[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.]
Because...because don't you have to go through some rigmarole to visit another country? I'm talking about getting through customs with a dragon. I think I'm gonna be sick again.
[And he was. But it wasn't as bad as it was the first time. He coughs and lets out a pitiful groan before resigning himself to all this. This is happening. And he's going to have to make the best of it.]
Sorry...Do you...have an umbrella or something? This bush isn't very good shade. What d'you mean captain? Are ya'll pirates?
[Because there's no such thing as a captain of anything else.]
[The talk about customs goes over Temeraire's head, except it probably has something to do with Government and is therefore probably nonsense.]
[Shade, though? That is something he can help with. He extends one massive black wing out over the bush, trying to angle it so that there's as much of a shadow as possible.]
There you are. I am not sure about umbrellas, but I might help you back to the tents this way.
[He lets out a wistful sigh at 'pirates'.]
I think it should be much more interesting to be a privateer than transported, but Laurence did not think so. Even though everyone says it is perfectly respectable work, and helpful to England.
[But Temeraire would never force Laurence to do anything that he would not like to do, just for his own sake. Not after all that Laurence has sacrificed for him. And that thought comes with a stab of guilt that makes him duck his head, because of course Laurence is no longer a captain at all, and it is all his fault.]
He is my captain in the Aerial Corps...or was, he is not in the Corps anymore. But he is still my captain, and they cannot make that not true.
[That is said more fiercely.]
But once you are inside, I shall go fetch him so that you may meet him yourself. He very much wanted to speak with you.
[When Temeraire's wing sweeps overhead, the coolness it brings is like a drink of water. The vampire stops freaking out and lets out a wheeze of relief. At least it sounds like the dragon is taking him to a friend. Of course the dragon has friends...]
[Now that he's done throwing a fit, he's able to squint out across the camp. Those aren't dragon tents. Okay. He's going to be talking to a human. Maurice sucks in a deep breath and lets it back out before standing up and squaring his shoulders. He is a brave adventurer and he is ready for whatever is about to happen. Please ignore the vomit on his shirt.]
Okay. Take me to your leader, Tim the Dragon. Let's do this.
[It's a very kind correction as he starts walking towards the camp, slowly enough that Maurice can stay underneath the shade of his wing as they make their way to the tents.]
[There isn't anyone out and about in the camp; everyone is inside the tents to escape the midday heat. Including Laurence, in his own tent. And that's the one Temeraire takes him to.]
Laurence is inside there, if you would go in.
[Not that there's really anywhere else TO go. The inside of the tent doesn't have much in it, but what is there is as neat and orderly as it's possible to make anything in the outback. There's a sleeping roll and a pair of chests and a rickety chair. And a man, who looks like he's been out working in a field all morning...which he has been. He's sitting and looking over plans for some sort of structure when Maurice comes in, but stands up immediately and gives him a stiffly polite nod. Yeah that vomit is noticed, but not commented on.]
You are the man Temeraire was speaking of, I assume?
![[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
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
[And he was. But it wasn't as bad as it was the first time. He coughs and lets out a pitiful groan before resigning himself to all this. This is happening. And he's going to have to make the best of it.]
Sorry...Do you...have an umbrella or something? This bush isn't very good shade. What d'you mean captain? Are ya'll pirates?
[Because there's no such thing as a captain of anything else.]
no subject
[Shade, though? That is something he can help with. He extends one massive black wing out over the bush, trying to angle it so that there's as much of a shadow as possible.]
There you are. I am not sure about umbrellas, but I might help you back to the tents this way.
[He lets out a wistful sigh at 'pirates'.]
I think it should be much more interesting to be a privateer than transported, but Laurence did not think so. Even though everyone says it is perfectly respectable work, and helpful to England.
[But Temeraire would never force Laurence to do anything that he would not like to do, just for his own sake. Not after all that Laurence has sacrificed for him. And that thought comes with a stab of guilt that makes him duck his head, because of course Laurence is no longer a captain at all, and it is all his fault.]
He is my captain in the Aerial Corps...or was, he is not in the Corps anymore. But he is still my captain, and they cannot make that not true.
[That is said more fiercely.]
But once you are inside, I shall go fetch him so that you may meet him yourself. He very much wanted to speak with you.
no subject
[Now that he's done throwing a fit, he's able to squint out across the camp. Those aren't dragon tents. Okay. He's going to be talking to a human. Maurice sucks in a deep breath and lets it back out before standing up and squaring his shoulders. He is a brave adventurer and he is ready for whatever is about to happen. Please ignore the vomit on his shirt.]
Okay. Take me to your leader, Tim the Dragon. Let's do this.
no subject
[It's a very kind correction as he starts walking towards the camp, slowly enough that Maurice can stay underneath the shade of his wing as they make their way to the tents.]
[There isn't anyone out and about in the camp; everyone is inside the tents to escape the midday heat. Including Laurence, in his own tent. And that's the one Temeraire takes him to.]
Laurence is inside there, if you would go in.
[Not that there's really anywhere else TO go. The inside of the tent doesn't have much in it, but what is there is as neat and orderly as it's possible to make anything in the outback. There's a sleeping roll and a pair of chests and a rickety chair. And a man, who looks like he's been out working in a field all morning...which he has been. He's sitting and looking over plans for some sort of structure when Maurice comes in, but stands up immediately and gives him a stiffly polite nod. Yeah that vomit is noticed, but not commented on.]
You are the man Temeraire was speaking of, I assume?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)