#forfuchssake | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

Text

Hell’s Bells || Oscar and Kaden

TIMING: Before dinner with Regan and the scream LOCATION: The Silver Bullet PARTIES: @forfuchssake and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Just a normal night at the Bullet with some friends

It’d been entirely too long since he’d gotten to spend some good old fashioned quality time with his nephew and Oscar was more than ready for Kaden to show him this hunter bar. There was something to be said about the sense of community and comradery that all hunters seemed to share. It didn’t matter if it was a warden, slayer, or a fellow beast hunter-- that connection stood. They all had a duty to protect people and it was something that bonded them all together. As usual, he donned his favorite leather jacket for a night in the bar. When he picked Kaden up, he gave his arm a playful nudge and joked, “You excited to show an old man hunter like me all the good haunts?” He followed Kaden into the bar and instantly became engulfed in the energy. The buzz of chatter in the air and the stories he could pick up if he concentrated was contagious. They ordered a round of beers from the bar and he asked, “See anyone you know around tonight?”

“So long as you don’t embarrass me, old man,” Kaden said with a smile, returning the nudge. The Silver Bullet was home away from home. At least that’s what he kept telling himself it was. Somehow the more he went, the less that seemed to be true. Still, he was hoping that having Oscar with him would make it feel a little more like home again. Or a lot, depending. “Hey, Sam,” he said with a wave as they walked in and headed to the bar. As they took their beers, Kaden glanced around. “I know most of the regulars here,” he said. Then again, maybe he spoke too soon. “Or I did.” Admittedly he didn’t swing by as often; he found himself spending time with Regan more often than not. Shit, did he recognize anyone here other than Sam? His heart sunk a moment and then his eyes locked in on a table with some familiar faces. “There,” he said with a nod and led them over. Kaden greeted the table as they got there. “Devin, Mads, Kyle, this is my uncle Oscar,” he told them, introducing the hunters sitting at the table to his uncle. “It’s a whole ass family reunion tonight.”

“Me? Embarrass you? When have I ever done anything like that,” Oscar joked with a hearty laugh. The Silver Bullet was just the vibe he was looking for. Meeting new hunters had always been one of the fun parts of the job. Not many could relate to the challenges they faced on a day to day basis and Oscar could only hope that Kaden was utilizing this community. It was important to have a healthy outlet for this shit and these guys understood. He waved to Sam and ordered his beer. He looked to Kaden who seemed to be looking for familiar faces. “You did? You really are getting domestic on me,” he retorted with a laugh until Kaden pointed out a table. There was a somewhat mousy looking one that Kaden called Devin. He looked really smart and he’d bet anything he was a warden. One had to be good with their words to work with the damn fae. Mads looked tough, but gorgeous. He’d definitely be buying her a drink. Kyle was drinking a Natty Light and Oscar did his best not to judge. “Good to meet everyone,” his eyes landed on Mads, “Especially you.” Everyone gave him a welcoming wave. “So, who here has some fun stories tonight? This town I’m sure there’s some good ones.” Not surprisingly, Kyle was the first one to pip up, “Well, last week I killed an ustra. Tricky bastards those ones,” he exclaimed slamming his can down on the table.

Kaden rolled his eyes at Oscar’s ribbing. “Yeah well, keep it in check if you can stand to, alright? I know it’s going to be a tall order for you.” It was strange how quickly all of his worries about this evening faded away as he saw the group and sat down with his drink in hand. This was fine, normal, even. Well, his version of normal. Certainly not what most people would have considered normal. He let out a small sigh as he took a drink. “Shut it,” he grumbled under his breath. He’d never seen himself as the type to settle into anything, hell he’d always planned to model his life after Oscar’s in a lot of ways. It hadn’t bothered him just how “domestic” his life had become until his uncle decided to point it out. It almost felt like an insult coming from him. And he didn’t even know the half of it. As Oscar flirted with Mads, Kaden rolled his eyes again, but a hint of a smile was still on his face. Of course Oscar zeroed in on Mads. Made sense. And he could sure do worse. “An ustra? Shit, good for you, Kyle. I saw one the other week. It nearly got me. I only got out bec--” The words caught in his throat. He only got out of it because a werewolf helped him. Putain. “You lose the plot, Langley?” Devin asked. “Are you lying to us? Come on, there’s no way you took one by yourself,” he finished with a huff. Kaden wanted to crawl into a hole. He took an awkward sip instead. “Fuck off. I had something caught in my throat. It was definitely an ustra. I got a lucky shot in right at its eye. That was it. How about you fucking let me finish speaking next time, Porter, huh?”

While Oscar was a little put off by Kyle slamming a can down on the table, he was impressed with him taking down an ustra. From what he knew, they were tricky bastards. You had to avoid their venom or you were surely done for. What had surprised him was that Kaden had gotten defensive while speaking of his own ustra encounter. He raised a brow and let him finish. “Glad you’re both alive to tell the tale. I’ve never seen one myself though maybe that’ll change in this crazy town.” He gave Kaden a pat on the back and chuckled, “No need to get defensive, Junge. I’ve seen you take down worse. Devin here’s probably just mad he hasn’t seen one.” Devin seemed to huff something under his breath and Oscar took another swig of his beer. He turned to Mads and gave her a devilish grin. “What about you, Mads? You look like you could kick my ass.” As much was true and damn attractive at that. She smirked and responded, “You’re right, I could kick your ass, but you caught me on a good night so I won’t. What I can’t believe is that these guys over here are bragging about an ustra. That’s child’s play.” She threw back the rest of what looked like whiskey on the rocks before she finished, “Meanwhile, I just took down an asanbosam. Fight an agile tree vampire then we can talk about who the real badass is here, boys.”

Kaden’s first instinct at the word defensive was to bite back, and he nearly did. Until Oscar finished speaking. Right. A bit of a smile crept on his face. Devin seemed less thrilled by the assessment. “That may be true. However, I’ll have you know there’s a banshee in town that I’m working on tracking, I’m sure I’ll have a kill more impressive than your ustra soon enough,” Devin assessed, cleaning his glasses as he waxed on. At the word banshee, the beer he was sipping seemed to aim right for his windpipe and Kaden beat his chest a moment as he tried to get his breath back. Shit, shit, fuck, putain de merde, fucking shit fuck, fuck. “What’s wrong with you, Langley?” Kyle asked. “Nothing, I’m fine,” he sputtered between coughs. Fuck, fuck, he had to focus, think quick. “I was just cracking up at the thought of you bagging a banshee. The fact you even think there’s one in town is fucking laughable. You know how rare those are?” Devin’s feathers looked ruffled and he was practically steaming. “Have you not heard the screams? Seen the broken glass? You have to know as well as I that--” Kyle waved his beer can in Devin’s face to make him stop. “Yeah, yeah, no one cares, dude.” Kaden exhaled, trying not to let it be a full on sigh of relief. His stomach was in knots and they were only a few minutes into the evening. He was going to need a lot of refills tonight, that was for sure. “Asanbosam? Pft, big deal. Took down one of those, too.” If they could just stick to the undead, that’d be great. “I mean, alright, a witch helped a little but only after I saved her life. Let me know when you go up against a vrykolakas. Then I might be impressed.”

When Devin mentioned tracking a banshee, it came as no surprise to Oscar he was a warden. While he respected the crap out of what they did and what they went up against, he much preferred his life as a beast hunter. Not nearly as much wit and watching your words required. “A banshee? Can’t say I’ve heard of one this side of the Atlantic, but the death rate in this town is probably appealing to them,” Oscar mused though he was taken aback by Kaden sputtering on his drink. Had he missed something funny there? There was a certain tension to Kaden still that he couldn’t quite place. He gave him a few good pats on the back and pressed, “It’s not far fetched, I mean hell, we saw a bies on my first night in town. If there is a banshee in town, I’m sure we’ll all hear it soon enough.” Especially given they all had more sensitive hearing than most. There must have been some sort of weird rivalry going on between Kaden and Devin that he wasn’t all that interested in entertaining. Kaden was better than that. Thankfully, with Kyle’s influence, Devin seemed to be dropping it. He couldn’t help but laugh at everyone one upping each other. He gave Kaden a joking nudge. “Nice job taking down an asanbosam… though I will say I’m sure Mads looked way better while doing it.” He gave Mads a sly wink to which she responded with a coy grin. “Vrykolakas are rough, too. Haven’t worked with too many spellcasters, but a slayer back in Prague helped me out with a pricolici. Worst of both worlds, those arschlochs.”

