paradisalost | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Brock and Maladict
What: Utterly failing to find Joshua and being assaulted by fairies.
When: December 5th
Where: Out in the Paradisan wilderness, on the powered side.
Rating: Proobably no more than PG-13.

They'd been out for a couple of days now, trying to find a trail that wasn't even there. Still, it was better than sitting around waiting for someone in Peace Patrol to maybe possibly decide to do something about Joshua's escape. And really, Brock wasn't all that bad company to drag around on a search, Mal decided. He was significantly less irritating than most of the other residents.

But then the snow came, and following the trail became near impossible. Plus, in her limited experience of such things, she knew humans weren't all that great in cold weather. They were squishy and prone to hypothermia, and she was certain Brock would bitch all the way back to the castle if he started losing extremities. The vampire sighed, looking up at the sky, watching the flakes drift down.

"I doubt we're going to get anywhere now. Might was well call it a bad job and go back."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah, that's right! Brock is the best not-completely-terrible, less-irritating-comparatively company you could hope for, Maladict. One of his many talents.

Another of these talents, as it so happens, is his ability to dress like a moron despite the obvious signs that winter was coming. Crazy Paradisa Winter, of course, means sudden snow and chill and all those things that squishy, hypothermia-prone humans Do Not Do Well with. And Brock is dressed in a denim jacket? Because he's a moron? A moron whose fashion sense still thinks he's in 1994, that kind of moron. But a moron nonetheless. Let me continue to stress how dumb Brock is.

Regardless of his incredible stupidity, or perhaps because of it, he spends a moment glaring up at the sky too.

"Goddammit. You're probably right," he said, then sighed, shifting the pack that was slung over his shoulder. "Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll freeze to death."

...Gods, Brock, that's a whole new level of stupid. How you're not dead a hundred times already she'll never know. She rolled her eyes, taking of the cape around his shoulder and depositing it on his head. There, an extra layer.

"He's probably holed up in a cave or something, so I doubt we'll catch that break, but it's nice to dream," she started back in the general direction of the castle. "Come on, maybe we'll get back before anything weird happens."

He is incredibly durable, that's why! One day he'll tell you how he survived in the vacuum of space, though that might not mean anything to her. Huh.

Brock just snorted and took the cape down to wear it normally, fastening it at his throat. "Maybe he'll get eaten by a bear or something," he replied, turning to follow her. Stay positive, Brock, that's the spirit!

"The leaves are all gone. That's weird thing number one already."

He might as well start talking about the cat in the hat, for all the sense vacuums would make to her.

"Do we even have bears here? I can't remember seeing any," oh how she had clearly missed Molotov's little project.

She chuckled, reaching down to pick up a handful of snow, scrutinising it before dropping it to the ground again.

"Well, you know Paradisa, its seasons change faster than you can blink."

'Do they have bears here'; Oh Maladict, you don't even know. Brock sighed, rolling his eyes up to the sky. "Yeah ... apparently."

He just sort of eyed her as she messed around with the snow over there. Don't touch that, it could be full of stupid magic bullshit! You never know.

"Sure," he said, lighting up a cigarette as they walked, "and a lot of dumb stuff can happen before you know it, too."

Probably best she never finds out about the bears. It can't end well. She reached over to steal a cigarette from him, because come on dude share.

"Especially this time of year. Remind me to set fire to all the decorations when we get back," she scoffed. "I don't even celebrate the damned holiday and I have to suffer through it."

What, do vampires hate bears or something? Because Brock hates when people bum his cigarettes! Wow, rude, Mal. He just rolls his eyes and lights another one.

"Yeah, you celebrate Hog ... something, right? I remember there are hogs," he said, demonstrating his tremendous cultural sensitivity.

Not at all, but she doubts they'll be all that SAFE what with the idiots who live in the castle and all. And deal with it, it's her ciggie now. She took a deep drag, before nodding.

"Hogswatch. And yes, there are, they pull the Hogfather's sleigh," she gave him a sideways glance. "You remembered more than I thought you would. I honestly expected you to think I celebrated Christmas again."

Oh gosh, that was Brock's concern about the bears, too! Truly they are the bestest of best friends, on the same wavelength and everything. Brock smoked as they walked too, shrugging in response to her little comment.

"I'm sharper than I look, what can I say," he said a little wryly. "They don't give just any idiot off the street a License to Kill, you know."

She chuckled blowing a ring of smoke into the cold air.

"Oh, if only that were true where I come fro...," he paused, squinting at something...floating in the near distance. "Brock, please tell me you can see the glowy floaty things too."

After all seeing things was never a good sign for her.

That ... was not the sort of question Brock ever wanted to hear from Maladict. Particularly when they were out in the middle of nowhere. Because middles-of-nowhere tended to have a distinct lack of coffee pots to use as projectiles, you see.

