Maurice twitched and kept looking behind him through the bottom half of the screen door (which was nearly shredded through thanks to many generations of cats) as Hanna approached. Once he was within range, the vampire stood again and planted a hand against his DUMB LITTLE FACE.
"I never heard you win no turkey callin' contest, Elmo." He'd been with his mother for maybe five minutes and already his accent had thickened. It just happened. Maurice puffed out another little sigh and tried to put on his best brave face for Hanna. Maybe he couldn't protect him from giant forest spiders, but he'd protect him from his family down to the last blow if he had to.
The kitchen was roomy and very blue and every available surface was crammed with ceramics and decorative pots and doilies. The fridge was a magnet-smothered monolith coated in drawings from several generations of Hutches.
AND THERE WAS MARGRET at the coffee pot humming away with her back to them.
It was Maurice who cleared his throat. He'd practiced the line a dozen different ways in front of his truck mirror while Hanna was asleep or otherwise not on the scene. And it always came out the same: flutey, like he was being squeezed as he said it. "Momma, this is Hanna."
He braced for impact.
Margret hadn't been entirely sure she'd heard him right, but when she turned she startled because there sure was a stranger standing in her kitchen! This was the present. It was her turn for her stomach to do a flip. Not a lot caught Margret Rose Hutch off guard, but for an instant, a lot of Maurice was visible in her baffled face. If she'd been holding a coffee mug, she would have dropped it. It then occurred to her that not only had he brought her a present, it was a young man. A very sickly looking one at that. Margret looked between the two of them for a moment before settling on her son.
Maurice puffed himself up like a horned toad and prepared himself for the second knock-down drag-out he would have with her in his life and this time it wouldn't be a tie.
But a fight didn't happen because instead of making a pair of fists, Margret Hutch slowly lifted her hands to her mouth and started making this sound. It was soft at first, nearly inaudible, but then it swelled and became the tell-tale whistle of a kettle coming to a boil or a train barreling down some tracks or maybe a beach ball deflating. She shuffled her fuzzy slippers in place and nearly started to cry.
"Maurice, he. Is. Darlin'."
You have five seconds to run, Hanna, because HERE SHE FUCKING COMES.
Being lead into the kitchen, Hanna didn't really notice much about it aside from the woman inside. He was focused because huh. Maurice's family. His mom. Someone who knew him, that loved him too and there was the teeniest hope in his stomach that wanted this to go over well.
When she turned though, he froze, standing up straight and stiff, kind of wishing he was holding Maurice's bigger, colder hand. But instead it was just him, arm to arm with the guy, and his momma staring at him and he kind of winced when she started making some kind of noise. What was tha-
He laughed, a nervous habit and it came out more like a squeak. What did she just say? He swallows, again nervous, and he gives Maurice a quick glance, unsure what to do before he opens his mouth again, trying for actual words.
"Uh....H-hi Mrs. Hutch?" It comes out more as a question, and he lifts his hand, even though it feels like it's made of lead and gives a pathetic little wave.
Maurice wasn't fast enough. All he could do is turn and watch as the scene played out before him in slow motion. Margret rushed the poor ginger, grabbing him up the way she'd done him only moments before. She held him aloft by his armpits, SEVERAL feet above the kitchen floor and looked him over. Her face was lit up like Christmas and the corners of her eyes wrinkled deeply as she just laughed and laughed. Then she pulled him into her chest where he was never fucking seen again.
Goodbye, Hanna.
"M-momma! Momma don't BREAK HIM!" Maurice found his voice again and shoved his hands between them, trying to pry his boyfriend free. Everything was happening so much and NONE of it was what he expected. That had been happening to him a lot lately. You wake the fuck up behind the Wendy's you nearly died behind years ago and suddenly everything you've ever wanted is dumped right back into your lap.
"Where on EARTH did you find him? You know I thought I'd be sad about not gettin' no grandbabies if you turned out gay but I think I'll just keep him myself!" Margret finally let Hanna go. For a moment. Then she was prodding him, turning his jaw from one side to the other like one might a fine horse. But then, then the trouble started. She'd noticed something when trying to absorb the poor wizard into her bossum. Her expression suddenly clouded as she rounded on Maurice.