Kyle muttered something about them all sounding like nerds as he slammed his can of shitty American beer down on the table. Oscar rolled his eyes, had to love the younger generation. “You’re not going to make it long with that kind of attitude. Different monsters require different weapons and fighting tactics. It’s one thing to enjoy the fight, it’s another to be stupid.”

“Sure is,” Kaden mumbled into his beer. Hell the death rate was half the reason why Regan was employed in the town. Funny enough. If he left to go to the restroom to go vomit,would anyone notice? “Yeah but bies can’t get on a plane and fly across the ocean. Just because you think you heard a barn owl once doesn’t mean it was a banshee or that she-- it’d even still be in town, putain.” Still Oscar’s last comment churned a pit in his stomach. Of course they’d hear it. They all would. When she screamed for someone’s death, half the town could hear it. It was a wonder she hadn’t come across a warden yet. For a brief moment Kaden’s eyes caught Devin’s and he wondered if he would be willing to kill the other man for Regan’s sake. He looked away just as quick. Vomiting in the restroom was feeling more like a necessity. No, he wouldn’t be willing to take someone’s life, especially not another hunter’s. Right? The beer in front of him was starting to look like an enemy to the knots in his stomach. Focusing on whatever was going on between Mads and Oscar seemed less upsetting, surprisingly, he turned his focus there, away from Devin. “Well we know she looks better than you, so not surprising” he said with his own half smile. He had little doubt they’d be leaving without him by the end of the night. Fine by him. Oscar deserved some fun. He was always good at finding it. I would be nice if Kaden could remember how to have fun right about now but the thought of pricolici just flashed a vision of Montgomery’s trophy room in front of his eyes. Shit, why was he so fucking off tonight?

“Don’t worry, Kyle can be our cannon fodder. That is what he was trained for, right?” Kaden ribbed. Kyle didn’t seem to know what that meant but he did know it was an insult. “Man, shut up Langley. No one cares about your fancy lineage, dude.” Kaden went to roll his eyes but as much as he was joking, he really didn’t enjoy seeing more dead hunters. “Calm down. I didn’t say shit about that, you did, But seriously, if you want any help or tips let me know. No bullshit.”

There was clearly some sort of rivalry between Devin and Kaden that Oscar wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to understand. A banshee being in town really wasn’t all that far-fetched. Considering the death rate, it’d be the perfect spot for one to call home and there would probably be lots of screams. It was only a matter of time before one revealed itself if there was a banshee here. He took a chug of his beer and shrugged off the whole debate, “Sure, they can travel. Time will surely tell.” Hopefully, not paying too much mind to Devin would help shake off whatever tension was there. He’d have to ask about that later though he figured that’d be a message. By all indication, Mads seemed interested in him and he had no intention of wasting that momentum. He laughed and agreed, “Damn right, she does. Though that could be said of her versus anyone in this bar. Maybe she’ll still give an old man like me a fighting chance.” Her smirk told him everything he needed to know though her response let him know she wasn’t going to make it easy. “I’d consider it, though I do think you should at least buy a girl a drink first. I may be able to kick your ass, but I’m still a lady.” With a nod, he answered, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” He turned to Kaden and asked, “Need another beer, Junge?” He looked a bit perplexed to see just how untouched his beer was. “Actually, I’m getting you another one. Don’t let a nice Spatan like that get warm.” He gave Kaden a big pat on the back before he went off to grab another round for himself, Mads, and Kaden. He asked Sam for their drinks and brought them back over to catch the tail end of Kyle and Kaden’s conversation. “Seriously, kid, it’s got nothing to do with clout. In a town like this, you gotta know what you’re up against. No one wants to see your obituary in the paper.”

Kaden knew it was only a matter of time until a warden ran into Regan if they weren’t already hunting her but he still hoped time wouldn’t tell, that she could be spared that part of supernatural life. Anyway, it was fun to see Mads giving Oscar a hard time. And nice to not have to worry about his own bullshit. “Are you suggesting that he’s not a gentleman?” Kaden asked Mads, feigning surprise. “I can assure, this,” he said, gesturing to Oscar, “is a gentleman through and through. He does owe you a drink, though,” he said with a smile. It was easy though to focus on someone other than himself. Plus, the sooner that Oscar left with Mads, the sooner he could head home, maybe stop by and see Regan. Putain, he felt like he became such a stick in the mud. “Oh?” He almost missed that Oscar was talking to him. How he could feel so utterly alone at a bar surrounded by people was a wonder. “Right, sorry. Thanks. Do you need any help getting the--?” Oscar was already gone before Kaden could finish asking. He didn’t need help, anyway, Kaden knew that. He always had things covered. Somehow his uncle always had life figured out. Kaden thought he had his figured out, too. But hey, he could take some comfort in the fact that he had more figured out than Kyle did. “I’m not going to die. I got this covered,” Kyle said before chugging the rest of his beer. “Look, I got this tattoo. It’s for protection. No way am I going to kick the bucket for at least five years.” Kaden pinched his nose and shook his head, unable to stifle the laughs at seeing what looked like a generic tribal tattoo on Kyle’s arm. “If you say so, ‘dude.’ Good luck,” Kaden said through laughter. “I hope you didn’t pay too much money for that.”

As Oscar was walking back with all three drinks in tow, he wished he could turn the hunter hearing off from time to time. A protective tattoo? Was this Kyle guy an absolute idiot? It’d be a miracle if he made it five more days let alone five more years. It sounded like there was no talking sense into that thick skull of his, so he opted to not push it any further. He was much more taken with Mads anyway. If Kyle wanted to be a dumbass, that was his prerogative. He set Kaden’s and Mads’ drinks down in front of them and shook his head, “Pretty sure you got scammed, Kyle. Don’t let some tattoo make you forget just how dangerous what we do is.” Okay, maybe he hadn’t entirely let that slide. Was he a cocky bastard himself? He sure was, but he knew his shit. There were very few beasts out there that he couldn’t recognize and have some recollection of the best way to kill them. Without that knowledge he’d have been a long ficken time ago. He’d had just about enough of Kyle’s shit and Kaden seemed over it, too. Seeing if Mads wanted to get out of here after they finished this round seemed like the best idea. There was a wry grin on his face as he asked, “So how are my chances looking now that I’ve been a gentleman and brought the prettiest lady in the bar a drink?” Mads rolled her eyes at him playfully and answered, “I decided you were coming home with me when you first joined us.” A woman who could kick his ass and knew what she wanted and went for it. His wicked grin only widened and he placed a hand on her lower back as he slid onto the stool next to her. “I’m sure Kaden here will appreciate not having to chauffeur me back to my hotel. I’d say I’m cramping his style, but that would be a lie.”

Kaden made a mental note to ask Luce if she saw Kyle in the shop and if it was her that pulled a prank on him and robbed him of his money or if that was where she drew the line. It’d be an entertaining conversation either way, he had a feeling that much was true. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand talking to Kyle and he couldn’t bear to be alone with Devin, he was too afraid he’d give himself away. Come on, Oscar, flirt faster. Right on schedule, his uncle practically leaned over and winked at Mads across the table. Very subtle. Still, he was thankful. It was odd watching him flirt with women at a hunter bar meanwhile he wasn’t trying to pick up anyone himself. Hell, he had someone to go home to. So much of it felt wrong but at the same time, he wasn’t really sure he’d trade it. Looking around the bar, the allure, the comfort, it felt hollow. Not completely but it wasn’t what he remembered. But he was happy to see Oscar was having a good time. And was about to have a better one. “You’re right, old man. Some of us have better shit to do at home. And people,” he said with a coy smile. “No offense to you, Mads. You can do better, though.” He downed the rest of his beer and gave Oscar a pat on the shoulder before turning to head out. “Have a good night,” he said and gave a small wave before heading out and going home back to a quiet night at home, something that oddly felt more normal now. Who would have guessed.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #writing #oscar #forfuchssake #hell's bells

10 notes · View notes

chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

Text

Bring on the Night || Alcher, Kaden, & Oscar

TIMING: Current, Full Moon LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @zahneundklauen , @forfuchssake, and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: A good ol’ family reunion on the full moon.