He stopped walking to look where she was indicating, squinting as well.

"Yeah ..."

Well, on the one hand at least she wasn't hallucinating. On the other, glowy floaty things usually weren't good. Particularly in Paradisa.

She was glad he could see them too. Really glad. Trying to eat him once was one too many times as it was.

"...What the heck are they?" she frowned. "Other than trouble, obviously."

He could always try to actually you know what I'm not even going to touch that one. Too easy.

Brock continued to squint, also frowning. "Fireflies would die in this kind of weather," he said slowly. "They're not like ... pixies or something, are they? Fairies?"

He looked sidelong at Maladict at that, because obviously she should know this sort of thing. She was a vampire, don't all supernatural creatures instinctively know about each other?

Good to take the high road after all.

Maladict turned to give him a pointed glare.

"Why are you asking me? Why would I...know," then she blinked.

Okay that's weird when did he get so handsome?

Brock is always handsome, that's when! Maladict is usually pretty attractive too, in that weird androgynous early David Bowie kind of way, but the way she's glaring at him makes her ... super hot? Or something? What is going on here, what is happen.

Brock blinked too. "Because, uh."

And then he stopped talking because what are words.

Useless, that's what words are, particularly in a situation like this. So Brock continued to not talk, and instead leaned down to press his mouth against Maladict's, holding the back of her head. Brock, this didn't turn out well the last time, what are you doing.

If only she knew who David Bowie was. Brock would probably never make it out of the wilderness if he voiced THAT thought.

Still, the time for words is certainly gone. She returns the kiss (which is always a bit of an awkward affair for someone with very large and sharp canines) wrapping her arms around him. There is no way this can end well.

Well, he and David Bowie hate each other, so ... it's not quite an insult? A weird compliment, to be sure. But he wasn't going to be voicing much of anything, really -- too busy kissin' on a vampire mouth right now, thank you!

Speaking of vampire mouths, this could actually end in a particularly horrible way, as Brock tended to be somewhat enthusiastic in his kissing. Case in point, he started using his tongue, and dear god Brock try not to cut yourself on her teeth please. Nobody wants that. Nobody.

No, let's not have a situation where the recovering vampire gets blood in her mouth. That would end horrifically. And it would all be Brock's fault.

Still, she seems content to return that, her own tongue slipping against his as she tugs him closer with her freakishly strong for her size arms.

That would be par for the course, anyway. Everything is always Brock's fault! He will get blamed for this, somehow. Just you wait.

Ha ha, whoa Maladict, settle down, that's too weird. Brock was used to kissing normal ladies, ladies that aren't stronger than him, which is not that difficult a feat since Brock had the whole professional wrestler's physique thing going for him. I mean he's crazy muscular, that's what I'm getting at.

But alas, the compromises one must make when kissing freaky vampire chicks.

So, what if Brock just started nudging her toward that tree over there, what if he decided that was a good idea? Maybe if he's got her leaned against something, she won't rip anything out of its socket.

Edited 2011-12-13 05:56 (UTC)

That would be a very wise survival move, Brock. It might give you a few seconds to start running. Avoid any horrible head trauma or such.

But ti seems the fairies are growing bored and fluttering away, so this fun won't be lasting much longer, nope.

But ... kissing is great ...

It's not so great when Brock slowly started coming to the realization that something was off, though. Something was just weird, and not ... right ... about ...

Oh.

He abruptly let go of her and backed up about a yard, taking extra care to get out of arm's reach.

"Sorry."

Now, to murder Brock or not to murder Brock?

Pro - he'd just kissed her.

Con - he is pretty much her best friend here and it was probably the castle doing stupid things.

Pro - he'd kissed her.

She huffed, looking up at the sky to the departing fairies.

"I really bloody hate holidays in this place."

Con - he was a really good kisser? Come on! That's got to count for something.

But Brock wasn't about to say this, since she seemed to be ... not murderous. Which was a definite plus, you see, as Brock quite enjoyed being among the living.

He followed her gaze, expression flat. "Yeah, no kidding," he said, and fished around for another couple of cigarettes. Lighting them both, he casually handed one over to Maladict. Nothing happened, this is normal!

Well, there was that too, but she didn't want to say that out loud. Tesla would sulk. She took the cigarette, quite content with never speaking of this again.

"They've probably hit the castle by now, poor bastards."

Let Tesla sulk! Let him sulk himself to death, no I'm just kidding, I don't think that's actually a thing that can happen. Brock still hates Tesla, though. Hates him so much.

Anyway, yes, not speaking of this ever again seems like a good idea. Brock still keeps his distance from her, though. You know, subtly. "You got any plans how to ride this bullshit out? Maybe we should start preparing safe rooms," he said.

You boys and your INTENSE HATRED.

That is a wise move Brock. Maladict shrugs.