Maurice, who'd started puffing out weak confused laughs, froze. Wh-what. What was wrong? He thought she liked--
"WHY IN TH' HELL IS THIS BOY SO SKINNY? I raised you better'n that!" She jabbed a finger hard against his chest.
Maurice wanted to crawl into a hole. "Wh--Daddy's skinny!"
"YOUR DADDY HAS A METABOLISM PROBLEM."
The vampire started to shrink behind Hanna. SHE LIKED HIM MORE RIGHT NOW, maybe he wouldn't die if he hid behind him. "Well i-it aint for lack of tryin'!"
Hanna was actually kind of used to this kind of behavior. Maurice liked to haul him around when he was drunk, like he couldn't walk for himself, but he hadn't ever really had a woman do that to him. Not for years, when he was the age you were supposed to lift kids up and hold them. The surprised holler was drown out by the hug, and he tried not to struggle, as if it might save him from certain death. You feign it and the predator will stop squeezing, right?
It was a little dizzying when his feet touched the ground again, unsure where to look, but then there were hands on his face, big blue eyes looking up at the woman from behind his even larger square frames.
"Uh." He manages again, most intelligently, before the two much larger people in the room start bickering as if he didn't exist. Obviously his lack of weight was a noticeable issue, but explaining it? It was a little harder, especially for normal people.
"I've got an enzyme deficiency." While Hanna wasn't very good at lying to people he loved, practical strangers was a little easier, and the skill he used doing it was almost a little scary, even if nervous. It's like he's done this before. "He feeds me plenty, promise."
Maurice did not mind him lying to his mother one bit and he nodded frantically. "Yeah, what he said!"
Margret put her fists on her hips and gave the both of them a squint before letting it drop. "Well, I'm still sendin' some casserole home with ya'll." Sort of letting int drop. And then, like the clouds over the sea, her mood changed again in an instant. "Come on in the livin' room and tell me how ya'll met!"
"Momma, you wouldn't belive us if we told you." Maurice heaved a sigh and followed her, motioning for Hanna to follow suit.
"Well if you won't tell me, maybe little Carrot Top will. You make yourself at home sweetheart, you sit anywhere you like, it's all got cat hair on it, you can't hurt nothin'. It's about time somebody showed up to take care of my boy when I'm not around to do it."
And it was true. The living room was rather small--several over stuffed chairs and love seats crowded around an admittedly nice TV that their older son set up for them. And there was cat hair everywhere. A laundry hamper filled with stuffed animals sat in the corner and a few had migrated over the floor.
Maurice looked around and noticed something was missing."Momma, where's Creepy Jesus?"
"One of the cats knocked him off behind the TV."
"Aw." He sank down on one side of the sofa and looked toward the hallway. Snores could be heard floating down the hall. "Daddy must be beat."
"Him an' PJ and that blasted boat. So, Hanna, was it? Tell me about yourself!"
"I have no problem with that." Casserole sounds amazing, no matter if he wasn't hungry all the time like his appearance might suggest. Hanna loved home cooked meals since his own cooking was atrocious. Though, Maurice was quite right when he said she probably wouldn't believe the two of them. The city was...a weird memory, and the way he even arrived in this dimension was a bit of a blur. Kind of a mesh of odd memories and a little bit, or maybe a lot of magic.
Still, he was sure that he could spin it to a tale that was a little more believable. Or at least he could try his best at it.
The living room was a lot homier than his own in his sad little apartment back home, a little smile finding him as he chose a seat next to Maurice, finding that while he usually wasn't too worried about being alone, sitting next to the vampire gave him comfort in the unfamiliar setting. But, with the warm welcome, even if he was sure he was going to wake up with bruises tomorrow from the woman's hug, he was starting to remember just how talkative he realy was. And also how distracted he could be. "The hell is Creepy Jesus, dude." Like he could ignore a comment like that.