There was no way Kaden was missing this full moon. Two in a row was shameful enough. It should probably have felt familiar, he’d done this for years. Two off shouldn’t have made a big difference. Still, he felt a little out of sorts, almost like he was wearing an old shirt that didn’t quite fit the way he remembered, while he wandered the woods, moon high and bright, weapons polished off and strapped to him. The crossbow and rifles were on his back, pistols at his side, plenty of knives, too. Now all he needed was something to fight. And maybe a little less doubt brewing in him. The forest was entirely too quiet for his liking. There were no signs of werewolves or any monsters for that matter. The tight hold he had on his pistol seemed almost silly. There was nothing there, nothing to fight or keep people safe from. Not out there, not right then. Maybe it was fine if he sat out. It’s not like he was making much of a difference one way or another. He could turn back. Call it a night. Try again next time. Who’d know? His mind flashed to the reports he got about the massacre at a barbecue over the Fourth of July last full moon. No doubt it had been a werewolf. Had his absence cost those people their lives? He couldn’t know. But he wondered all the same. His grip tightened around his gun and he listened closer, past the sounds of crickets and the few owls nearby. There was rustling. He wasn’t alone out there in the woods. No, this was right where he needed to be. He wasn’t going to get distracted or doubt. This was the hunt. It was what he was made for. He wasn’t going to let his inaction cause more deaths. This was his decision. Kaden made sure his gun was loaded and ready, silver bullets, and kept to his path, forging ahead through the trees towards the sound.

The release of the full moon was often a relief on Alcher. Human life was daunting. It tired her in a way she could not fully explain. She’d never quite found the words for it, even after all these years. Maintaining a visage that never felt like home put a strain on her that only this could release. This moment, paws tearing across the ground. Leaves kicking up behind her. Shadows dancing across fur, eyes sharp. Jowls covered in blood, drooling for more. Her slender body slipped between trees and through brush with an almost eerie silence. An advantage to her species that her father had taught her to use well. One she’d honed living with the wolves high in the mountains of Poland. Of course, there was always noise to be heard for those with sharper ears. The tell-tale crunching of leaves, or rustling of bushes. Alcher’s nose was focused on the hunt in front of her. It’d been so long since she’d had a good meal. Her haunches grew stiff, taught, as she slunk through the shadows in pursuit, quieter now. They were clueless to the danger behind them. Sitting alone next to their tent. Gold eyes honed in on them. Just a moment more. When she leapt, there was little sound, that instinct, that bloodlust, driving her forward. Claws connected and jaws came to snap down when a glint caught her eye. The wolf reeled, fire sputtering and cracking in a pit next to her. The smell flooding her memory, warning her: danger. The man screamed. Someone was approaching from behind them. Alcher’s head whipped in their direction, pale moonlight pouring down on the scene as a distantly familiar smell wafted up the hill and up to her. Hunter, the wolf said, teeth bared. Ready to fight.

At the scream, Kaden took off running. It didn’t matter what it was, there was certainly danger and in all likelihood, it was a monster. He pushed past the trees, trying to keep any semblance of stealth that he could, though there wasn’t much left, and felt the chill creep down his spine before he saw what had happened. A wolf. There was no doubt in his mind. Pistol still ready, knives within reach, he peaked past the trees to see a clearing with a vampire. And a werewolf, snarling and savage. Kaden raised his gun, ready to fire when he noticed something else. Something missing. A leg. The wolf only had three legs. Memories flashed through his mind but he could only see red as he looked ahead of him. Kaden screamed as he let loose every fucking bullet in his gun, aimed at the beast who had killed his parents. He didn’t know what had hit in his rage, but it didn’t matter, he was already reaching for his knife with his free hand. He would take down this monster by any means necessary, it was the only thought on his mind as he charged head on at the monster. He’d kill this wolf. Even if it was the last thing he did. It wouldn’t be like last time.

Bullets rained down. Alcher’s instincts kicked into full drive and she darted into the trees, weaving in and out. They connected with the body she’d left behind, with the trees, the dirt. Her shoulder. She yelped, but kept running, sliding around a bush and turning her fangs on the hunter that had interrupted her meal. He was lost in something primal as well, a rage that she knew and understood. In this state, her mind would not make the connection, but the familiar smell blasted through her senses. Something took over her as well, a rage even unknown to the full moon. She barreled directly into the hunter, bullets be damned, and landed hard on top of him, claws digging in. Fierce golden eyes stared directly down into the hunters. You, they said. Recognition present even in this state of disarray. Jaws opened wide to bite down, yearning for blood, for flesh, to finish what had been started so many years ago.

Screams and the sounds of gunfire were music to his ears. Oscar sprinted through the trees, more than ready for a good fight. The time between full moons always seemed to drag on and on this particular moon, he was on unfamiliar terrain. Nothing like a change of scenery to really add some more excitement to the hunt. The probability of running into Kaden was also high this month since he’d made his way to White Crest. He hadn’t had time for a proper greeting, but he knew they’d find each other over the course of the full moon. He weaved through the trees, following the sound of wolf yelps and bullets. His own gun was ready and loaded with silver bullets. As he neared the campsite, he could make out a familiar form. Kaden. Just the hunter he was looking for. What better reunion than killing a werewolf? His pace picked up and the adrenaline was pumping through his veins. The wolf attacking Kaden only pushed him to move faster as he recklessly fired bullets out ahead. At the very least, it would distract the wolf and buy Kaden some precious time. As he neared, what was off about the wolf became more apparent. Three legs. He knew this wolf and it only inspired him to open fire again.

The wolf was fast, faster than most. He’d almost forgotten. Almost. He braced against the beast with his arm as the claws dug deep. Kaden roared out at it as he pushed it away, scrambling for his knife. He kicked his legs out at it and tried to dig the blade into the wound in its shoulder, open it wider, make the pain deeper. As his knife went for the wolf, the wolf's teeth went for him and he felt a chunk ripped out from his arm. He screamed in pain, but still heard the thunder of bullets going off around them. He used the momentary distraction to roll away, cradling his arm in his hand. Fuck that hurt. Kaden looked down to find his knife and saw the other hunter headed his way. “Oscar?” He hadn’t seen his uncle for years now. Was he really here in White Crest without so much as a warning? “What the fuck are you--” Kaden heard the growl of the wolf nearby. Right. No time for a reunion, not now. Time to fight. He pushed past the pain pulsing in his arm and pulled out his other pistol, loaded and ready.

More bullets, more distractions. Alcher felt the fury building in her chest, even as more silver scraped her skin, ruffled her fur. But the taste of a hunter’s blood made her salivate. She swallowed it whole and licked her teeth, turning to go for more. But there was another scent in the air, another hunter. Fists and feet were pounded against her and she reeled back, snarling. She bared her teeth to the two again. Even with all her experience, she understood she was outmatched in this situation. Going up against two hunters wasn’t worth it. But the beast inside of her clawed for something else. For more blood, for more fight. She had no control anymore. Her body moved on its own as the wolf inside and out of her lunged against the two-- only to be interrupted by a loud bleating. A noise the wolf recognized from decades spent living in supernatural forest. In the next moment, the large, hulking creature stormed its way through the bushes, baring down on the three. Alcher’s ear went back, her body pulling into a low, tense stance. A low growl in her throat, blood still dripping from her maw. Waiting to see what move any of the other three would make.

