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[PSL] You put that urban fantasy right back where you found it (for
zunesareawesome)
Flynn doesn't get involved.
Not anymore; there had once been a time where he had been involved in many things. Wonderful things, adventurous things – but that time was long gone, that life lay behind him now. It had ended when he had convinced Simone to let him stay with her, to bite and turn him. He had looked forward to a lifetime, no, countless lifetimes, with her, spending eternity together. Had been ready for it, or so he had thought.
After three days, three frightening, wonderful and confusing days with Simone, it had ended. Kubichek had not been killed by the grenade (of course not, that wasn't how vampires died, they should have known, stupid, stupid) and he had come back for his revenge, taking them by surprise. They had defeated him but it had cost Flynn dearly.
Now Simone is gone (forever) and Flynn is more lost than ever before in his life. He has taken refuge in Simone's old hideout, living off the remaining blood bags and postponing finding another place to live that isn't full of painful memories. He has secluded himself in here and here he will stay.
Alone.
He can't go back to the Library, he knows he can't. He turned his back on it and maybe he deserves the earth-shattering loss and loneliness of his rash decision; he has eternity to brood over that question. Part of him wishes he could see Judson and Charlene, just one last time, but he knows he wouldn't be able to face them after letting them down like he did. Sometimes he feels like he's catching Judson out of the corner of his eye, in a mirror, a movement of a reflection that can't be Flynn's, but when he looks there's nothing.
Flynn spends the days reading. About vampires, mostly, trying to catch up on his new existence. Most of the nights he spends reading, too, and really, if it were up to him he would never leave the apartment. But spending all his time reading also means he has to go out from time to time to find new material. Tonight is one of these nights and he already regrets it.
They're werewolves, he's pretty sure. It's like his gift to read people has been transferred to the supernatural and he can sense what these creatures are, can see it in their movements, feel it in the air, he just knows. They haven't changed form, only partially, their eyes gleaming in the moonlight, feral and dangerous and... mean. They have circled someone and Flynn can tell that this someone is a werewolf, too. A werewolf that the others don't seem to like for some reason. At all.
Flynn knows bullies when he sees them. They take their time, circling their victim, sometimes attacking for a punch or a scratch or a bite. Flynn pulls a face as he watches from the shadows of the trees before turning his back on the scene. Whatever. This is stupid. It's not his problem. He will seek out the trader he is supposed to meet for a stack of rare books, go home and hate life. Or unlife. Whatever he is supposed to call himself these days. 'Idiot', maybe. Yes, he thinks he'll go with that.
Flynn doesn't get involved, not anymore.
He makes it two steps back into the underwood, trying to ignore the snarling and growling, before he slows and stops. He closes his eyes, exhaling sharply at the sudden fear of a decision already made, before he turns and, with a gust of a dramatic whoosh ports himself forward and onto the clearing. He miscalculates and stumbles on a stone but thankfully for him the werewolves are too busy with their prey to notice his little mishap.
Or... anything about his dramatic entry really as nobody has even noticed him appear. Well, that was a colossal waste of time and energy? The old-fashioned way then.
"Hey! Leave him alone!"
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"Gnarly. I hope you got it on video." Because that would also be cool. Peter sounds almost excited about it.
"You're new too? Man. Does the creepy critter community need to fulfill its monthly quotas or something? And yeah, guides would have been awesome. Or a guide. Anything. The wolf that turned me ran off. Probably didn't even realize what he or she did."
A pause. "You can't drink animal blood? Does that include--" He points to himself. Not entirely all animal, but he could breathe easier if he knew he wasn't about to get jumped by this perfectly nice dead guy.
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Flynn chose this – regrets it terribly, now that it all went wrong, true, but it wasn't an attack, it was a turning that happened consensually. On top of that he already had insight into this world; the world of magic and artifacts, the world of there being more than meets the eye. And he knows where to get information, where to look. To be attacked and mauled, only to be flung into this world all on your own must be so confusing and horrible.
"I don't know. Probably?" He frowns, suddenly reminded of the fears he must elicit in others. "Hey, I'm not going to bite you. I don't bite people."