In any case, he sat up at attention when his name was said, shrugging casually as he thought of a good response. "I work part time as a cashier at Target, yanno. The Department store? I usually work electronic department, but cashier calls to me more often than not since they don't believe in hiring or raises." His hand slipped onto the couch between himself and Maurice, tapping out a nervous little beat with his fingers, "I uh..." he trails off, glancing at Maurice, unsure what he was allowed to say. Was Magic allowed to be part of his origin story? "I've got another job too..."
"I'll tell you later," said Maurice, while still looking at his mother. It wasn't his turn to talk. Now that the buzz had wound down, Margret had her eyes trained on the wizard. He couldn't help blurting out, "He's weird like me."
The old woman sank down in her recliner that was paired with another. A little table sat between them with the phone on top. She and Zachary sat in their thrones side by side most afternoons. "Is that right? Boy, you better have a good story if you're gonna try and be as weird as Maurice. You know when he was eight I caught him linin' up all his shoes and talkin' to them. I never did see a boy have as many shoes as him."
Hanna tried his best to keep a straight face for Maurice's sake, but it was too hard. He snorted, covered his mouth and glanced over at Maurice, his smile he attempted to cover barely obscured by his fingers. "That sounds like a kodiac moment if I ever heard one."
Poor Maurice.
"But, no really. I'm...Well, I'm a paranormal investigator. Yanno, kind of like on the tv, but I do actual work instead of try and talk to ancient ghosts in modern english with a shitty camera man with shaky hands." He sits up a little, leaning an arm on the chair to help and sticks a hand in his pocket, pulling out a marker. "I take on cases and do magic and shit. Help out selkies and vampires. That sort of thing."
Maurice promptly planted a hand against the side of Hanna's face to skew his glasses.
"Nobody asked you, nerd." He instantly removed his hand when Margret growled at him. Maybe Maurice's own occasional grumbles weren't from him being a vampire after all. He folded his arms and sank further into the sofa.
Meanwhile, Margret just beamed at this new information. "A magician in the fam'ly!" She clasped her big bear paw hands. "Maurice deals with selkies too! I didn't realize it was such a common thing!"
"Silkies. Mr. Foss's chickens were silkies, Momma."
Margret's expression grew stormy again at being corrected, but then it faded. Well they did sound alike. She looked at Hanna pointedly, waiting on an explanation.
Hanna straightened his glasses, giving a playful shove back before righting himself in his seat, half tempted to stick his tongue out at Maurice. It was kind of fun having all the power and watching Maurice have to sit and behave himself. Maybe they should visit more often?
"Well, i've dealt with some cockatrices too, though really it's not all that common. Those things are a pain and a half though, trust me."
He sits up, adjusting himself on the seat to sit crisscross and uncaps his marker, glancing around, "Uh, anyways. Magic. I use runes? So it's like, symbols that hold power. They're pretty basic, but I mean, totally useful and they've helped me out a lot. Can't exactly remove a ghost from their haunt with just a couple words and a hammer."
It did Margret's heart good to see her son seated next to somebody he could pick at, and who he would allow to pick at him. Maurice had always been shy about physical contact ever since The Fight. She couldn't help growing misty eyed as Hanna's words faded in and out of her range of attention.
Meanwhile, Maurice had phased from pouting to fretting. There was SO MUCH ELSE he wanted to talk to his mom about, like getting trapped in various alternate dimensions for multiple years, but this was the Big One.
"Hanna made a mirror where I could see myself."
"Did he!" Margret beamed at the red-head before turning her attention back to her son. "You must not use it much, hon, you look a mess. An' I say that in the nicest way possible."
Maurice groaned and sank so far down on the sofa that his ass was hanging off the cushion. "It's been a long week, Momma. This is more important to me than my hair."
While Hanna would usually agree, probably with a smile even, he hops to a quick defense, nodding in Maurice's direction. "It has been a long one. I wasnt exactly supposed to show up. I mean...honestly im still not sure how but...speaking of weird im not really from this version of the US, like. Not just saying i wasnt born in Texas. Im an east coast boy, but. Dimensional wise..." he pauses, biting his lip.