The bullets grazing the wolf had been enough to give Kaden a chance to roll over. Oscar could tell his reflexes were still mostly intact. “Not now, Junge,” he barked as he focused on the werewolf growling in front of them. The monster was bloodthirsty and needed to die once and for all. The advantage was theirs and he intended to take it. With his silver blade in hand, he opened his arms, welcoming the wolf to make her attack. Get her in close range and he’d be able to sink his blade right in. The wolf sprung toward them just as he wanted her to. He was buzzing and the thrill left him ready to spring into action. He raised his knife, ready to engage the wolf before him when he heard it. The sound was animalistic, but definitely not a wolf. His head whipped up though he kept his knife at the ready. A bies-- fuck. The blade was quickly traded for his gun. Bies hated loud noises and it’d still work on the wolf if she decided to try anything funny. He opened fire on the bies, hoping the loud noise would at least get it to stand down. Their playing field would be better if they could get the damn wolf out of the way first.

Kaden was set to fight, ready to square off against the singular wolf he wanted dead most in the world when he heard a bellowing behind him. His head slowly turned towards the sound. Shit. That was a bies. Kaden had no clue which was a bigger threat at the moment. Just because the bies was bigger didn’t mean it was more dangerous, right? He didn’t want to let this wolf get away. Not again. He couldn’t. He kept his gun aimed towards it when the antlers came barreling towards him. Shit. He rolled out of the way, pain searing his arm as he felt dirt and branches dig into the open wound. He hated wasting silver bullets on a fucking bies, but he was left with little choice and started firing at the monster. “Watch out for the eye!” he called out, even though he was pretty fucking sure that Oscar knew what he was doing. It was instinct to warn other hunters, so many of them were so fucking clueless half the time.

An opportunity presented itself. Alcher’s eyes looked between the two hunters, now engaged with the large beast, and her mind, overrun by the moon, had a decision to make. She could run right now. Make a break for it, and get out of this scuffle not much worse for wear, aside from the bullet wounds that would heal. Just more battle scars to add to the pile. Or, she could stay. And she could take this opening to go in for the kill. But it was dangerous, now, even more so. The beast was enraged, angry. They must’ve stumbled into its territory, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she understood that she had been lucky to encounter this beast alone. But would she get a chance like this again? She had to try. The people who destroyed her family might’ve been gone, but they’d left successors. They didn’t deserve this life. And it was with that last primal thought that Alcher bolted forward, ducking under the large swipe of a hooved claw, skidding around, and ramming directly into the felled hunter again. His eyes looked just like his mother’s when she’d ripped out her throat. She wanted to enjoy this. But in the next moment, a paw swiped across the area and Alcher was knocked from his body, claws tearing at more flesh before she was tossed directly into a tree. Sticking in a spot once the branches beneath her stopped snapping. She groaned with effort to escape, tearing at the wood. She was a sitting duck here. The monster turned back to the hunters. Pesky hunters. Her body finally hit the ground with a thud.

Oscar scoffed as Kaden told him to watch out for the eye. Who helped teach him about all these monsters in the first place? Any beast hunter worth their salt had at least read about bies though this was his first face to face encounter. First day in town and he already had a new entry for his personal hunting journals. “You think I don’t know what a bies is,” he called out with a joking edge in his voice, the thrill already winning him over. He kept the booming of his gun going to either wound or scare off the bies. Kaden could handle the three-legged bitch, that much he could trust. The wolf had a lot of fight, but the bies did not discriminate who it would go after. Kaden was getting fairly beat up, but the wolf was off him now. Nothing a little patch up wouldn’t fix. Kid always had been a tough little shit. Booming echoed throughout the forest as he released another clip on the bies, letting out a cathartic yell as he did so. This was the most excitement he’d had in a while. “You got the wolf under control?”

“Yeah, yeah, shut it,” Kaden shouted back. Still a wave of embarrassment washed over him. Of course Oscar knew what the fuck a bies was. He fumbled a little when reloading his gun. Shit, why did he feel like the inexperienced kid again? Oscar definitely had the beast taken care of. For now. But the thing bellowed and charged at them both again. Kaden threw himself out of the way, landing hard on his injured arm. He winced and shut his eyes tight, clenching his jaw hard and trying not to scream out in pain. Pain didn’t matter in a hunt. Not until they were done. For now it was adrenaline to channel, nothing more. Kaden pushed himself up and glanced around for the wolf. It was fallen by a tree. This was his fight to lose now. He ran over, no way was he letting this monster out of his sight. Fate brought them all there that night, he was sure of it. Who was he to deny fate its death? Kaden took his knife in his other hand and ran straight for the fallen wolf. He’d chase it if he had to, if he could. Kaden was about to pounce, drive the blade deep into its fucking heart, but he heard a crunch behind him. He turned and saw Oscar reeling from a hit by the bies. Fuck. Kaden turned and fired his gun at the looming beast, hoping to give the other hunter time. Fuck. He surely let fate slip through his fingers behind him.

Delirious, Alcher blinked against the spinning world. Rubbed her head along the ground, trying to control the wave of dizziness. Shaking her body out, feeling it crack and crunch and burn with silver. The wolf’s eyes came to just in time to watch the hunter charging for her. It braced, but wasn’t needed. The familiar hunter stopped in his tracks and turned his back. This time, the wolf did not hesitate to make its decision. It turned, and ran. The beast that had interrupted them, the other hunter had interrupted them. The night was ruined, her meal was gone, and her bones ached. Anger surged through her enough to get her up and through the woods, disappearing into a bush, down the hill, and off away from the fight. She could still hear the gunshots, the shouting, the angry cries of the beast-- and she did not stop until the noises did. And then, exhausted, she collapsed.

As Oscar caught the wolf running away from the corner of his eye, he grumbled. With the wolf already on the run, there was no way he was about to let a ficken bies get away from them. He loaded another clip into his gun, letting out a cathartic shout as he opened fire on the bies again. This time, Kaden joined him and after a long series of roaring gunfire, the beast fell to the ground. At least part of their hunt had been successful though he noted his nephew was off his game letting the Krieg wolf get away. That was something they could discuss later, for now, he scanned the area. Based on the sound alone, the wolf was long gone. He shook his head and turned to Kaden. He was definitely bloodied and worse for wear. With a sigh, he gestured, “Come on, Junge, you look like shit. Let’s get you patched up and you can fill me in on the happenings in town.”

#chatzy #wickedswriting #writing #bring on the night #alcher #zahneundklauen #oscar #forfuchssake

14 notes · View notes

chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

Text

Blood Ties || Oscar and Kaden

TIMING: Night of the full moon, right after Bring on the Night LOCATION: Woods and Kaden’s apartment PARTIES: @forfuchssake and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Family reunion part 2

Kaden could have kicked himself for letting the wolf get away. But right now all he could concentrate on was the pain. Lots of pain. Once the beast was down he let out a sigh and cradled his arm. Oscar was honestly the last person he expected to see here. And now of all times. “I had it,” he said, practically pouting as he gathered up his weapons while trying to be gentle with his arm. He couldn’t hide his wincing as he re-holstered his gun and sheathed his knife. Somehow he felt like he was fifteen again, still learning, still inexperienced. At least this time he wasn’t left nearly dead when the wolf who killed his fucking parents ran off, still alive. “Thanks for letting me know you were in town, by the fucking way,” he grumbled. It had been what, five, six years since they’d last seen each other? Barcelona if he remembered correctly. He hated looking so fucking incompetant already. Just what he needed to boost his fucking confidence when he was already sure he was a piece of shit hunter. Still, it was good to see him. He was the only real family Kaden had left really. Which is why a fucking heads up might have been nice. Leave it to Oscar to be dramatic.

