So the power was out thanks to a certain couple of lines getting snapped thanks to a certain SOMEONE. And there were a few embers glowing on the sofa. But you know what? He could deal. Maurice was working hard by the light of his giant feathery friend's eyes and his own night vision, scraping away ruined feathers from his friend's arm.
[He isn't so sure about this. The people at the nursing home had sent him home with the overgrown toolbox to test it out before they let it loose on any of the old people. Of course Terri had put him on charge of it since it probably couldn't kill him.]
[So here he is with a big weird box in his tiny, tiny trailer home. Good thing Meranda is at work tonight. But UGH WHY TONIGHT. He was so low on blood. He needed to hunt and he had a headache because he didn't even have a chance to go drinking. Regular drinking.]
[WEH]
I guess y'just hit this button here...I hope they didn't send me one of those creepy sex robots by mistake.
[Don't cringe, Fenix, you signed up for this shit.]
[Roman scrambles over the metal guardrail that flanks the bridge the two of them are camping under for the evening. Once in the shadow of the bridge, he drops his disguise and squirrels his way over to their little base with a take-out clutched in his hands.]
[After he's made sure the curly-headed object of his affections has seen it, he puts it behind his back.]
[Fortunately for Roman... Fenix likes the stupid names.]
[He's currently lying on his back on one of the little cardboard 'mats' they'd laid out, hands folded over his stomach and hat laid over his face. He smirks behind it.]
When Lust came in, she was burdened down with shopping bags. Venturing out had been a mistake, but she'd been doing nothing but wandering aimlessly about the house, trying to avoid all the fuss of the silly holiday. She'd always thought it was at least a little foolish, but now...
Which was why she found herself in the kitchen of Shark House with more bags of Must Sell Now holiday goodies than she could reasonably eat and a few bottles of plum wine. She couldn't even drown her sorrows with Envy, he was one official to-do away from being happily married, as far as Lust was concerned. Lucky bastard. And Greed had a veritable harem to choose from. Also a lucky bastard, though Lust knew damn well she could have the same if she really wanted. It was just so much of a bother.
But that didn't mean she had to be a cliche on the couch all by herself.
"Heather? Henry? Anyone home? I have candy and liquor!"
And there were good odds one of those two were home and doing nothing, and she figured the announcement of booze and chocolate was like shaking a bag of Poketreats where Guttle could hear.
Henry puffed out a sigh as he sank down onto the uncomfortable plastic bench along the far wall of the Pokemon Center. He always sat near the windows when he brought in his whole team. Following Heather's advice concerning training all the little ones up at the same time was working. Townshend was slowly becoming someone who could actually call himself a Trainer without the competition stifling a laugh.
It felt a little weird not to have Cheerios or Clam out and waiting with him so he flipped out his Poke'Gear and tried to beat Envy's score at Five Nights at Fantina's. This would take a while. He and his team were pretty far back on the waiting list.
Henry was not a hard man to find. If he wasn't stretched out on his sleeping bag with his Pokemon tapping away at his 'gear he was in the kitchen standing in front of the microwave watching the instant macaroni spinning around inside.
It still had about 40 seconds to go. He was in his Snorlax PJs and not really ready for the day. Even though it was noon.
Ever since the attack, Henry had been scarce. He wasn't missing, exactly, just hiding. Hiding in the furthest corner of the house away from the chaos of the outside world. And he'd been quiet. Quiet, quiet, quiet.
Until about three that morning.
"Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot." Three-o-clock! It was three-o-clock and the world needed to know! "Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot."
It's just another day in Crush Hell for Henry Townshend.
He'd been doing pretty well lately squashing down those feelings. His methods thus far had included actually training his Pokemon, staring deeply into his cereal any time Lust was in the room (and thus having cereal on-hand nearly 70% of the time a man can love cereal okay it's not weird) and today, taking photos.
Henry had snapped a few very nice pictures of the Eevee Pile as they dozed in a patch of sun streaming through one of the windows and as he turned to see if he could find any other dozing Pokemon, there she was standing by the microwave. The glow from inside illuminated the curls in her hair in an almost hypnotic way.
This time Henry would have to push aside his fears because this was art and he was not going to let some crush butterflies get in the way of snapping the perfect photo. He stood with great conviction and moved closer.
"Lust...I need. I need you to stay perfectly still. Only for a second."
[Temeraire hadn't been sleeping well tonight, and it's because of that that he hears it. There is a stranger wandering around in the dark of the camp.]
