toothaches: by Zyden@DA (Default)
Maurice Hutch (OC) ([personal profile] toothaches) wrote in [community profile] theattic2012-12-26 07:24 am
Entry tags:

So A Vampire and a Vampire Hunter walk into a bar...

Who: [personal profile] toothaches and [personal profile] d_stockholm / CLOSED
Where: Dogtrot
What: Maurice runs into Damian and offers to fix his truck BEFORE figuring out he is, in fact, a vampire hunter. Whups.

It was half past seven and spitting snow. Such an unusually cold Dogtrot night made it impossible to find anything to eat if you were a blood-sucking abomination, so Maurice sulked it out in the little bar on the edge of the new part of town known as Andy's. It was a good rock's throw down from the dollar store, and if you kept going that way and hung a left, you'd find the town's center with its stupid cow statue still covered in Christmas lights.

Andy's had only been in Dogtrot for a couple of years, so it hadn't had time to acquire the 'lived in' charm of places like the Pitbull. Which Maurice was still banned from a good four years later. It was a rather cramped, nook of a place with dim lights and a large, flat-screen suspended from the ceiling over the bar. A long mirror backed the place, but the bar itself was usually so clustered with bodies Maurice didn't bother trying to hide out of sight of it.

The dead man sat at one of the tables against the wall under a framed photo of a nearby college football team. He had a couple of empty glasses at his elbow and a warped and creased notebook in front of him. He'd long since stopped writing song tabs and had started doodling the same stupid car over and over and over...

d_stockholm: (off-guard)

Ignore icon pls, need some of normal clothes...

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-30 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
The day Damien left home, he hoped he was done with backwater little towns like this, but work sometimes takes him outside New York and to places he really wouldn't bother coming otherwise. This is the furthest south he's ever been in the States, and he's not sure he likes it. Louisiana is a little more familiar, but this area seems to have more rednecks and less charm, at least to an outsider. He's not happy to be here, and the job wasn't really worth it.

When his car broke down in Dogtrot, it was just par for the course, really.

Of course it was too late to find a garage open, so he settled for a crappy motel and a bar he found a few blocks up the road. He'd changed back into normal clothes for driving, thank god, but even in jeans and a ratty old sweater he'd draw stares in a local place like this. The albinism didn't help. He tried for an out-of-the-way table along the wall, ordered a beer, and slumped low in the booth.
Edited 2012-12-30 01:18 (UTC)
d_stockholm: (off-guard)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-30 01:43 am (UTC)(link)
A paper football might have been better than a spitwad, at least, but before Maurice could aim it at the stranger, the universe dumped something helpful into his lap. Into his ears, anyway. Something better than a very clumsy metaphor.

The waitress brought back the besweatered mushroom's beer along with a healthy look of distrust, because stranger, but the man ignored the look and asked in a weary voice, "D'you know a good mechanic somewhere close by? I know they'll be closed until morning, but..."
d_stockholm: (skeptical)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-30 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
The pale stranger turned to see the man in the next booth, treating Maurice to a good view of his face. He didn't look particularly corpselike, apart from being very pale, but he was wearing glasses tinted just a little, and behind them his eyes were such a pale grey the irises were hard to see. It looked like just pupils, floating in the white of his eyes. No wonder the waitress was wary.

Apart from that he was middle-aged, with broad features, and square-jawed but pudgy. "...Yeah? She's old, not sure what gave out on her this time."
Edited 2012-12-30 02:01 (UTC)
d_stockholm: (off-guard)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-30 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
If Maurice was staring a little, the fungus-man was staring right back. He didn't seem surprised or worried by the way Maurice looked, though. In his world, red eyes were a thing that happened plenty, and all it meant was they were drinking something other than beer.

"Sure. Okay. She's a Chevy Cavalier. 84'." That was old enough for antique plates, technically.
d_stockholm: (off-guard)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-30 02:32 am (UTC)(link)
He gave a snort, and took a swig of his beer, settling sideways on the bench seat. The waitress had wandered off already, glad she didn't have to deal with either of them for now. "She's had some body work before, and the paint job doesn't match. I call her the Tin Trashcan. I did lock the doors, though."