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It wasn't fine. Not by a long shot. There's a crack in his easy-going smile, something haunted in his eyes. He was terrified, he's been terrified for a few weeks now and it wasn't letting up. Flynn was right, he's been struggling ever since it happened. Not even his sad childhood and rough upbringing could have prepared him for the level of horror he's experiencing.
Probably was hopeful, at least. Peter frowns. "Wait, you don't bite people? Isn't that a vampire's whole thing? How do you eat? Steal from hospitals?"
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"Yes. No. Maybe? I don't, I haven't figured that out yet. I have a stash of blood bags, they're gonna last for a while."
He should just leave it at that. The guy is okay. Okay, maybe he is so not okay but he is fine. The wolves are gone. Peter needs to learn the ropes somehow but hey, don't we all. Flynn doesn't get involved.
Only there seems to be a disconnect between his mouth and his brain because suddenly there is voice piping up that sounds way too much like his own. "Look, I... I probably have some ice and band-aids somewhere around my place, do you want to..."
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His eyes widen in surprise. He looks down for a second. He really shouldn't. The dude could be setting him up. He smelled like danger. His instincts were telling him to be careful, to not trust him.
But what was the point of luring him away when he could just attack him here and now?
"...okay. Yeah, dude, I mean...that'd be great," he's just as surprised when he answers back.
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She did it for 400 years. Surely Flynn can figure out a way to do the same.
"Okay. It's not far from here, I have a place back in the city." It's not exactly his place and he feels a twang of guilt calling it such but part of him knows Simone wouldn't mind. Would want him to have a place, actually, to stay safe and hidden during the day.
Flynn makes an awkward hand gesture because he doesn't know what else to add and when Peter seems to have the same problem he just starts walking ahead to lead the way.
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Peter has to admit that the answer, if true, is pretty relieving. It's enough to allow him to let down his guard a tiny bit. Though his instincts were still refusing to listen to his brain. Stupid wolf-self, shut up and get in line.
"I'm just passin' through myself. All I got is my bike, but that's all I need."
Living in crummy motels wasn't ideal, but he didn't want to settle down. Especially after the rap sheet behind his name. And he made his way by stealing stuff, so there was that, too. And he'd been stuck here since it happened, but he hasn't found any answers yet. Except maybe today.
He awkwardly walks alongside, normally he's pretty chill but he can't let go of the edge. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and after an equally awkward silence, he pipes up.
"Do you know anything about werewolves?" It's almost sheepish. But curiously, the gold in his eyes has faded and they've gone back to their normal shade.
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Flynn can sense Peter's apprehension, the way the beast inside the man snarls at his presence but it would be hypocritical to be insulted by it. Instead, he tries to find the same amused mildness that Simone had regarded him with, back then, when he had still been human. It's surprisingly difficult and Flynn wonders how she did it. And if, underneath the faint ironic and humorous approach to his fear, his actions had actually hurt her. He hopes not; he wishes he could ask and apologize.
"I know a little bit. I have a lot of books that I use for research? The golden eyes are actually really helpful to narrow it down, I guess if you told me more about yourself I could have a look. See if I find something that could help you."
Right. Looks like maybe he'll get a little involved after all. Old habits die hard, apparently even when you're already dead.
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An offer of help? This is more than he'd expected. His gait gets slightly bouncy as his voice can't hold back his excitement. "Seriously, that would be so awesome of you, you have no idea how unhelpful movies have been. Which is like, wrong, right? Movies, unhelpful? Psh. But I sound like a loser movie critic when I complain how inaccurate so many movies about werewolves have been and I just--I need to know the real deal." A pause after that rant. "Golden eyes? Did...did my eyes turn golden again?"
But he nodded eagerly. He doesn't mind telling Flynn about his past, or how he lived if it came up, dude was a vampire, he doubted he'd care or judge. "Sure! I still haven't actually seen what I look like as a wolf, I tried to set up a camera on the second night I changed but I chewed up the phone. I found some fur in my stuff, though. Uhhh...where to start? After I got bit, I don't really remember the next couple of days afterwards, I was so sick. I ended up in my motel room and when I finally snapped out of it a couple days later, all the weirdness started happening. And like, at this point I wasn't sure if it was a bigass coyote or dog that got me."
