[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.]
[Everything has been pretty much awful for Maurice lately. The slayer is still after him. His roomie is close to snapping because of her psycho mom and NOW he has a fucking vampire chicken to deal with. He couldn't handle fighting alcoholism on top of all that so his new straight-and-narrow approach had to go.]
[So Maurice stumbles through the fucking outback with a half empty bottle of Everclear clutched in his hand. He'd heard the sounds of slumbering people, the clink of metal. He assumed it was a camping party or maybe an Insane Clown Posse gathering or something.]
[And it's then that he hears the VOICE. The vampire cries out and drops his booze. It shatters against a rock and he blinks around blearily, one hand to his ear. Was he standing behind a speaker? What day was it?]
[Temeraire draws his head back a little, startled, when the man drops the bottle. It smells very strong...not quite like rum, but similar. It must be spirits, which probably means...]
Are you from Sydney? ...Are you one of the convicts?
[They're drunk on spirits all the time. He leans back closer, a note of suspicion having entered his voice. The inhabitants of Sydney are not really his favorite people.]
I am not going to eat you, I do not know why you are so frightened. Why are you here?
[He squints and a huge serpentine shape solidifies in the darkness. Thanks to his night vision it doesn't take him long to figure out what he's looking at.]
[He hiccups and looks down at the shattered bottle by his feet. What was IN that shit? Sure he'd gone desert walking before but...but what the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK?]
A-am I dying? What's happening, I'm not a criminal!
[Maurice blinks. Hard. That was a fucking dragon. There's nothing else it could possibly be. Not a parade float, not some weird Burning Man structure, it was a breathing talking dragon.]
[A super British-sounding dragon.]
[And here stood Maurice in his tattered Ozzy Osborne shirt, ratty jeans, and hair with tree-day-old gel in it.]
Yer a dragon.
[If he'd had a heart it would have skipped a beat. He found himself torn. This was a dragon. A DRAGON. That was so fucking cool!]
[He waves his arm behind him to make sure he isn't about to bust his ass on a rock or some prickly bush and heavily sits down. He then promptly seems to forget Temeraire is even there.]
Dragons aren't real...but neither are vampires. I'm a vampire. I guess he can be a dragon. I'm not drunk enough for this.
[He then looks up at the enormous grey-ish creature.]
You look like a catfish. Why do you talk like Harry Potter?
[Maurice blinks. It hurts to blink. Oh, his poor head. An unfamiliar bird hoots somewhere and Maurice finds his attention somehow pulled away from the boat-sized reptile in front of him.]
Did you hear that?
[FOCUS, Maurice. Focus. You are having some kind of weird everclear-induced spirit journey. Pay attention to the dragon!]
Sorry, I-- I just went for a walk and now I don't know where I am. Do you know which way Dogtrot is? Texas?
[Had he walked all the way to the Oklahoma line? It wouldn't surprise him.]
[Temeraire's tail twitches and curls some, off in the dark, and he mutters:]
You are not very good at answering questions.
[Although the volume on that mutter is more along the lines of a person nearly shouting. Dragon lungs, man. But he tilts his head in confusion when the vampire man lists off places.]
[What is a vampire though. An occupation of some kind?]
...you must have walked a very long way, because I have not heard of those colonies. We are nearest to Sydney?
[The vampire lets out a little huff and tries to work out just what might have happened to him. He's been dumped into cars and taken places before...but he KNOWS he'd remember getting on an airplane. Or at least a boat. His stomach gives an unsettling lurch.]
You know what, Dragon? We can figure this out when it don't feel like there's a railroad spike in the roof of my mouth.
[He sits down again with a pained grunt and looks wearily at the shattered glass. The Everclear has already soaked into the red dirt.]
I heard of seein' fairies when you drink certain stuff but I never heard of seein' dragons.
[Temeraire has seen enough drunken sailors to at least know that the railroad spike is a normal feeling at least, and not literal.]