How to phrase all this.
"i dont have any sort of ability in it but...I'd say he looks great after all the interdimensional accommodating he's had to do."
Margret pouted her lip, suddenly looking worried. Maurice LOVED his hair. But then she was blindsided by inter-dimensional talk and her face turned into a brick wall as she tried to decide how she felt about that.
"Mmmmmmn,"
"Uh--what he means is! Uh." Maurice struggled to sit up. How the hell to explain this?? "Like...there was this...world. But different. But sorta the same. And--"
"I watch Star Trek, boy, I know what another dimension is."
Maurice shut his mouth again. That was right. Ever since his little dip into the world of the paranormal, his mother had been doing 'research'. And by research that meant watching shitty movies and sending him a VtM manual in the mail.
"What matters is," she went on. "Is ya'll are here and you're safe."
"I just, figures you outta know. Rough week and all." Hanna finished lamely, unsure of what else to say. The atmosphere in the south was sure hard to read comparatively to where he was from. Or maybe it was just the tense feeling in the air that both he and Maurice had been giving off that was still sort of lingering.
He adjusts again in his seat, capping his marker and leaning a little against Maurice so he can find his barings again. "Um...y-you said you have cats right?" Expert change of subject there Hanna.
Suddenly, the big woman's hands were brought together in a thunderous clap. "That's right, I need to introduce you to the rest of th' family!"
She stood and shuffled off.
Maurice let out a huge breath he didn't know he was holding and leaned his head on top of Hanna's. "So far so good, huh? It'll take her a minute to find all those cats. They don't like me now that I'm dead."
Hanna's hand shakily found Maurice's, laughing under his breath. "Its okay. Animals sometimes have a problem with my uh..scent too. But usually its okay."
Hes still waiting to mess up, swallowing hard as he takes in the easy feeling of a nice cuddle on the couch, the weight of Maurices chin settles on his head. Who knew meeting family was so nerve wrecking? At least it was going well for the most part. "Your mom at least seems happy at the IDEA of me. Thats a start, right?"
"Ahah hah, yeah." Now that they were alone, Maurice couldn't help it. He started to wheeze, then it grew into that nervous laugh of his and he couldn't stop. "I think she likes you...so I'm sorry for whatever bruises she gave you. I don't think you're that scrawny anyway, it's just. Well, you've seen us."
"Heeeere they are!" Margret boomed and tromped back into the livingroom with no less than five cats in various states of awake dangling from her big arms. There were two orange ones, a black one, a calico one, and one with dark points. Their legs waved listlessly. They were used to this.
Maurice groaned and pulled his shirt up over his nose. "Hanna, meet the bane of my existence since I was twelve."
"You hush, they love you, Maurice."
The calico one caught sight of Maurice and hissed.
Hanna shrugs, giving himself a good look over. "Hey. I know what i look like. I feel like i weigh less than i look anyways. Its not so bad if you dont pick me up, but seems that wasnt just a you thing. You get that from her, then?" Assuming that the drunk habit of his was adopted from mrs. Hutch.
He is a little surprised when she comes back in the room with five cats though. He had been expecting like...three. "jesu- uh. Gosh darn thats a lot of cats."He manages to catch himself, figuring that wasnt the best swear to use in a home like this.
Margret proceded to dump ALL FIVE OF THEM onto Hanna because in her mind her cats loved everyone as much as she did. Maurice cringed away as the calico crawled over his shoulder and flung itself back down the hall. The orange ones stayed on Hanna's lap while the black one squirmed its way under the sofa. The pointed one refused to let go of Margret's shirt and just kind of clung there, awkwardly, nearly pulling it off her shoulder.
"Now, there's Tito, Cough Drop, Sassy, Melon, and Big Cat." Big Cat was the one clinging to her still.
"Mommaaaaaa, he doesn't wanna see the caaaaats." Maurice whined into his hands. "HACHOOH."