He'd also taken the precaution of hiding his sword and guns well under the floor of the trunk, in the space where he probably should have been keeping a spare tire. There was no telling who might poke around the vehicle, even if it wasn't worth stealing.

"Plus they'd have to get it running well enough to drive away, for that. Or have a tow truck."
d_stockholm: (ohshi-!)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-30 02:46 am (UTC)(link)
"Damn. Well I left her a few blocks away. How worried should I be? Seriously?" He put down the beer and offered a handshake, because even in redneck county, talking to a vampire actually felt like a tiny piece of familiar ground. "Uh, Damien Stockholm. Or D.S. Or 'hey you' works." His accent said he wasn't from around here, but it was too mild to place anywhere specific. Midwest, maybe.
d_stockholm: (off-guard)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-30 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
"Cool." He gave a little grin, and that just might have been a pun to let Maurice know he'd noticed. "Thanks for helping out the weirdo stranger passing through town."
d_stockholm: (skeptical)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-31 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
Behind the thick glasses, he blinked, and then cracked a little smile. He did own a mirror, and unlike Maurice, he could see his refection in it. "...Sure. That's nice of you. I guess some of us have different standards of weird, anyway, right?" There was implied camaraderie in that statement. He knew Maurice wasn't normal, either.
d_stockholm: (off-guard)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-31 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
There was no body, this time. He hated jobs where he was asked to bring back proof, anyway. He finished his beer in a slight hurry, since there was somebody waiting on him, and slid out of the booth after paying. At five-foot-six, the stranger might be less than impressive standing next to Maurice, but he'd grown resigned to being short a long time ago.

"North. New York, ultimately. I was just... passing through on my way back from a job."
d_stockholm: (skeptical)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2012-12-31 12:02 pm (UTC)(link)
D.S. hunched his shoulders, wishing he'd brought along a coat besides the all-white, conspicuous one that went with the costume. They were in the friggin' South! He thought it'd be warmer than this. At least he had a good thick sweater, and some internal insulation.

He waited until the door was swinging shut behind them to answer, not sure he should dump the the full truth yet. "Bounty hunter." One pale hand lifted to cut off any response. "And that job's not as exciting as it sounds. Mostly detective work, tracking down bail bond jumpers. People who miss their day in court..." Legally, he did have the license, and it was something not quite mundane to do when his regular work was thin. He'd also hit on getting licensed for it ages ago, since that tended to calm the police if they ever caught him in the midst of work.
d_stockholm: (skeptical)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2013-01-06 03:30 pm (UTC)(link)
He shrugs, not finished, as he heads up the street. "Mostly it keeps the cops off my back. It's amazing how much people don't question as long as you've got the right pieces of paper to wave at them, y'know?" D.S. is so not The Man it's not even funny.

"You said you're off duty... but you're a mechanic?" He darts Maurice a sidelong look, and licks his lips, just a tiny hint of nervousness. Right now he's more or less unarmed, and he knows exactly what he's taking a walk with, so he seriously hopes he hasn't misjudged his character.
d_stockholm: (ohshi-!)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2013-01-21 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
The pale-eyed man gives him a sidelong glance, and a nervously sympathetic little smile. "Got the skills but can't get a day job?" He winces a little, ducks his head and puts up a hand in a mild 'don't hurt me!' gesture. He's afraid of Maurice, too, but he's older and more experienced and may be better at hiding it. "Sorry. I didn't mean that as a bad joke or anything. Slip of the tongue."
d_stockholm: (skeptical)

[personal profile] d_stockholm 2013-01-29 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
"...Yeah, that's it." The boxy old sedan was a mustardy color, although the driver's side door was a darker tan and probably came from a different vehicle due to the original door being too badly damaged to fix. It was a car that had seen better days, and he wouldn't need to look under the hood to see that.

D.S. sighed and patted the hood. "She can't die on me now. Two more years and she'll be 30..."