[And maybe he'll be better at answering questions when he's recovered. And in the morning Laurence will be awake, and will certainly know what to do about all this.]
Well, why shouldn't you see me? I am here, after all, and talking to you.
[Maurice blinks at him. And then proceeds to butcher the poor dragon's name right in front of him as if it were a lam.]
Timmeraereer. Okay. Well...Timmy...the dragon. My name is Maurice and I am going to sleep because I've made a lot of bad life choices tonight.
[The vampire promptly turns and crawls under the nearest outback shrub on his elbows and knees. If he'd been smart. Or sober. He would have taken on the shape of a bat or dog to maximize the shad ethe shrub would give him when the sun rose.]
[Temeraire's ruff flattens when he hears his name so very mispronounced, and he thinks that he should really correct Maurice...but oh, he's gone to sleep. Well, perhaps when he woke up he would be more sensible.]
[Not wanting Maurice to wake up first and walk away without him noticing, Temeraire turns to curl his tail around the area where the bush is and goes back to sleep himself.]
[In the morning, he informs Laurence about the drunk man sleeping in the bushes and claiming to be a vampire, which Laurence assures him are merely a fiction and that they could leave this Maurice asleep for now, and get him back to Sydney soon enough.]
[But when it is nearly noon, Temeraire thinks that really, he ought to have woken by now. And surely, he reasons to himself, it cannot be very comfortable to sleep underneath a bush. And the bunyips might find him, or something else dreadful, and then he would never get any answers.]
[So he leans his head down nearer to the bush, speaking in a voice that's decently quiet as far as he's concerned but could probably be heard from ten yards away.]
Maurice. Maurice, you ought to wake up now. It is nearly midday.
[That's the sound a man with a splitting headache makes when he is awoken by a dragon.]
[Maurice lifts his head and is instantly poked in the face and eyes with bramble. He swears under his breath and squints around in the searing daylight for the loudspeaker the police are obviously bellowing at him through.]
[The great black beast's broad head slowly comes into focus. Maurice blinks a few times and then he screams.]
[Who wouldn't?]
OOOOH, FUCK. Oh, fuck! You're real!
[He backs further into the bush and disturbs a couple of large beetles which only make the yelling worse.]
Ho-how are you so big? How does the FBI not know about you?
[He looks around. A colorful lizard skitters by.]
I'm in Australia. I'm in Australia talking to a dragon. I'm...gonna throw up.
[And he does. Excuse him a moment, Mr. Dragon. His ducks are almost in a row. The vampire coughs and sputters and rocks back onto his knees with his hand on his head.]
Is there a phone somewhere around here? My boss is gonna be so pissed at me.
I am not sure what the FBI or a phone are, so I am reasonably sure that they are not anywhere around here.
[But the poor man does still seem unwell, so he adds, more kindly.]
But I spoke with Laurence, and he has agreed that we will take you back to Sydney as soon as we can. Would you like to come out from under the bush? It cannot be very nice under there.
[His mouth tastes like floor cleaner. What did he drink? His eyes fall on the shattered Everclear bottle catching the sun in a merry way. Oh. Nothing good ever happened when he drank that shit, why did he think this time would be any different.]
I can't come out, I'll--I'm a vampire. We can't go in the sun. We'll die.
[No FBI? No phone? Maybe they just had different words for those things in Australia. For vampire too, maybe. He finds himself gazing helplessly up at Temeraire again. He looks a little different from how he'd expect a dragon to look. He's not green for one thing.]
Who is Laurence? Is he a cop? Am I going to jail, I don't have a passport or anything...
[Well, that's an alarming bit of information. Even if vampires may or may not be real, the idea that someone would die just from going in the sun...]
Oh! How terrible...you are really a vampire, then?
[Temeraire is not the most tactful of dragons. And he still doesn't know exactly what a vampire is; he's sure O'Dea would probably have told him, but he hadn't gotten the chance to ask the man yet.]