Hanna lifts both hands as the cat settles easily in his lap, unsure of whether or not it wants to be pet or not. Some cats are lap cats but the moment you touch them its certain death. He snorts at the one cat still clinging to the large woman, and glances at Maurice, just now realizing he probably has an allergy.
"I didnt know you were allergic...usually that shit goes away when you turn..." though he supposed his sort of vampirism was different than the kind he was used too. Weird cross dimensions.
"That's Cough Drop. When we found her as a little kitten, she had a bunch of them stuck to her fur and she smelled like Halls for a month. She's twelve."
Cough Drop blinked lazily up into Hanna's face, as if she didn't care if Hanna was a human or a statue. She'd seen everything. They found her behind a pharmacy.
Margret and Big Cat dropped back down into the recliner. "So, where you stayin' right now, Hanna?"
Maurice dug his claws into the sofa. He hadn't thought about that.
Just starting to pet the lazy animal since it seemed harmless, and not bothered by the scent of death lingering around for those with stronger senses, his hand paused above the animal, looking up at her from across the room.
Margret opened her mouth, then closed it. "Oh..." Now that was surprising. They were moving awfully fast, weren't they? Just how long had they known each other? Maurice certainly didn't bring him up at Thanksgiving...though she honestly hadn't given him much of a chance.
Hadn't he had a broken arm two weeks ago? She squinted at it.
Maurice suddenly sat up and challenged her with his eyes. "He doesn't have anywhere to live in this dimension, Momma. I love him and I'm not gonna let him stay in some crappy motel in Dogtrot! He'd get eaten alive!"
Margret stared back at him for a long moment before sinking back down, petting Big Cat too hard. "Good boy."
He really did love that skinny little redheaded boy, didn't he?
Part of him wanted to stand up and mention traditional values and all that since one party was dead there wasnt...so much of a problem? But. Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut on that. Best not upset her more.
"I dont take up too much room anyways and, well...dont really have a job in this neck of the woods either. I really appreciate it." Sleeping on Maurice was comfier than just on the cab seat anyways. But he wont mention that either.
It had been surreal fumbling through his own job ever since he got back. After so many years of doing NOTHING but fighting monsters and trying not to die, fixing cars was cake once he got back into the grove. Even Mr. Corey noticed that he'd picked up the pace. He didn't even have time to bicker with Meranda.
"He's right, Momma, I can just stick him between the fridge and the wall and you don't even know he's there!" Maurice forced a broad, jagged grin. "There's new stores poppin' up down town every day. He'll be back on his feet in no time."
Margret still couldn't help but puff out a concerned sigh. She was Maurice's mother and very much like him. She wanted to help them, but they were by no means a rich family.
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theattic2014-11-09 07:55 pm
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"I never heard you win no turkey callin' contest, Elmo." He'd been with his mother for maybe five minutes and already his accent had thickened. It just happened. Maurice puffed out another little sigh and tried to put on his best brave face for Hanna. Maybe he couldn't protect him from giant forest spiders, but he'd protect him from his family down to the last blow if he had to.
The kitchen was roomy and very blue and every available surface was crammed with ceramics and decorative pots and doilies. The fridge was a magnet-smothered monolith coated in drawings from several generations of Hutches.
AND THERE WAS MARGRET at the coffee pot humming away with her back to them.
It was Maurice who cleared his throat. He'd practiced the line a dozen different ways in front of his truck mirror while Hanna was asleep or otherwise not on the scene. And it always came out the same: flutey, like he was being squeezed as he said it. "Momma, this is Hanna."
He braced for impact.
Margret hadn't been entirely sure she'd heard him right, but when she turned she startled because there sure was a stranger standing in her kitchen! This was the present. It was her turn for her stomach to do a flip. Not a lot caught Margret Rose Hutch off guard, but for an instant, a lot of Maurice was visible in her baffled face. If she'd been holding a coffee mug, she would have dropped it. It then occurred to her that not only had he brought her a present, it was a young man. A very sickly looking one at that. Margret looked between the two of them for a moment before settling on her son.