As much as he hated that the Krieg wolf was still on the loose, Oscar knew they’d find another chance to put her in the ground. Still, he expected better from Kaden. Even as a kid, he’d shown such strong potential, but everyone had their off nights and a bies showing up could really put a dent in their plans. At least the ficken bies was dead. “You did. Next time you won’t let it get away,” he assured. Even if he expected more, it was hard to be too harsh on Kaden. That had always been more Lauren Langley’s thing. He placed his gun back in its holster and marveled over the dead bies. “Big du hurensohn, isn’t he,” he mused, before turning back to Kaden. With a somewhat playful grin and dramatic open-armed gesture, he responded, “What? No ‘good to see you’ or ‘how’ve you been’?” Something about Kaden seemed more tense than normal, given his injuries weren’t looking too good so he’d let it slide. “It wasn’t a planned trip. Got bored of Washington after I killed off the pack I’d been hunting. Figured since I was already in the states, I’d take the next train over. Planned on surprising you at the Bullet, but glad I caught you out here.” Giving him another look over, he asked, “We need to patch you up before you invite me to your surely humble abode?”

“That’s what I said last time,” Kaden mumbled to himself. Still, a small sigh of relief left his lips as Oscar forgave him. He was always so much easier to fail in front of than his parents. With how much of a fucking failure he felt like recently, it was easy for him to forget. His uncle always could see the immense pressure Kaden put on himself, that much was clear to both of them. He never rubbed it in. It’s something he’d always appreciated. The corners of his mouth slowly pulled up into a smile, his muscles relaxing as he found himself fitting back into their old rhythm. It had been so long now, he had to remember the beats bit by bit. “Sure is. You know this is the third I’ve run into here. This town is a trip,” he said as he nudged the fallen body of the beast with the toe of his boot. It flopped back down, very dead. Funny, Regan would have loved to study this, watch it decay. It was all he could think about. Putain. The tension was back, his eyes flashed wide for a second. He had to keep Oscar from Regan. There’s no way that would go well. “Yeah that sure sounds like you. Doubt you’ll get bored quite as fast here,” he said with a small laugh, still cradling his arm. He gave it a quick one over. It was bad, alright. He was pretty sure the fact that his uncle might be here a while was bad, too. There was no way he was going to be all approving of the bullshit Kaden had found himself in recently. Then again, maybe this was good; shake him out of whatever crap he was stuck in. “Yeah, it needs some stitches, pretty sure. I think we can wrap it for now, fix it up once we’re at my place. Where are you staying anyway?” Cause it’s not with me.

Even if he agreed to an extent, Oscar wasn’t cruel enough to say so. Kaden had always been hard on himself. Lauren had always been pretty hard on him, too. Oscar preferred to embrace the more fun side of hunting and tried to share that with the younger man he had always considered family. “Neither of us could have anticipated a fucking bies showing up, Junge,” he finally responded. There was always next month. At the mention of it being the third bies Kaden had seen in town, he tilted his head. He’d read about them plenty, but he’d never gotten to encounter let alone kill one before tonight. “I see you chose a fun town to call home. I’ve always wanted to kill one of these bad boys. And don’t worry, I’m not gonna crash at your place and scare all your dates off.” He said the last part jokingly before wrapping Kaden’s arm up enough for them to at least make it back to his home. When they did arrive, Oscar looked around the apartment incredulously. Why did Kaden have so many bones and skulls decorating the place? None of them even looked like werewolves. How mundane. He cocked his brow and asked, “What’s with all the bones? You got a new hobby I don’t know about?”

“Yeah and funny enough I didn’t want to see you dead. Who knew,” Kaden responded jokingly. It was weird to hear White Crest called his home while Oscar patched up his arm, but he supposed he wasn’t wrong. He’d been here a while and this was the most settled and stable he’d felt in a long time. Guess this was home, then. Not sure how he felt about that. But when he opened up the door to his apartment and Abel came bounding up to both of them, he took a look around. Yeah, oddly enough this was home. “Yeah, about that,” he started as he ruffled Abel’s fur with his good hand. “I, uh, have a girlfriend. She’s into dead things. Lots of skulls. Trust me, it’s better than some of her alternatives.” Kaden tensed. He nearly forgot that Regan was fae. And he just told his uncle, a hunter, who hated the supernatural as much as Kaden did when he got to White Crest, about his girlfriend who was a banshee. “You want a drink?” Maybe he could gloss over this whole thing. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here, by the way. You know as opposed to anywhere else in the states.”

At the mention of a girlfriend, Oscar looked somewhat incredulous. It had been a long time since they last saw each other, but it was still hard to imagine Kaden settling down. He wondered if perhaps he finally found another hunter. The Langleys had always been big on their legacy. With a playful grin, he pressed, “Girlfriend, huh? Surprised she hasn’t gifted you a werewolf skull for the collection yet. Who’s the lucky lady?” He noted the dog, remembering him being mentioned one of the last times they spoke on the phone. He extended his hand to let Abel give him a sniff. “A dog now, too? When’d you get all domestic on me, kid?” The apartment definitely looked lived in. It’d been a while since he stayed in one place long enough to really make it feel like home. After Kaden was old enough to go out on his own, he didn’t see much purpose in having a home base though his house still stood back in Bad Wimpfen. It’d been too long since he’d been back. “A beer sounds good right about now-- and none of that American shit,” he answered. He feigned a hurt look. “What? I can’t pop in and surprise my favorite nephew?” He shrugged and took a seat on the couch before giving a real answer. “I keep up with the news wherever you go. Seems like this town is a hell of a ride. Plenty of monsters to kill and we get to catch up. Win win.”

Kaden reached up to rub the back of his neck. Oh god, there was no good way to even start this conversation. He couldn’t say what she was. At all. But Oscar had to at least know that Regan was unaware of the whole hunter thing. “Uh, not likely. She doesn’t know the supernatural exists. Still. And definitely doesn’t know about the hunting thing, either.” He wasn’t sure how Oscar was going to react to that news, but he was sure there was going to be some judgement. Hell, he’d judge himself, too. “Her name’s Regan. She’s a medical examiner. Gorgeous. Entirely too smart to bother with me. But here we are,” he said with a shrug as he headed to the kitchen to grab the booze. “Yeah, Abel. Got him to be a hunting dog. He’s, uh, he’s a great dog. But not a hunter.” He rolled his eyes as he swung open the fridge door. “It’s not domestic. It’s just--” Alright, it was a little domestic. “There’s more than enough hunting to do here so I don’t know, it just sort of happened.” He made the mistake of giving a shit about people here, that’s really what happened. Not sure why he let it, he had plenty of connections. Oscar, all their hunter connections, it should have been enough. Instead he lost focus. And now his uncle was going to find out. Still, it was nice knowing someone was looking out for him, even if he wasn’t going to say it. “Hey, it’s not that I’m not happy to see you just wanted to make sure there wasn’t some big shit I should be worried about or shit like that.” Kaden popped off the caps on the bottles, and went back over to the couch, taking a seat after handing Oscar one of the beers. “And come on, American beer? I know it’s been a while but who the hell do you think I am?”

While it was surprising, Oscar didn’t mind much that Kaden was dating a human that didn’t know about the supernatural. It wasn’t like he settled down with a nice hunter woman himself and he cared little for the whole legacy thing. He could practically hear Lauren’s disapproval though his own was more rooted in potentially putting a human in danger. It was why he never dated too seriously. Too much risk. Still, Kaden was an adult now. “If she doesn’t know about the supernatural, it’s better she doesn’t know about the hunting. Just be careful. Don’t need a human getting too curious about animal attacks in the woods.” He nodded along as he described Regan. It didn’t quite click where all the bones fit in, but the medical examiner part made a little more sense. “Regan. Sounds like a catch. You’ll have to introduce me soon. How’d you two meet?” None of what he said made it easier to wrap his head around seriously dating a human who knew nothing of their world, but if it made Kaden happy, he could be supportive. At the end of the day, kid was going to do whatever the hell he wanted anyway. He gave Abel a few pats on the head and let out a hearty chuckle. “Doesn’t look like much of a hunter, you’re right. Even trained, I don’t think there’s much dogs can do against a werewolf. Guess they could alert you, but you should know well enough to always be tuned in completely on a full moon.” He raised a brow as Kaden grabbed a brew for him. “It’s a little domestic, but judging on the paper here, you have your work cut out for you.” While it was strange to see him settling down, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. It was clear he was still out there and hunting, keeping this crazy town safe. “No big shit to worry about here. Just couldn’t let you have all the fun out here.” He took the bottle of Warsteiner from Kaden and took a long swig. “Had to make sure you didn’t get that Budweiser crap to go along with the American dream you’ve got going on here.”