And Laurence is my captain. I am not sure about jail, if you are not a convict like you said then I am not sure why you should go to jail. Or a quarry.
[He knows that the convicts get put in quarries, because there had been talk of sending Laurence to one. Not for very long, Temeraire had made sure of that.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wolfintheattic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
theattic2014-11-09 07:55 pm
no subject
[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?
no subject
[So Maurice stumbles through the fucking outback with a half empty bottle of Everclear clutched in his hand. He'd heard the sounds of slumbering people, the clink of metal. He assumed it was a camping party or maybe an Insane Clown Posse gathering or something.]
[And it's then that he hears the VOICE. The vampire cries out and drops his booze. It shatters against a rock and he blinks around blearily, one hand to his ear. Was he standing behind a speaker? What day was it?]
I'm sorry!
[That doesn't answer his questions, Maurice.]
no subject
Are you from Sydney? ...Are you one of the convicts?
[They're drunk on spirits all the time. He leans back closer, a note of suspicion having entered his voice. The inhabitants of Sydney are not really his favorite people.]
I am not going to eat you, I do not know why you are so frightened. Why are you here?
[Maybe he was too drunk to hear the first time?]
no subject
[He hiccups and looks down at the shattered bottle by his feet. What was IN that shit? Sure he'd gone desert walking before but...but what the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK?]
A-am I dying? What's happening, I'm not a criminal!
no subject
I...did not think you were dying. Are you hurt?
[This guy sure does not seem like he's here on purpose or with any malicious intent, at least.]
no subject
[A super British-sounding dragon.]
[And here stood Maurice in his tattered Ozzy Osborne shirt, ratty jeans, and hair with tree-day-old gel in it.]
Yer a dragon.
[If he'd had a heart it would have skipped a beat. He found himself torn. This was a dragon. A DRAGON. That was so fucking cool!]
[And terrifying. He was probably going to die.]
no subject
Yes, I am a dragon.
...Are you certain you aren't hurt?
[mr not-a-convict r u ok]
no subject
Dragons aren't real...but neither are vampires. I'm a vampire. I guess he can be a dragon. I'm not drunk enough for this.
[He then looks up at the enormous grey-ish creature.]
You look like a catfish. Why do you talk like Harry Potter?
[I'm so sorry, dragon.]
Please don't eat me.
no subject
[He lets out an indignant puff of breath.]
I already said that I am not going to eat you. I do not have the slightest idea why people seem to think I will, it would be a dreadful thing to do.
...what is a vampire?
[He sounds the word out a little more slowly. It's not one that he's heard before.]
no subject
Did you hear that?
[FOCUS, Maurice. Focus. You are having some kind of weird everclear-induced spirit journey. Pay attention to the dragon!]
Sorry, I-- I just went for a walk and now I don't know where I am. Do you know which way Dogtrot is? Texas?
[Had he walked all the way to the Oklahoma line? It wouldn't surprise him.]
no subject
You are not very good at answering questions.
[Although the volume on that mutter is more along the lines of a person nearly shouting. Dragon lungs, man. But he tilts his head in confusion when the vampire man lists off places.]
[What is a vampire though. An occupation of some kind?]
...you must have walked a very long way, because I have not heard of those colonies. We are nearest to Sydney?
no subject
[Maurice sags in his entirety and rubs his head. He can't help but steal a peek at the monster's claws.]
I'm really buzzed right now and tired and...Sydney? That's in Australia aint it? I think you might be lost.
[REALLY.]
no subject
Yes, it is in Australia, and that is where we are.
You are lost.
no subject
[Maurice stood up as straight as he could. He was Margret Rose Hutch's son and he could argue with a stop sign.]
This is America. I know I've walked a long ways before but I'm pretty sure you can't walk to Australia. You'd have to go to security first.
no subject
And I know you cannot have walked from the trade outpost all by yourself, and that is the only place I have ever seen an American before.