Maurice puffed himself up like a horned toad and prepared himself for the second knock-down drag-out he would have with her in his life and this time it wouldn't be a tie.
But a fight didn't happen because instead of making a pair of fists, Margret Hutch slowly lifted her hands to her mouth and started making this sound. It was soft at first, nearly inaudible, but then it swelled and became the tell-tale whistle of a kettle coming to a boil or a train barreling down some tracks or maybe a beach ball deflating. She shuffled her fuzzy slippers in place and nearly started to cry.
"Maurice, he. Is. Darlin'."
You have five seconds to run, Hanna, because HERE SHE FUCKING COMES.
no subject
When she turned though, he froze, standing up straight and stiff, kind of wishing he was holding Maurice's bigger, colder hand. But instead it was just him, arm to arm with the guy, and his momma staring at him and he kind of winced when she started making some kind of noise. What was tha-
He laughed, a nervous habit and it came out more like a squeak. What did she just say? He swallows, again nervous, and he gives Maurice a quick glance, unsure what to do before he opens his mouth again, trying for actual words.
"Uh....H-hi Mrs. Hutch?" It comes out more as a question, and he lifts his hand, even though it feels like it's made of lead and gives a pathetic little wave.
no subject
Goodbye, Hanna.
"M-momma! Momma don't BREAK HIM!" Maurice found his voice again and shoved his hands between them, trying to pry his boyfriend free. Everything was happening so much and NONE of it was what he expected. That had been happening to him a lot lately. You wake the fuck up behind the Wendy's you nearly died behind years ago and suddenly everything you've ever wanted is dumped right back into your lap.
"Where on EARTH did you find him? You know I thought I'd be sad about not gettin' no grandbabies if you turned out gay but I think I'll just keep him myself!" Margret finally let Hanna go. For a moment. Then she was prodding him, turning his jaw from one side to the other like one might a fine horse. But then, then the trouble started. She'd noticed something when trying to absorb the poor wizard into her bossum. Her expression suddenly clouded as she rounded on Maurice.
Maurice, who'd started puffing out weak confused laughs, froze. Wh-what. What was wrong? He thought she liked--
"WHY IN TH' HELL IS THIS BOY SO SKINNY? I raised you better'n that!" She jabbed a finger hard against his chest.
Maurice wanted to crawl into a hole. "Wh--Daddy's skinny!"
"YOUR DADDY HAS A METABOLISM PROBLEM."
The vampire started to shrink behind Hanna. SHE LIKED HIM MORE RIGHT NOW, maybe he wouldn't die if he hid behind him. "Well i-it aint for lack of tryin'!"
no subject
It was a little dizzying when his feet touched the ground again, unsure where to look, but then there were hands on his face, big blue eyes looking up at the woman from behind his even larger square frames.
"Uh." He manages again, most intelligently, before the two much larger people in the room start bickering as if he didn't exist. Obviously his lack of weight was a noticeable issue, but explaining it? It was a little harder, especially for normal people.
"I've got an enzyme deficiency." While Hanna wasn't very good at lying to people he loved, practical strangers was a little easier, and the skill he used doing it was almost a little scary, even if nervous. It's like he's done this before. "He feeds me plenty, promise."
no subject
Margret put her fists on her hips and gave the both of them a squint before letting it drop. "Well, I'm still sendin' some casserole home with ya'll." Sort of letting int drop. And then, like the clouds over the sea, her mood changed again in an instant. "Come on in the livin' room and tell me how ya'll met!"
"Momma, you wouldn't belive us if we told you." Maurice heaved a sigh and followed her, motioning for Hanna to follow suit.
"Well if you won't tell me, maybe little Carrot Top will. You make yourself at home sweetheart, you sit anywhere you like, it's all got cat hair on it, you can't hurt nothin'. It's about time somebody showed up to take care of my boy when I'm not around to do it."
And it was true. The living room was rather small--several over stuffed chairs and love seats crowded around an admittedly nice TV that their older son set up for them. And there was cat hair everywhere. A laundry hamper filled with stuffed animals sat in the corner and a few had migrated over the floor.