[He can tell it's a human and not another kangaroo or some other strange Australian animal...and certainly not one of the terrible bunyips. And he also knows that everyone ought to be asleep. The footfalls don't sound like Laurence or any of his crew. He raises his head and swings it around to near where he heard the steps, a vast black shape in the dark.]
He certainly didn't call ahead. He knew that if he did, he'd chicken out and come up with some excuse that he knew his mother would siiiiiigh at for not following through. Thanksgiving wasn't that long ago and their last conversation hadn't been...great. And now it was even more nerve-wracking because there was another thing that She Didn't Know About. And it was sitting in the passenger seat of Maurice's truck.
"Naw, man, she's great. Just...you know! Tough love! I mean, she already fuckin' guessed I was different when I was tryin' to tell her I was a vampire. I just hope Sammy's not there."
It was a Tuesday night and the Lorikeet was bumpin'. Maurice was glad. This place would have enough noise and color to distract his sweet potato from his shit day at work. He wished Hanna had access to a job like his where he spent nearly all his time alone at a desk or in a garage...but no he had to deal with the citizens of Dogtrot face to face all shift.
The Lorikeet was a smallish place, packed with fake plants and filled with a fine haze of various kinds of smoke. A neon jukebox sat in the corner and, to Maurice's surprise, so did Horas and the boys at their signature table.
This was one thing he hadn't counted on and he actually stopped in the doorway, his shoulders hunched, barring Hanna's way. He hadn't seen Horas...or any members of the Dogtrot murder for a WHILE. They were all laughing--Horas, short and mustached, living in his sweater. Josh with his long red fabio curls was trying to build a tower out of drink glasses. Matt was just letting it happen. Wesley had half his homework sprawled across the table and was all but eating his pencil.
Maurice swallowed and glanced back over his shoulder. "Remember the guy I told you about before? The guy who's above me in the Murder? He's uh...here. I'm sorry for everything that's about to happen."
It was misting rain that evening and the clouds had allowed Maurice to zip out while the stores were still open. The Good Ship Misery was in yet another new location as the street they had previously called home finally fell to the renovation that was snaking its way through Dogtrot like a cancer. It seemed every other week there was a new kiosk or a new apartment building or a new this or that. It was making it hard to hide.
But Maurice was nothing if not a survivor so he'd found them a safe little alley on the older side of Dogtrot. It was further to work for Hanna, but it was safe. November had edged into December.
"Okay aaaaaaand...open your eyes!"
Between them balanced on the truck console was a small tray table (brand new). A pair of deli sandwiches (from the fancy deli) were balanced on either side of it. Or sort of balanced. Maurice was still bound and determined to feed Hanna properly. Plus he was dead, so...sandwiches didn't really do it for him anyway. And between the sandwiches was one of those plastic, battery towered tea lights.
"Tadaaaaaa!" Maurice was busting proud of himself.
It was nice to shower. It was nice to brush his teeth in a sink that wasn't at work. Hanna had thoroughly enjoyed all the amenities that an actual home provided, and while Maurice was in the middle of his day, Hanna had worked mid-shift and sleeping, while his schedule was quite fucked, was going to happen.
After debating on snagging a piece of garlic bread, just to be a cheeky ass, and deciding against it, he, hair still kind of damp, slipped out of his jeans in the bedroom that was now his and stared at the bed, taking a few breathes of calming serenity in 'wow I get sheets to keep me warm instead of my icecube boyfriend.'
It had been a while since there was actually space, it had been a while since he had been able to sleep without worrying someone was going to knock on their window at night and ask for them to move or what they were doing. Hanna took this liberty to pull off his T-shirt, swallowing down self consciousness in just the thin tank top undershirt. It was warm enough. He had a good excuse.
Slipping under the covers, he took a deep breath and waited for a certain vampire to come in. He wasn't sure if he would come in and enjoy the opportunity of a bed or not but part of him was really hoping. That and, yanno. That the walls weren't paper thin.
It was lunch time. Meranda was to go in at two but when she woke up to fix herself some breakfast she had found ANOTHER ONE. They weren't exactly invasive, the cranes, but they popped up in the weirdest places. It was time for answers. So here she stood in her pajamas, hair shoved to one side, not in the mood for bullshit.
Ever since his conversation with Meranda, Hanna had felt this stupid guilt start piling up. Everything was fine, he'd say, he'd offer his usual smile when he got picked up from work, when he woke up, when Maurice made him dinner, but the more time he spent alone, the less he got along with is coworkers, it kind of cemented the fact that this wasn't home and he was starting to miss it, even if Maurice was here. He had friends back home, even if some of them were maybe not by choice, but they stuck around, and he could see them, talk...hang out.