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Flynn listens and he can feel his resolve weaken further in the wake of sympathy. That sounds like the worst possible way to turn. "And a couple of days incubation period, alright. That's another clue that might help getting us on the right track. It might take me a while, though, these books don't really come with an index."
Keeping a lookout for more unwanted attackers he leads them back into the city and to his – Simone's – apartment. He's even attentive enough to buy some take-out for Peter along the way. His fridge isn't exactly well-stocked these days, even though he does enjoy to nibble on some real food now and then.
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"Gross. That makes it sound like a disease. Which it probably is," a grumble.
Peter's stomach is growling just as much as his wolf side when he enters the place. It's super thoughtful of Flynn. But all thoughts of food disappeared when he entered. It smelled like vampire, if that's what that scent that set him off was, and his instincts were going absolutely haywire when he entered. It's a nice place, really, but he's frozen only a few steps into the apartment, his eyes turning gold again.
Den. Enemy. Danger. Trap.
No, this was stupid.
One foot in front of the other. He was certain by now this wasn't a trap--he'd be dead or captured already.
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Entering the apartment Flynn drops the take-out on the table. "I'll go see if I have some ice for your face there..." he starts, turning around...
... and winces back, drawing in a sharp breath when he stumbles backwards against one of the antique chairs, banging his hip painfully on its edge. "Ooookay. Eyes. You're, uh, you're doing the eye thing? What does that mean, does that mean anything?"
Looks like Peter's not the only one who's nervous here.
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"Eyes?" He frowns, he's concentrating very hard on not bolting or trying to scramble under a table or something. Or worse, attack. He didn't think he would, the instincts were begging him to get out of here. "Sorry, I just--" His voice is a little distorted, there's a gruff texture to his words, a growl in his throat. His teeth felt crowded again, his canines probably lengthened again on both his top and bottom teeth. "It's the scent, it's--there's something telling me it's dangerous. You're dangerous. This place is dangerous."
...except how dangerous can this guy be? He just tripped.
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"It's probably your instincts reacting to, uh... me." Flynn watches him uneasily. "You're not gonna attack me, are you?" Backing off a little, just in case.
"I'm not dangerous." He sounds stunned, almost perplexed by the idea. "I have a freezer full of blood bags like the world's most ridiculous Capri Sun collection. I don't even want to be a vampire."
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"You smell dangerous. This place smells like a death-trap." He squints, and then rubs his face. Calm the hell down, Peter, he chastised himself. The dude was only trying to help. He takes a couple of deep breaths, before he can feel his instincts settle. The longer he's here without being attacked, the less of an effect they had on him. Clearly he was safe.
"I'm sorry, man. No, I'm not gonna attack you," he rubs his eyes again as if that would help, but they remain gold, as he's still slightly on edge. "How'd you become a vampire, anyway?" His tone is sympathetic, considering what he's been through himself.
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That would be so embarrassing. Like going to class and not noticing the sweat stains under your armpits until someone points them out.
But it's a relief when Peter tells him he won't attack. He just hopes the wolf will agree with him. "It's a long story. Bottom line? I was stupid. And in love." Going through the freezer he comes up with several ice packs that he puts on the table next to the food. "Thought I was alone – I wasn't. Thought I was unhappy with my life – turns out I wasn't either. But it took me to become this to realize it and now, well, now it's too late."
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"It's kind of hard to explain, it's more the feeling associated with the smell than the smell itself. No, you don't smell rotten. It's just--it's sort of a wrongness, to it? Maybe it's a rival predator thing?"
He rifles through the plastic and paper of the takeaway, taking out containers, before gratefully takes an ice pack. "Thanks, man." He lifts one up before slapping it to his face and gritting his teeth with a hiss of pain. Stupid wolves. What jerks. He's still holding it to his face as he turns towards Flynn with an understanding nod.
"Ah. I gotcha. You thought you were gonna live forever with someone. I mean, if vampires actually do live forever and it's not just a legend."
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He moves to sit with Peter, poking at one of the containers. Should he eat with him? He's not in the mood but maybe it would be rude not to.