Maurice looked around and noticed something was missing."Momma, where's Creepy Jesus?"
"One of the cats knocked him off behind the TV."
"Aw." He sank down on one side of the sofa and looked toward the hallway. Snores could be heard floating down the hall. "Daddy must be beat."
"Him an' PJ and that blasted boat. So, Hanna, was it? Tell me about yourself!"
"Oh, well he's a--"
"I didn't name you Hanna, boy."
Maurice shut his mouth.
no subject
Still, he was sure that he could spin it to a tale that was a little more believable. Or at least he could try his best at it.
The living room was a lot homier than his own in his sad little apartment back home, a little smile finding him as he chose a seat next to Maurice, finding that while he usually wasn't too worried about being alone, sitting next to the vampire gave him comfort in the unfamiliar setting. But, with the warm welcome, even if he was sure he was going to wake up with bruises tomorrow from the woman's hug, he was starting to remember just how talkative he realy was. And also how distracted he could be. "The hell is Creepy Jesus, dude." Like he could ignore a comment like that.
In any case, he sat up at attention when his name was said, shrugging casually as he thought of a good response. "I work part time as a cashier at Target, yanno. The Department store? I usually work electronic department, but cashier calls to me more often than not since they don't believe in hiring or raises." His hand slipped onto the couch between himself and Maurice, tapping out a nervous little beat with his fingers, "I uh..." he trails off, glancing at Maurice, unsure what he was allowed to say. Was Magic allowed to be part of his origin story? "I've got another job too..."
no subject
The old woman sank down in her recliner that was paired with another. A little table sat between them with the phone on top. She and Zachary sat in their thrones side by side most afternoons. "Is that right? Boy, you better have a good story if you're gonna try and be as weird as Maurice. You know when he was eight I caught him linin' up all his shoes and talkin' to them. I never did see a boy have as many shoes as him."
"MOMMA."
no subject
Poor Maurice.
"But, no really. I'm...Well, I'm a paranormal investigator. Yanno, kind of like on the tv, but I do actual work instead of try and talk to ancient ghosts in modern english with a shitty camera man with shaky hands." He sits up a little, leaning an arm on the chair to help and sticks a hand in his pocket, pulling out a marker. "I take on cases and do magic and shit. Help out selkies and vampires. That sort of thing."
no subject
"Nobody asked you, nerd." He instantly removed his hand when Margret growled at him. Maybe Maurice's own occasional grumbles weren't from him being a vampire after all. He folded his arms and sank further into the sofa.
Meanwhile, Margret just beamed at this new information. "A magician in the fam'ly!" She clasped her big bear paw hands. "Maurice deals with selkies too! I didn't realize it was such a common thing!"
"Silkies. Mr. Foss's chickens were silkies, Momma."
Margret's expression grew stormy again at being corrected, but then it faded. Well they did sound alike. She looked at Hanna pointedly, waiting on an explanation.
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"Well, i've dealt with some cockatrices too, though really it's not all that common. Those things are a pain and a half though, trust me."
He sits up, adjusting himself on the seat to sit crisscross and uncaps his marker, glancing around, "Uh, anyways. Magic. I use runes? So it's like, symbols that hold power. They're pretty basic, but I mean, totally useful and they've helped me out a lot. Can't exactly remove a ghost from their haunt with just a couple words and a hammer."
no subject
Meanwhile, Maurice had phased from pouting to fretting. There was SO MUCH ELSE he wanted to talk to his mom about, like getting trapped in various alternate dimensions for multiple years, but this was the Big One.
"Hanna made a mirror where I could see myself."
"Did he!" Margret beamed at the red-head before turning her attention back to her son. "You must not use it much, hon, you look a mess. An' I say that in the nicest way possible."
Maurice groaned and sank so far down on the sofa that his ass was hanging off the cushion. "It's been a long week, Momma. This is more important to me than my hair."
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How to phrase all this.