He glanced up from his book, looking at the clock and thinking that Maurice wouldn't be home from work for a while. He had a late shift, which was good...he hadn't wanted him to go out in the daylight again so soon after the last incident. But this also gave him the option of leaving without having to give a reason.
Pulling on another layer because it was actually cool out now that the sun was down, he locked the door behind him, no note left behind, and shoved his hands in his pockets. He let his feet take him where they would, and they just so happened to make a beeline towards the trees and all that silence and dark they offered. Smartest ginger on the planet right here.
Maurice continued to shove the deep fried frog on a stick in Hanna's face. It was a warm night and the fair was lit up like Christmas in July. Which was sort of the theme for half of it. Music from two different stages battled to drown one another out and somewhere people screamed as they escaped death via gum and duct tape carnival ride.
"You can't go to a fair without eatin' somethin' fried and besides, if you don't gain a couple pounds by the time we go see Mom again, she'll kick my ass."
Hanna had worked a weird shift, swing was never his favorite, but it at least helped when he was sitting in bed, reading, and waiting for his beau to come home.
He had checked his bank balance earlier, frowning at it when his savings weren't as far ahead as he had hoped, but it was okay. He could just cut back on the soda and energy drinks and hope to god his enthusiastic, hyperactive nature would just pull him through life in his fucked up sleep schedule. Glancing at the door, he wondered when Maurice would be getting back, looking back down at his book again and settling in. Who knew, really. But at least it was nice, waiting for someone to come home and knowing they wanted to come home to him.
The day had been long. It was inventory that morning, and someone had called out in the middle of Hanna's shift and they'd asked him to stay. Some kid had shit all over the bathroom, and even worse, a very large jar of pickles had fallen off the shelf, and in Hanna's attempt to clean it up, he had gotten it all over his shoes. They now smelled of pickle juice something fierce.
By Hanna's lunch break, which he got late of course, he had called Maurice and asked him if he wanted to hit a bar that night, somewhere, anywhere, because after today, he'd need a drink, and thankfully he'd agreed. The end of his double couldn't come soon enough, and when Hanna finally clocked out, thankful for the spare change of clothes in his locker, he quickly changed and shoved pickle shoes back in the locker to retrieve them later. He'd rather not carry them around into any sort of restaurant.
Scanning the downtown area, he spotted something that looked a little like a bar he used to go to back home, and he made a beeline towards it, texting Maurice the address, and there he waited, practically melting into his chair and ordering a drink to start without his boyfriend. Long day was sure as hell long.
[Envy's still not sure what he thinks about this entire...situation.]
[He thinks they're dating now? The word dating was said, by Henry, in a way that sounded like he was agreeable to it. And Envy hadn't...really wanted to turn it down, as much as the idea of it sends sharp, anxious prickles shooting through his chest alongside some bizarre jittering that doesn't feel at all bad but that he doesn't understand.]
[And he had spent all that time trying to see if he could get Henry to think that he's hot. Which must mean something.]
[And as completely lost as he is over this, he still really wants Henry's attention in particular. Which is what brings him to his boyfriend's??? house today. ENVY IS ON A MISSION.]
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theattic2014-11-09 07:55 pm
Heather Mason | Silent Hill
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So the power was out thanks to a certain couple of lines getting snapped thanks to a certain SOMEONE. And there were a few embers glowing on the sofa. But you know what? He could deal. Maurice was working hard by the light of his giant feathery friend's eyes and his own night vision, scraping away ruined feathers from his friend's arm.
"I hope neosporin works on...whatever you are."
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BAYMAX | big hero 6
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[So here he is with a big weird box in his tiny, tiny trailer home. Good thing Meranda is at work tonight. But UGH WHY TONIGHT. He was so low on blood. He needed to hunt and he had a headache because he didn't even have a chance to go drinking. Regular drinking.]
[WEH]
I guess y'just hit this button here...I hope they didn't send me one of those creepy sex robots by mistake.
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Roman Gulliver | OC
Feeeeeeeenny T-tooooooodd
[Don't cringe, Fenix, you signed up for this shit.]
[Roman scrambles over the metal guardrail that flanks the bridge the two of them are camping under for the evening. Once in the shadow of the bridge, he drops his disguise and squirrels his way over to their little base with a take-out clutched in his hands.]