"Yeah, we do. Or at least for a very, very long time. Centuries." Flynn flops down on the chair with a soft, unhappy sigh. "She tried to warn me, you know? Convince me that it was a bad idea. But I didn't listen. Thought I was right, as usual. I was very used to being right all the time."
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Peter looks over at Flynn, and pokes one of the containers in his direction. "Can vampires eat regular food? Come on and dig in, man. Thanks again for this, by the way. S'real nice of you." He's just going to...tear open a container and dig in himself like a feral animal. But he does go for the meat first, his appetite has increased greatly and was near-ravenous as the full moon approached. It worries him, a super hungry wolf is a bad idea.
"So..." he mumbles through a mouthful of food. He wipes his face with the back of a hand. "So you're kinda stuck like this forever?"
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At Peter's insisting Flynn takes the container after all, picking up a plastic fork and poking the food some more. But there is something nice about eating in company so he eventually shoves a bite into his mouth. "I can eat, yeah. I don't have to? I don't get hungry so it's more of an indulging kind of thing. It still tastes good but you wouldn't believe how much less satisfactory that is when it doesn't also satiate you or give you energy."
Moving on to the more loaded question. Coming to think of it, this conversation progresses awfully quick into the personal territory. But strangely enough, Flynn doesn't mind; it feels good to finally be able to talk with someone about all this.
"I am. Well, unless someone cuts off my head or I decide to end my own life but I'm way too much of a coward for that."
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There's a pause. He suddenly looks extremely thoughtful.
"Do you still poop?"
Sorry, Flynn, he's...like this.
His brows furrow as he digs through his food. "But...you can see so much. Flying cars. Space travel. Oh man, I've always wanted to go into space. Be an astronaut or something. I don't know, you sound pretty lucky. Besides the whole being dead thing."
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Flynn gives him a pointed look. "No. And don't ask me where the food goes because I don't know. Maybe I have super acid in my stomach."
As if to put emphasis he pokes the fork back into the food. "I guess. And I finally have the time to learn everything that I wanted to learn. There is just so much out there, you know?" He props his chin up on his hand. "But it's also very lonely. I can only go out at night. And I don't even like the dark? And all the other vampires I met so far were... well. I don't want to sound judgmental but... jerks?"
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That just makes him even more curious. "You mean it doesn't go anywhere?! That's so weird. I mean, acid makes just as much sense as anything." He can't even imagine what it's like not to go poop so he sits there a moment, eating thoughtfully.
"You'll be so smart. Like the smartest, super-est genius if you learn all the things there are to learn over a bazillion years," he sounds fascinated. But he looks concerned at the next part. "I forgot about the...you seriously can't be in the sun? Don't you miss it?" It does sound terribly lonely. "Well, if they act like anything the way you guys smell like, then s'yeah. Not surprised."
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"I knew someone like that. He was really old and very wise but I never had a chance to ask him about it. Never realized how smart he must have been or just how much he must have seen."
Another sigh. "Yeah, I miss it a lot. Actually I was surprised just how much I missed it. I was always kind of like... a stay-at-home and read kind of guy. But once you can't actually experience it anymore you realize just how much you liked it after all?"
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"It's kinda exciting, if you think about it. Maybe you can find your guy, again. At least you won't be alone?" It was just a thought. If someone was old and wise they'd probably be nice.
"Dude. I can't imagine..." he sits back, licking the sauce off a thumb. Bad manners, not because of any canine tendencies. "I can't even imagine what it must be like to just...not see the sun ever. For millions of years."
He's quiet a moment.
"This whole supernatural critter thing isn't fair to any of us."
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cw blood/gore
cw blood/gore
cw blood/gore
cw blood/gore
cw blood/gore/cannibalism-ish? Do werewolves count as cannibals?
cw blood/gore/werewolves... eating people idk what does that make vampires, liquid diet cannibals?
Re: cw blood/gore/werewolves ...specialized cannibals?
cw blood/gore/werewolves ...specialized cannibals.
cw blood/gore/werewolves \o/
cw blood/gore/vampires \o/
cw blood/gore
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