"i dont have any sort of ability in it but...I'd say he looks great after all the interdimensional accommodating he's had to do."
no subject
"Mmmmmmn,"
"Uh--what he means is! Uh." Maurice struggled to sit up. How the hell to explain this?? "Like...there was this...world. But different. But sorta the same. And--"
"I watch Star Trek, boy, I know what another dimension is."
Maurice shut his mouth again. That was right. Ever since his little dip into the world of the paranormal, his mother had been doing 'research'. And by research that meant watching shitty movies and sending him a VtM manual in the mail.
"What matters is," she went on. "Is ya'll are here and you're safe."
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He adjusts again in his seat, capping his marker and leaning a little against Maurice so he can find his barings again. "Um...y-you said you have cats right?" Expert change of subject there Hanna.
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She stood and shuffled off.
Maurice let out a huge breath he didn't know he was holding and leaned his head on top of Hanna's. "So far so good, huh? It'll take her a minute to find all those cats. They don't like me now that I'm dead."
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Hes still waiting to mess up, swallowing hard as he takes in the easy feeling of a nice cuddle on the couch, the weight of Maurices chin settles on his head. Who knew meeting family was so nerve wrecking? At least it was going well for the most part. "Your mom at least seems happy at the IDEA of me. Thats a start, right?"
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"Heeeere they are!" Margret boomed and tromped back into the livingroom with no less than five cats in various states of awake dangling from her big arms. There were two orange ones, a black one, a calico one, and one with dark points. Their legs waved listlessly. They were used to this.
Maurice groaned and pulled his shirt up over his nose. "Hanna, meet the bane of my existence since I was twelve."
"You hush, they love you, Maurice."
The calico one caught sight of Maurice and hissed.
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He is a little surprised when she comes back in the room with five cats though. He had been expecting like...three. "jesu- uh. Gosh darn thats a lot of cats."He manages to catch himself, figuring that wasnt the best swear to use in a home like this.
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Margret proceded to dump ALL FIVE OF THEM onto Hanna because in her mind her cats loved everyone as much as she did. Maurice cringed away as the calico crawled over his shoulder and flung itself back down the hall. The orange ones stayed on Hanna's lap while the black one squirmed its way under the sofa. The pointed one refused to let go of Margret's shirt and just kind of clung there, awkwardly, nearly pulling it off her shoulder.
"Now, there's Tito, Cough Drop, Sassy, Melon, and Big Cat." Big Cat was the one clinging to her still.
"Mommaaaaaa, he doesn't wanna see the caaaaats." Maurice whined into his hands. "HACHOOH."
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"I didnt know you were allergic...usually that shit goes away when you turn..." though he supposed his sort of vampirism was different than the kind he was used too. Weird cross dimensions.
"Uh...which one am i holding?"
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Cough Drop blinked lazily up into Hanna's face, as if she didn't care if Hanna was a human or a statue. She'd seen everything. They found her behind a pharmacy.
Margret and Big Cat dropped back down into the recliner. "So, where you stayin' right now, Hanna?"
Maurice dug his claws into the sofa. He hadn't thought about that.
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"Umm. With Maurice....?"
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Hadn't he had a broken arm two weeks ago? She squinted at it.
Maurice suddenly sat up and challenged her with his eyes. "He doesn't have anywhere to live in this dimension, Momma. I love him and I'm not gonna let him stay in some crappy motel in Dogtrot! He'd get eaten alive!"
Margret stared back at him for a long moment before sinking back down, petting Big Cat too hard. "Good boy."
He really did love that skinny little redheaded boy, didn't he?
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"I dont take up too much room anyways and, well...dont really have a job in this neck of the woods either. I really appreciate it." Sleeping on Maurice was comfier than just on the cab seat anyways. But he wont mention that either.
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"He's right, Momma, I can just stick him between the fridge and the wall and you don't even know he's there!" Maurice forced a broad, jagged grin. "There's new stores poppin' up down town every day. He'll be back on his feet in no time."
Margret still couldn't help but puff out a concerned sigh. She was Maurice's mother and very much like him. She wanted to help them, but they were by no means a rich family.
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