“Trust me, I do my best to keep her out of it. But this town is a shit show. I’ve got plenty of stories already, let me tell you.” It would be nice to swap war stories, it was one of the best parts of whenever Kaden and Oscar reconnected, going over all the shit that they ran into out on hunts, laughing at the ridiculous crap that happened, figuring out who took down the bigger beasts. That he was looking forward to. Introducing him to Regan, much less so. “Yeah, at some point, for sure. Maybe over dinner or something.” Or never, they could meet never, too. “Uh, met her while out jogging. Then went for a date in a cemetery. I thought she might be a vampire or a slayer or something. I was a little off.” Just a fucking bit. He took a chug of his drink. It was always funny remembering how things started off with Regan and how different it was now. “Yeah, figured he’d be more help out in the field on a regular basis, alert me to monsters, maybe get a shot in or two, you know. But he just runs and hides. Oh well. I do alright on my own.” Never mind he was probably just a moment away from his second near death experience up against a wolf in this town earlier tonight. “Tais-toi, I’m not that domestic. But yeah there’s no shortage, that’s for sure. I’m working as an animal control officer so I’ve been getting paid for hunting shit which is really nice, let me tell you.” He grabbed a post-it pad nearby and chucked it at Oscar’s head. “Fuck off,” he said playfully. “It’s not about that. No bullshit American dreams, just a good hunting spot, alright? Figured I earned a few benefits, that’s all. Not like hunting gives you health insurance.”

“Shit show town, looks like I chose the right place to visit you. Anything going on currently you could use an extra hand with,” Oscar asked genuinely, “You know, outside of killing that Krieg wolf.” He was very eager to hear what monsters were lurking in town and meet the woman who seemed to have Kaden settling down. It’d been far too long since they’d gotten to spend real time together and he missed that connection. Kaden was the only family he had left and it was good to see he was taking care of himself. Building a life for himself the way his parents had though he had to wonder if kids were ever going to be in the picture. It’d be hard to train a hunter if one spouse wasn’t in the know, but he didn’t need to know everything about their relationship just yet. “Dinner would be perfect. Cemetery is one hell of a first date. No wonder you thought she was a vampire or slayer. Glad you were wrong… well, about the vampire part. Dated a slayer once. That was definitely a fun time.” He’d spare Kaden the details on that one. He let out a laugh in good spirits. It was always good catching up. With another sip from his beer, he joked, “Right, whatever you say, Junge. I believe you on it being a good hunting spot. Less than a day here and I already spot and kill my first bies. Nice you’re essentially getting paid to hunt.” At the mention of health insurance, he shook his head. “Verdammt noch mal. Americans and their shitty health care system.”

“I have a camazotz I need to look for but that’s about it. Aside from that fucking wolf.” Kaden’s grip on the beer bottled tightened. He was so close to getting his revenge. So fucking close. And he let it slip away. But, no, he couldn’t let Oscar die. There was no way he was okay losing even more of his family to that fucking monster. He’d meet up with the monster again, he was sure of it. And they’d take it down this time. Full stop. “Great, sure, uh I’ll plan that. At some point. She’s pretty busy though. All the time. Huge death rate in town. But yeah, she’s weird alright, but I like her.” He tried to keep some of the goofy smile off his face, but there was really no hiding it when he got sappy and shit. “And you act like I’ve never dated a hunter. Come on, I do know what it’s like. I’m not fucking fifteen anymore.” Thank god for that. He was glad he had Oscar back then but he was even happier to have left that time right after his parents’ deaths in the past. He wished it didn’t come bubbling back up to the surface every time they reunited. Shit, he’d have to tell Oscar about his mother’s ghost. Later. Not now, not tonight. Tonight they earned a break. “Yeah, well, welcome to White Crest, Oscar.”

#wickedswriting #writing #chatzy #oscar #forfuchssake #blood ties

13 notes · View notes

chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

Text

Mime & Dine || Oscar, Regan & Kaden (ft. Rumplskuffs)

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Kaden’s apartment PARTIES: @kadavernagh, @forfuchssake, and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Two hunters and a fae sit down for dinner

It was a lot slower going around the kitchen while he was still injured, but Kaden was determined to make this meal the best he possibly could. Not that he needed to impress anyone he was cooking for tonight, Regan and Oscar were both aware that he didn’t suck. No, the effort wasn’t out of pride so much as a means to keep his mind off of the situation at hand. His uncle was coming to dinner to meet his girlfriend. Which was weird enough as it was. Kaden had a girlfriend for one. Two, it was serious enough to bother meeting family. And three, Oscar was in the same town as him. These three things had never once happened in succession. So this was already strange. The fact that he was dating a fae and that his uncle was a hunter did nothing to simplify the matter. Lucky him. It meant he was making a three course meal because if he was cooking it meant he wasn’t panicking. At least that’s what he was telling himself.

Abel barked to alert him to the rap on the door and Kaden quickly put aside what he could, pulse pounding through him at the thought of what was next. “Necklace!” he called out to Regan as he went to get the door, just in case she didn’t already have it on or forgot or who knew. It was second nature to have her around without it on at this point. But the last thing he needed Oscar to see was the wings. He swallowed down the fear creeping up his throat and placed his slightly shaky palm to the doorknob, swinging it open. He’d chalk up the unsteadiness to his injury. Even if that wasn’t quite the reality of the situation. “Hey, come in. Still have a bit to finish up before we can eat,” he said to Oscar as he led him inside, Abel pushing past to greet the other man. “You already know Abel. And, uh, this is Regan.” He gestured back towards his girlfriend who seemed almost as nervous as he felt. Almost. “You, uh, should talk. Or something. While I--” A beeping started coming from the kitchen. “Soon, it’ll be done soon.” He ran off to the safety of the kitchen to finish off what was left of the meal. Putain, maybe he should have started prepping earlier, it was an idiotic idea to leave the hunter alone with a banshee. Kaden had a feeling he wouldn’t be eating a lot tonight. Not if his stomach kept churning like this.

“So you see,” Regan explained to Abel, as the two of them were sprawled out on the couch, “that’s why both humans and canines can get salmonellosis.” He seemed attentive, but the only response she was met with was panting. They could work on that. Then again, she was about ready to start panting, too -- the smells drifting over from the kitchen warmed her as they filled her up. Kaden wouldn’t tell her what he was making, wouldn’t even let her help, but Regan trusted that even in his injured state, he was still the best French cook in town. Plus, it was good for him to handle his stress in a healthy way. She wasn’t sure how to handle her own. Oscar meant so much to Kaden, was really all he had left in this world for family, and even knowing his opinions on people with wings -- ridiculous -- she still desperately wanted to meet him. Abel suddenly leaped off the couch and zoomed toward the door. Necklace! Kaden’s panicked shout sounded from the kitchen, and Regan bolted up. It was so easy to forget she wasn’t even wearing it these days. Even Kaden didn’t seem to mind. She plucked it from the bowl in the middle of the table and clasped it on, then slipped into a cardigan to hide the long slits in the back of her shirt, too. Those would probably raise a brow. There was a lot riding on her ability to hide her symptoms -- not just Oscar’s inevitable poor reaction, but more importantly, his relationship with Kaden.