[After he's made sure the curly-headed object of his affections has seen it, he puts it behind his back.]
I broughtcha somethin'.
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[He's currently lying on his back on one of the little cardboard 'mats' they'd laid out, hands folded over his stomach and hat laid over his face. He smirks behind it.]
Oh yeah? What kinda somethin'?
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Henry Townshend | Silent Hill 4: The Room | ROUTE 29 UNIVERSE
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Which was why she found herself in the kitchen of Shark House with more bags of Must Sell Now holiday goodies than she could reasonably eat and a few bottles of plum wine. She couldn't even drown her sorrows with Envy, he was one official to-do away from being happily married, as far as Lust was concerned. Lucky bastard. And Greed had a veritable harem to choose from. Also a lucky bastard, though Lust knew damn well she could have the same if she really wanted. It was just so much of a bother.
But that didn't mean she had to be a cliche on the couch all by herself.
"Heather? Henry? Anyone home? I have candy and liquor!"
And there were good odds one of those two were home and doing nothing, and she figured the announcement of booze and chocolate was like shaking a bag of Poketreats where Guttle could hear.
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WAITING MAKES THE HEART GROW PARANOID AS FUCK
It felt a little weird not to have Cheerios or Clam out and waiting with him so he flipped out his Poke'Gear and tried to beat Envy's score at Five Nights at Fantina's. This would take a while. He and his team were pretty far back on the waiting list.
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SPELLCHECK
It still had about 40 seconds to go. He was in his Snorlax PJs and not really ready for the day. Even though it was noon.
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CH-CH-CH-CHANGES
Until about three that morning.
"Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot." Three-o-clock! It was three-o-clock and the world needed to know! "Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot."
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A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words
He'd been doing pretty well lately squashing down those feelings. His methods thus far had included actually training his Pokemon, staring deeply into his cereal any time Lust was in the room (and thus having cereal on-hand nearly 70% of the time a man can love cereal okay it's not weird) and today, taking photos.
Henry had snapped a few very nice pictures of the Eevee Pile as they dozed in a patch of sun streaming through one of the windows and as he turned to see if he could find any other dozing Pokemon, there she was standing by the microwave. The glow from inside illuminated the curls in her hair in an almost hypnotic way.
This time Henry would have to push aside his fears because this was art and he was not going to let some crush butterflies get in the way of snapping the perfect photo. He stood with great conviction and moved closer.
"Lust...I need. I need you to stay perfectly still. Only for a second."
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Maurice Hutch: OC
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[He can tell it's a human and not another kangaroo or some other strange Australian animal...and certainly not one of the terrible bunyips. And he also knows that everyone ought to be asleep. The footfalls don't sound like Laurence or any of his crew. He raises his head and swings it around to near where he heard the steps, a vast black shape in the dark.]
Who are you, and why are you here?
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Hanna Falk Cross || Hanna is not a Boy's Name
The Meeting
Not really.
He certainly didn't call ahead. He knew that if he did, he'd chicken out and come up with some excuse that he knew his mother would siiiiiigh at for not following through. Thanksgiving wasn't that long ago and their last conversation hadn't been...great. And now it was even more nerve-wracking because there was another thing that She Didn't Know About. And it was sitting in the passenger seat of Maurice's truck.
"Naw, man, she's great. Just...you know! Tough love! I mean, she already fuckin' guessed I was different when I was tryin' to tell her I was a vampire. I just hope Sammy's not there."
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Birds of Paradise
The Lorikeet was a smallish place, packed with fake plants and filled with a fine haze of various kinds of smoke. A neon jukebox sat in the corner and, to Maurice's surprise, so did Horas and the boys at their signature table.
This was one thing he hadn't counted on and he actually stopped in the doorway, his shoulders hunched, barring Hanna's way. He hadn't seen Horas...or any members of the Dogtrot murder for a WHILE. They were all laughing--Horas, short and mustached, living in his sweater. Josh with his long red fabio curls was trying to build a tower out of drink glasses. Matt was just letting it happen. Wesley had half his homework sprawled across the table and was all but eating his pencil.
Maurice swallowed and glanced back over his shoulder. "Remember the guy I told you about before? The guy who's above me in the Murder? He's uh...here. I'm sorry for everything that's about to happen."
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FREE TO A GOOD HOME
But Maurice was nothing if not a survivor so he'd found them a safe little alley on the older side of Dogtrot. It was further to work for Hanna, but it was safe. November had edged into December.
