at sea between the treeline and the lights of the city.
The vampire squinted at it before turning back to his friend.
"Alright, Big Bird...we're in new territory now, so be nice to the neighbors."
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Sitting on her haunches behind him like an oversized hood ornament, Heather was already in Tall, Dark and Shaggy mode. She was looking all around, the earlike tufts standing straight up.
Their last venture had kindled a confident little fire in her chest that hadn't been there before.
"But if one starts luring you out into deep water, I'm still allowed to punch it, right?"
no subject
He looked out at the woods. Real honest-to-goodness unexplored territory. It felt a little strange. He had a nervousness in him--one that he wouldn't have had if they were world walking. He hadn't world walked in a long time. It was slowly dawning on him that there were still wonders in this world left to explore.
One example loomed behind him.
"How's your sense of smell when you're that thing, anyway?"
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ALL her senses seemed heightened when she operated this new body-- but it was hard to tell if it was a perk or if she'd just woken up somehow. Because when she returned to her normal self, the smells and sights leaped out more still.
She blinked her lamplike eyes, snuffling audibly through the nostrils in her beak.
"What'd you pack to eat? Peanut butter?"
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He leaned and pushed a low branch out of his way. The weeds were high and old wood burst apart under their feet. It was hard to tell if there were even deer or hog trails out this far.
"I hope nobody lives back in here...but I don't think they do. These woods always looked pretty thick from the air."
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Then she tossed her own head proudly and stood upright, starting to stalk after him through the underbrush.
"Well, you never know. I bet you didn't think anybody was livin' in that pond, either."
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For a time nothing but trunks and bushes passed them by. The glow of the distant city became muddled with the glow of the moon--a lazy gibbous. Rabbits bounded ahead of them and birds startled overhead as the strange god picked her way through their woods.
The vampire's eyes were keen in the dark. He looked up and around and ahead. Then he stumbled and let out something akin to a yodel before digging his claws into a nearby tree trunk and clung to it. His boot had almost slipped off into a gully hidden by what used to be a blackberry bush.
"Holy shit!" He steadied himself and looked down into the depression. "I didn't think it rained enough for there to be gullies way out here..."
But there was! It was deep as an in-ground swimming pool and it tapered on either end but it was hard to tell how far it went. The edges weren't steep but they were covered in bramble and big white stones. Someone had tried to keep it from washing out long ago. Broken bottles and garbage rested in the very pit of it.
no subject
She'd always been brave-- that was something she had no doubt of-- but fear, some modicum of it, had always been a constant in her scruffy little human body. She could fight and kill and do both WELL but there was always that certain knowledge that she could be the dead one in a scrap just as easily.
But right now she was the biggest, baddest thing in the woods and she knew it.
Which was why nothing startled her until Maurice suddenly cried out and stumbled.
"Whoa-- jeez, Zilla, you okay?"
She leaned over the edge of the gully and peered down.
"You need to watch where you step, dude."
no subject
They were either going to have to go around, over, or through.
"...I think I see part of an old stove down there."
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Testing the slope with one taloned foot, Heather tilted her head, then started to slide down into the gully.
"Wonder if it still works!"
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He pulled a thankfully unbroken bottle out form under himself, gave it a sniff, and tossed it. Medicine. The vampire climbed to his feet, gave the oven a little kick as he passed it by, and started to slowly climb up the other side of the gully.
"Why don't you stick your hand in there and find out?"
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She bent slightly, placing her oversized hands on her relatively scrawny knees to take a closer look.
"It's probably full of earwigs and shit."
Not particularly eager to expose the mass of pincher-bugs she was now imagining, she started to follow Maurice up the other side.
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"Eeuugh, don't even talk about earwigs." Maurice hated bugs. All bugs. ESPECIALLY spiders. But man, earwigs were some special kind of scary. He'd only seen one once and that was enough.
no subject
"Why not? You scared?"
Heather wasn't a big fan of earwigs specifically but she didn't share the insect-related squeamishness so commonly attributed to her gender.
no subject
He dug his fingers a little more deeply into the rocky dirt as he climbed and plopped his arms over the edge of the hole. Rocks kept falling away from his boots. He looked like a cat failing to scale a garden wall.
no subject
Oh no he didn't.
There was an ominous silence... and then an enormous shaggy black arm wrapped around his neck in a headlock.
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"Gack!" The sudden pressure surprised him so much that he didn't even realize what he was in trouble for. He just scrabbled at the dirt and grass on the gully's edge. "Heather! Heather let go, I'm gonna fall!"
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The other arm promptly wrapped around his middle, ensuring that if he DID lose his balance, he would be caught by the asshole creature currently assaulting him.
"No one disses Spice World!"
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"Spice World is a shitstain on the underwear of cinema!"
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He was gonna look like a dalmatian puppy trying to hide from Cruella deVille by the time she was done with him.
With a screech of war, she let herself fall against the side of the gulley-- on top of him.
ENJOY THE SOOT, MAURICE.
no subject
"WHOOF! Hhh--!" He couldn't suck in air. The vampire fought and squirmed and tried to reach down to bite the bird beast's arms no matter how sooty they were but his neck wasn't quite long enough.
This...this was about eleven different shades of unfair. He kicked behind him, aiming for a shin or a knee or anything.
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"Say 'SPICE WORLD RULES'!"
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The vampire made a noise that was some sort of shrill, primitive holler that would have chilled the blood of any nearby explorers. Luckily there weren't any. It still echoed off the trees though.
And then he rasped, "Never."
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Heather laughed louder.
"Oh YEAH? Well NOW you have to say 'I believe in Spice World'!"
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"You are squishing the sandwiches!" Maybe his own well-being wasn't of concern. He was dead after all. But the sandwiches! Maybe they would buy him mercy and keep him from having to utter blasphemous phrases.
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