"I don't know, I guess. Until the castle forces us out with whatever stupid bloody thing it has planned this year. You know how annoying it is to be forced into a holiday you don't celebrate? A lot."

It's what separates the men from the boys! Or the men from the women who sometimes pretend they are men, I guess in this case. Details.

Brock chuckled, and moved to place a friendly hand on Maladict's shoulder, but then ... thought better of it and just rubbed the back of his neck instead.

"Yeah, well. Look at it this way -- with the way this place operates, I'm sure someday it'll make us celebrate Hogswatch. Pigs everywhere ... whatever else happens on Hogswatch."

Important details! But hey, the not touching thing is good, that means she doesn't have to punch him.

"Not likely. It resolutely sticks to the Earth holidays. I'll just have to learn to live without," she pauses. "Doesn't stop me from celebrating Hogswatch by myself anyway. Pathetic as it is."

It's a Christmas miracle, Brock not getting punched ...

"Seems like it goes by majority," he said slowly, agreeing. Most people in Paradisa seemed to be from Earth, anyway. Maybe not the same Earth, but Earth nonetheless. "Well -- how do you celebrate it?"

The vampire sighed, beginning to walk back towards the tower, boots crunching in the snow.

"Give people their gifts on Hogswatch...or as close as I can get. It doesn't make it easier living in a place with less months than I'm used to," he glanced upwards, "Then there's just...general holiday stuff. Until I get depressed about doing it by myself and just drink coffee for the rest of the night. Kind of pathetic, really."

Brock listened, scratching his chin a little in thought as he followed her.

"You could probably get some people to celebrate with you," he said. "Like ... you know, whoever. Tesla or whoever else." He certainly wasn't suggesting that Brock himself would do it or anything, of course not! No, I'm lying, that's completely what he is suggesting. Because Brock is a big soft-hearted gentleman.

The smallest of smirks crossed her face. Oh she already got that, only too well, but instead of damaging his manly ego, she decided to slide right past the 'do YOU want to come too?' part of the conversation. Because she's a bro like that.

"I don't know, can you two be in the same room together for longer than five minutes without trying to murder one another?"

Maladict you are a true bro. Brock silently appreciated her discretion! He will slide right past thanking her though, because that would defeat the whole purpose.

"Maybe," he said, rolling his eyes upward to look at the sky as they walked. "It can be a Hogswatch miracle."

The vampire snorted.

"I think it would take a lot of Gods to make that happen," she paused. "Maybe I can get you both to at least sit quietly for five minutes."

Edited 2011-12-20 20:40 (UTC)

Brock wasn't totally keen on it being insinuated he is a child, but he just rolled his eyes again in response.

"Yeah, just make sure he stays out of my face and we should be alright," he said, though this was probably not 100% true.

"I still don't get what it is with you two," Maladict sighed. "You are aware you're both giving me a bloody big headache by being at each other's throats all the time? You're going to have to get used to each other eventually."

"Guy's an ass," Brock replied immediately, shrugging.

After another second, he looked sidelong at Maladict, squinting suspiciously. "Wait, get used to each other why ..."

"Yeah, I'll give you that much."

Ugh. She knew she'd have to come to this eventually, after all, she didn't quite feel like sneaking around and Brock wasn't completely oblivious to things. Still, she tried to make this as less of a big deal as possible by giving an idle shrug.

"Oh you know, with me and him having a thing now."

Brock was, perhaps predictably, quiet for a sizable stretch of time after Maladict said that. Not that he was in horrible shock!!! or anything, but it was a little surprising. And he was having trouble actually piecing together what she'd said; Brock Samson was not all that great at personal relationships.

But he finally got it, finally, and just kept looking straight ahead, fighting the urge to gawk at her. "Uh. Since when?"

She walked on in silence, letting him figure it out for himself. Let him feel he'd accomplished some brainpower and all that. Generous of her, really.

"Oh, a couple of months. Right before he went back into jail again."

So generous, it's true. What a lovely vampire woman thing.

Brock continued to do this thing where he pretended he didn't utterly overlook what should have probably been glaringly obvious, particularly because he was so close to Maladict. And how they'd acted in the prison together ...

"Right, right," he said a little dismissively, like he'd just forgotten or something. "Of course."

Maladict gave a thoughtful humm.

"If you like, I won't tell him I had to point this out to you," she offered. "He can be an arrogant bastard and I don't think he needs much amo to use against you. You can pretend you knew this whole time."

Brock rolled his eyes, scoffing. "What -- 'pretend'? Of course I know. Obvious."

This is Brock Samson-speak for 'yes please and thank you.'

Maladict flashed him a fanged smirk.

"You're welcome~"

Brock just smirked at her sidelong, rolling his eyes a little, and continued on toward the castle. Vampires, man.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only