Entry tags:
[PSL] You put that urban fantasy right back where you found it (for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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!"
no subject
"Sometimes. I try not to get involved, but..." But that's actually a lie. "When I see something I try to help."
You know. Like yesterday. "It's just, you know. The right thing to do."
no subject
"You were really great out there, I mean...thanks." A half-grin. "I could have taken them myself, but y'know. Didn't want to hurt them or anything."
no subject
He pauses. "I'd say I take it to the grave, but... see what I did there?"
Fingerguns? Fingerguns!
no subject
Total fingerguns, bro! That gets a very loud laugh from Peter. He can appreciate the dead guy jokes!
"Watch out, you're kinda deadly with that sense of humor."
Please stop him before this gets worse, Flynn.
no subject
Sorry, Peter but Flynn just laughs out loud at that. "Okay, that was howl-arious. Guess you found my funny bone."
Stop.