She followed Kaden over to the door, observing his shaking hands and the nervous flitting of his eyes toward her back. Her own anxiety was spiking, knowing how much was on the line, but Kaden’s was definitely worse. Regan slid her arms around him, careful to avoid the healing gunshot wound, and pressed her lips to his warm cheek. “Kaden, it’ll be-- there’s no way he’d know. I mean, with the necklace. Nothing’s going to go wrong. No wings, no mimes, just a normal dinner with delicious food and a mountain of anxiety.” That didn’t seem to make things better as he opened the door.

Oscar was… well, he was older than Kaden, but not by the huge margin Regan had expected. He had a weathered look to him, punctuated by a dry, easy smile. Her eyes searched for features shared with Kaden, before she remembered that the two of them weren’t actually blood relatives. Her stomach plummeted as Kaden motioned toward her in introduction, and then he took off, called back by the kitchen. The words of comfort she had for Kaden just a few seconds ago dried up in her mouth, as she realized it was just the two of them right now. She extended a hand, but immediately thought better of it, remembering her cold skin. “I, uh -- it’s really nice to -- I’m Regan. Like he just said. You know that. Obviously. It’s not like Kaden has a bunch of random women living with him, so that’s probably -- oh, uh, not that I live with him. We each have our own apartment. Separately. Though he’s staying with me right now while he heals; he was just insistent on using his own kitchen for this, so we -- he was badly hurt, you know. He was in the hospital...” Kaden, please come back. She shot a pleading look toward the kitchen. No salvation came. “Oh! He’s okay now, though. Well, mostly. Well enough to be doing this. I’m a doctor, so I’ve been making sure he doesn’t over-exert himself, and -- and sorry, I talk a lot when I’m nervous. Or sometimes not at all. But Kaden suggested we talk, so that’s -- it’s nice to meet you.”

Oscar had to admit that being in the same town as Kaden again felt nice. As an only child with no children himself, it wasn’t as if he had much outside the hunter community. Plus, this town had no shortage of beasts to kill. Most of his recent hunts had been hedgehounds and bonedoggles, but it was only a matter of time before a more exciting fight came into play. It was no wonder Kaden chose to call this place home. Hell, he was essentially even getting paid to hunt in a very official capacity. He was proud of the life his nephew had built for himself here. While it was a little too on the up and up for his liking, it was good to see him doing well for himself. He was looking forward to meeting this Regan that he seemed so sweet on. It was a surprise to see him settling down to this extent, but as long as he wasn’t shirking his duty, the kid deserved a little happiness.

He opted to wear a sweater rather than his usual leather jacket. No need to have Kaden’s lady friend making unsavory assumptions about him. Oscar knew they were all likely to be true, but making a good impression all around was probably important to Kaden. He’d brought a case of beer along with him. As he knocked on the door, he heard Abel alert everyone of his presence. The fact both Kaden and Regan seemed a bit nervous wasn’t lost on Oscar. “No worries,” he assured as he made his way inside, “I’m sure your lady and I can find something to talk about while you finish cooking.” He handed off the case of beer he brought before Kaden ran off to follow the timer that was going off. He shook his head and let out a small chuckle. “It’s good to meet you, Regan.”

Before he could get another word in, she seemed to be rambling at a million miles a minute. Apparently they didn’t live together, not that Oscar would care if they were. They were both adults after all. Hell, she’d probably be safer having Kaden around, especially considering there was a ghost trying to kill both of them. He placed his hands up and laughed a bit as he responded, “Immer sachte, even if you two did live together, I wouldn’t care. Not that it matters what I think. It’s Kaden’s life. If having you around makes him happy, then I’m happy for him.” He still couldn’t quite understand it, being in a relationship with a human who didn’t know about the supernatural, but it was obvious they cared for each other. “I’m glad he has a medical professional taking care of him though,” he added though he wondered how she didn’t question the speed at which his wounds healed. He walked over to the couch with Abel following close behind and took a seat. “So, tell me a bit about yourself, Regan. I know that you’re a medical examiner and apparently entirely too smart for Kaden here, but not much else.”

Kaden couldn’t tell if the sweat on his brow was coming from the warm kitchen or from everything else. What were they saying over there? Had he seen the wings? Somehow? Through the glamour of the necklace? Putain, he’d definitely seen the wings and was probably about to stab her right now. Then he heard her rambling all the way from the kitchen. He stood up straight and inhaled deeply. This was fine. It would be fine. Hell, he thought she was human for months. Oscar couldn’t possibly figure it out in one night.

Right. Kaden swallowed back the panic. Or was it finally bile? He wasn’t sure. Still he raced around the kitchen, trying to work as fast as possible. What if she shook his hand? Putain de merde, he’d know, he’d figured it out, maybe he already had. Kaden poked his head out of the kitchen briefly. They were just standing and talking. He rushed back in as soon as he remembered he had to take the fucking food off the stove top. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Breathe. He had to breathe.

Kaden held that breath, expanding his lungs and waiting, trying to force his pulse back to something normal. Alright. The food only needed a minute longer to cool off and he could plate it. Nothing more for him to do in the kitchen. Probably good. As much as he wanted to run away from the situation, leaving the two of them alone seemed far worse. He grabbed a beer for Oscar, pouring it into a stout glass. He grabbed the wine and poured out a glass for Regan. And for a moment he stood there and contemplated which he wanted for himself. The beer Oscar had brought was a good one, he expected nothing less from his uncle, it was a good dark stout and was no doubt enjoyable. The wine he’d bought for the meal was perfectly balanced, just right for the coq au vin he was preparing and about to serve. Oscar wouldn’t poke fun at him for picking the wine, right? Putain. He was sure he’d enjoy both, but he didn’t know how to pick. Practically speaking, the bottle was open now. So wine it was for him. He couldn’t exactly waste any more time hiding away, he needed to intervene.

“I was gone for a minute and already talking shit about me, I see,” Kaden said to Oscar, carrying the drinks over as best he could, handing the beer to the other hunter and one of the wine glasses to Regan. “You’re not wrong though.” He stood close to Regan and took an awkward sip from his glass, not sure what to say next or how this was supposed to go. “We can sit soon. Or you should. I’ll get the food in a minute. It just needs to cool off a little.” It would be great if the tension he felt could cool down, too.

Oscar wanted to know about her. Beyond her job. This already felt like navigating a mimefield. Er, minefield. “No, no, we can’t live together,” Regan insisted. Then realized why she shouldn’t say that. It would raise questions. “Uh, I mean because… I barely sleep. You know, rising early to go for a run and then spending evening hours at the morgue. Oh, but you asked about me outside of work. Wait, did Kaden say that? I’m not-- I’m lucky to have him.” She felt the blood rising to her cheeks, and scurried behind Oscar over to the couch. She stayed standing, nervous about inching too close. There was no way he’d be able to tell, right? She hadn’t shook his hand. He couldn’t hear her pulse from here, surely. And even if he had done or was capable of those things, what was to say that he’d even put two-and-two together? Her condition was incredibly rare -- so rare that Regan had never heard of a medical professional who knew about it.

“Well, I… I’m from Augusta. It’s a few hours from here. J'apprends le français. Kaden is teaching me, of course. And, don’t worry. The first word I picked up was putain.” Regan leaned flat against the wall, observing Oscar’s comfort level with Abel. The two were well-acquainted. “I have brothers. One in Augusta, and one near Boston.” Though her relationship with both of them ranged from complicated to non-existent, given recent events. “No pets, but I was recently reunited with my childhood coyote skeleton. Is that, uh, sufficient?”

Thankfully, Kaden came fumbling back into the room, smelling like warm food and looking like he’d gone for a cycle through a washing machine. He thought-- “What? No, we weren’t-- right, joke.” Normally even she would realize that right away. This was tense. Regan shook her hands out in front of her like it could relieve some of the situation’s gravity, and she sidled closer to Kaden. “Are you doing okay?” She whispered, trying to catch a moment when Oscar was preoccupied. “We’re fine, Kaden. Really. Just…” She noticed what he was holding. Well, she’d noted the wine glasses before. But realized they were glass as he pushed one of them into her hands. Regan’s eyes flicked between the glass and Kaden, as she tried to communicate her worry.