[How did you get here??]
no subject
You know what, Dragon? We can figure this out when it don't feel like there's a railroad spike in the roof of my mouth.
[He sits down again with a pained grunt and looks wearily at the shattered glass. The Everclear has already soaked into the red dirt.]
I heard of seein' fairies when you drink certain stuff but I never heard of seein' dragons.
no subject
[And maybe he'll be better at answering questions when he's recovered. And in the morning Laurence will be awake, and will certainly know what to do about all this.]
Well, why shouldn't you see me? I am here, after all, and talking to you.
What is your name? I am Temeraire.
no subject
Timmeraereer. Okay. Well...Timmy...the dragon. My name is Maurice and I am going to sleep because I've made a lot of bad life choices tonight.
[The vampire promptly turns and crawls under the nearest outback shrub on his elbows and knees. If he'd been smart. Or sober. He would have taken on the shape of a bat or dog to maximize the shad ethe shrub would give him when the sun rose.]
[But this is Maurice Hutch we're talking about.]
no subject
[Not wanting Maurice to wake up first and walk away without him noticing, Temeraire turns to curl his tail around the area where the bush is and goes back to sleep himself.]
[In the morning, he informs Laurence about the drunk man sleeping in the bushes and claiming to be a vampire, which Laurence assures him are merely a fiction and that they could leave this Maurice asleep for now, and get him back to Sydney soon enough.]
[But when it is nearly noon, Temeraire thinks that really, he ought to have woken by now. And surely, he reasons to himself, it cannot be very comfortable to sleep underneath a bush. And the bunyips might find him, or something else dreadful, and then he would never get any answers.]
[So he leans his head down nearer to the bush, speaking in a voice that's decently quiet as far as he's concerned but could probably be heard from ten yards away.]
Maurice. Maurice, you ought to wake up now. It is nearly midday.
no subject
[That's the sound a man with a splitting headache makes when he is awoken by a dragon.]
[Maurice lifts his head and is instantly poked in the face and eyes with bramble. He swears under his breath and squints around in the searing daylight for the loudspeaker the police are obviously bellowing at him through.]
[The great black beast's broad head slowly comes into focus. Maurice blinks a few times and then he screams.]
[Who wouldn't?]
OOOOH, FUCK. Oh, fuck! You're real!
[He backs further into the bush and disturbs a couple of large beetles which only make the yelling worse.]
no subject
Of course I am real, I told you that several times already.
no subject
[He looks around. A colorful lizard skitters by.]
I'm in Australia. I'm in Australia talking to a dragon. I'm...gonna throw up.
[And he does. Excuse him a moment, Mr. Dragon. His ducks are almost in a row. The vampire coughs and sputters and rocks back onto his knees with his hand on his head.]
Is there a phone somewhere around here? My boss is gonna be so pissed at me.
no subject
[But the poor man does still seem unwell, so he adds, more kindly.]
But I spoke with Laurence, and he has agreed that we will take you back to Sydney as soon as we can. Would you like to come out from under the bush? It cannot be very nice under there.
no subject
I can't come out, I'll--I'm a vampire. We can't go in the sun. We'll die.
[No FBI? No phone? Maybe they just had different words for those things in Australia. For vampire too, maybe. He finds himself gazing helplessly up at Temeraire again. He looks a little different from how he'd expect a dragon to look. He's not green for one thing.]
Who is Laurence? Is he a cop? Am I going to jail, I don't have a passport or anything...
no subject
Oh! How terrible...you are really a vampire, then?
[Temeraire is not the most tactful of dragons. And he still doesn't know exactly what a vampire is; he's sure O'Dea would probably have told him, but he hadn't gotten the chance to ask the man yet.]
And Laurence is my captain. I am not sure about jail, if you are not a convict like you said then I am not sure why you should go to jail. Or a quarry.
[He knows that the convicts get put in quarries, because there had been talk of sending Laurence to one. Not for very long, Temeraire had made sure of that.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)