"Okay aaaaaaand...open your eyes!"
Between them balanced on the truck console was a small tray table (brand new). A pair of deli sandwiches (from the fancy deli) were balanced on either side of it. Or sort of balanced. Maurice was still bound and determined to feed Hanna properly. Plus he was dead, so...sandwiches didn't really do it for him anyway. And between the sandwiches was one of those plastic, battery towered tea lights.
"Tadaaaaaa!" Maurice was busting proud of himself.
God dammit Maury
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bow-chika-oh-god-no
After debating on snagging a piece of garlic bread, just to be a cheeky ass, and deciding against it, he, hair still kind of damp, slipped out of his jeans in the bedroom that was now his and stared at the bed, taking a few breathes of calming serenity in 'wow I get sheets to keep me warm instead of my icecube boyfriend.'
It had been a while since there was actually space, it had been a while since he had been able to sleep without worrying someone was going to knock on their window at night and ask for them to move or what they were doing. Hanna took this liberty to pull off his T-shirt, swallowing down self consciousness in just the thin tank top undershirt. It was warm enough. He had a good excuse.
Slipping under the covers, he took a deep breath and waited for a certain vampire to come in. He wasn't sure if he would come in and enjoy the opportunity of a bed or not but part of him was really hoping. That and, yanno. That the walls weren't paper thin.
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The Birds!
It was lunch time. Meranda was to go in at two but when she woke up to fix herself some breakfast she had found ANOTHER ONE. They weren't exactly invasive, the cranes, but they popped up in the weirdest places. It was time for answers. So here she stood in her pajamas, hair shoved to one side, not in the mood for bullshit.
"I know you're not a vampire. Open up."
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Use the buddy system, bro.
He glanced up from his book, looking at the clock and thinking that Maurice wouldn't be home from work for a while. He had a late shift, which was good...he hadn't wanted him to go out in the daylight again so soon after the last incident. But this also gave him the option of leaving without having to give a reason.
Pulling on another layer because it was actually cool out now that the sun was down, he locked the door behind him, no note left behind, and shoved his hands in his pockets. He let his feet take him where they would, and they just so happened to make a beeline towards the trees and all that silence and dark they offered. Smartest ginger on the planet right here.
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Maurice continued to shove the deep fried frog on a stick in Hanna's face. It was a warm night and the fair was lit up like Christmas in July. Which was sort of the theme for half of it. Music from two different stages battled to drown one another out and somewhere people screamed as they escaped death via gum and duct tape carnival ride.
"You can't go to a fair without eatin' somethin' fried and besides, if you don't gain a couple pounds by the time we go see Mom again, she'll kick my ass."
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On the cat walk
He had checked his bank balance earlier, frowning at it when his savings weren't as far ahead as he had hoped, but it was okay. He could just cut back on the soda and energy drinks and hope to god his enthusiastic, hyperactive nature would just pull him through life in his fucked up sleep schedule. Glancing at the door, he wondered when Maurice would be getting back, looking back down at his book again and settling in. Who knew, really. But at least it was nice, waiting for someone to come home and knowing they wanted to come home to him.
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The wrong bar, the wrong ginger.
By Hanna's lunch break, which he got late of course, he had called Maurice and asked him if he wanted to hit a bar that night, somewhere, anywhere, because after today, he'd need a drink, and thankfully he'd agreed. The end of his double couldn't come soon enough, and when Hanna finally clocked out, thankful for the spare change of clothes in his locker, he quickly changed and shoved pickle shoes back in the locker to retrieve them later. He'd rather not carry them around into any sort of restaurant.
Scanning the downtown area, he spotted something that looked a little like a bar he used to go to back home, and he made a beeline towards it, texting Maurice the address, and there he waited, practically melting into his chair and ordering a drink to start without his boyfriend. Long day was sure as hell long.
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Reanimator
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Welcome to Target, how may I help you?
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Henry Townshend | RYSLIG CONT.
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[He thinks they're dating now? The word dating was said, by Henry, in a way that sounded like he was agreeable to it. And Envy hadn't...really wanted to turn it down, as much as the idea of it sends sharp, anxious prickles shooting through his chest alongside some bizarre jittering that doesn't feel at all bad but that he doesn't understand.]
[And he had spent all that time trying to see if he could get Henry to think that he's hot. Which must mean something.]
[And as completely lost as he is over this, he still really wants Henry's attention in particular. Which is what brings him to his boyfriend's??? house today. ENVY IS ON A MISSION.]
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