The wine glass in her hand felt dangerous. Even on a good day, bringing one to her lips or holding one felt like tempting fate. Today, her nerves were relentless. Meeting your significant other’s closest relative did that, she supposed. And according to Kaden, Oscar happened to be a bigot. Who would hate her if he knew about the wings on her back. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to file that away somewhere, never to revisit it, or if she wanted to cling onto that fact, unable to fully see Oscar as the good, kind, loving person Kaden had always known him to be. Regan gulped down a breath and treaded carefully into the kitchen. Without any commentary, she quietly swapped her wine glass out for a plastic one. Fortunately, Kaden started keeping some non-glass options. Regan wasn’t sure exactly when he’d bought them, but she suspected it was after she’d blown up his entire alcohol cabinet. Dinner smelled close to done, and when she turned around, she saw Kaden and Oscar had followed her. “So, um, do you want to fill us in on what you’re making, Kaden?” She turned to Oscar, setting her new glass on the table to hopefully divert some attention from it. “I assume you know about Kaden’s proclivity for making incredible food. Desserts, especially.” One of the things Kaden took from his mother, which left Regan wondering… just how much did Oscar know about his parents?

It was a bit confusing as Regan explained why they couldn’t live together, but Oscar shrugged it off. Whether or not they were ready to live together was entirely on them though he imagined it’d be difficult for Kaden to explain nightly patrols, especially on the nights surrounding the full moon. It was for the better, not that it was truly his place to say. “No need to explain yourself, but I’ll say it’s admirable how dedicated you are to your work. He did, but I think you’re probably right. You’re both lucky to have each other.” He mostly believed it though he had a hard time wrapping his mind around having an honest to god relationship with someone clueless about the supernatural. Kaden had to be free to make his own choices though he could practically hear Lauren chiding him about legacies of all things.

Oscar let out a hearty laugh as Kaden returned from the kitchen and handed a beer over to him. While he’d hardly call it talking shit, it was always a good time to poke a little fun. “Now, now, I’m just using your words, Junge, though the more she talks the more I’m inclined to agree,” he joked. He took a refreshing sip of his beer and focused his attention back to Regan as Kaden put the finishing touches on their meals. He hadn’t heard of Augusta, but he did chuckle at the mention of the first French word she had learned being putain. Not surprising coming from Kaden. “Ah, putain de merde, I see someone still has a foul mouth. I can assure you he didn’t get that from me. Le français est une belle langue mais l'allemand est meilleur,” he responded before adding, “A coyote skeleton, huh? I take it you’ve loved biology from a young age then?” A bit strange, but not entirely concerning on its own.

Something was off though Oscar couldn’t quite place it. Both Kaden and Regan seemed apprehensive and he couldn’t understand why. Sure, he’d given Kaden a hard time about settling down with a nice lady, but they had to know he’d only been joking, right? Maybe he’d have a talk with Kaden later though he hated serious conversations. For now, he’d do his best to lighten the mood as he followed Regan and Kaden over to the table. “Kaden’s always been a good cook. That part he definitely didn’t get from me though I can make a great bratwurst.” There still seemed to be an air of tension, so he went along and agreed, “Please do fill us in. Everything smells great. I know your papa would be proud.”

“That’s bullshit,” Kaden shot back with an easy laugh. “I’m pretty sure I learned every curse word I know from you. In three languages no less.” He shook his head a bit before taking a sip of his wine. With the way Regan was holding the glass like it was a grenade, he wondered if he’d made the wrong choice. Should he have gone with beer for all of them instead? No that seemed wrong. Still, he couldn’t figure it out.

In the brief moment Oscar turned away to give Abel some of the attention he was begging for from any of the humans in the room, he gave Regan’s free hand a squeeze. “I’m alright. I’m fine. It’s--” Kaden tried to keep his voice at a whisper but it was hard to manage with them spilling out a mile a minute. His words trailed off as he followed her line of sight to the glass, his brow knitting together as he focused on the stemare. What was the issue? Did she not want wine? Should he have gotten something different? His eyes flitted back to hers, still narrowed in confusion and missing whatever very obvious hint she was clearly trying to send him. Nope, still didn’t get it. “Did you want something different?” As soon as the words left his mouth it hit him.

Putain, he was an idiot. The glass. Guess he wasn’t lying when he said she was too smart for him. Before Kaden could figure out what the hell to do with the glass, any of it, all of it, Oscar had stopped petting the dog and looked back at them. Well, fuck. That was it, this was doomed. He should make them both leave now, that’d solve the issue. Thankfully Regan slipped away into the kitchen, likely to make a swap. Okay good. He could do this.

“Must not have poured enough,” he said with an attempt at a small chuckle. Kaden looked over at Oscar, hoping to catch his eye, ask him without words if he approved or-- well, merde, he didn’t know what he was asking, really. Some sign this was all going okay? He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what he was even meant to do in this scenario. There was some solace in the fact that he was confident that Oscar was just as lost as he was muddling through this. “You like her so far?” he asked once Regan was out of earshot. For someone who spent a lot of his time touting how little he cared about what others thought of him, Kaden was pretty concerned about what his uncle thought of his life. At least he did now, when it was looking like the path he was carving was different than the one his uncle took. Not that he ever expected that to be the case.

Regan headed to the table and Kaden figured it was about time to get the food ready. “You sit down, I’ll bring out the food,” he said as he branched away towards the kitchen to grab the plates, bringing the dishes out one by one. Quickly. The less time they were left alone, the better, right? “So tonight we have coq au vin served with rosemary roasted potatoes and green beans blanched with a dijon vinaigrette on the side,” he said, placing the plates in front of them.

“And of course, a tarte tatin for dessert,” he added, flashing Regan a quick smile as he took his seat, finally. “I considered making a soup course to start with but I, uh,” Didn’t want to extend the evening any longer than he had to. “Well, I think I went overboard as it is so bon appétit.”

His stomach was twisted in a complicated web of knots. It was all Kaden could manage to pick at the food in front of him that he spent so many hours creating. But pick away he did, his eyes barely on his food. Instead he was trying not to stare at Regan and Oscar intently. Right, he drifted his gaze back down to the table instead. The tablecloth. It… It was purple. And polka dotted. And were those dots changing sizes. “What the…” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. The fucking pixie. Great. Just great. The one factor of this equation he hadn’t planned for. Maybe Oscar wouldn’t notice. “So, uh, anyway, how’s the food?”

Shit. Crap. Putain. She shouldn’t have mentioned the childhood coyote skeleton. Would he see that as a symptom? No, no, surely there were plenty of children who opted for articulated animal skeletons instead of stuffed toys, right? Regan stuttered, unable to get a good, convincing answer past her lips. “It’s-- well, yes, I always have-- sometimes I find b-- I mean, I had all of the bones, and I wanted to-- it seemed a waste to not--” Kaden saved her, describing dinner. He must have been really stressed to cook so much. Not surprising, but the thought ached inside of her nonetheless. He wanted both of their approval. That much was obvious, despite Kaden’s usual commentary about not caring about that kind of thing. Regan never really believed that to be true, and any conversation involving Kaden’s family highlighted just how false it was. She’d share her own thoughts about Oscar with him later, after he left. So far, they were mostly positive. That alone sat inside of her uncomfortably, considering what she knew about him beyond his easy and kind demeanor. Based on what Kaden had told her, this dinner would be going very differently if she hadn’t been wearing the necklace.

The food looked and smelled delicious, but her stomach was too full of nerves for her to fully enjoy it. Still, she did her best to clear at least half of the plate. Whatever they didn’t finish would either go home with Oscar, or the two of them could have it as leftovers when they didn’t need to worry about one small slip-up leading to Kaden being ostracized from the only remaining family he had left. Regan’s pulse spiked at the thought, the reminder of what was at stake. She set her fork down. Looked at her plastic glass full of wine, untouched. Her hands felt shaky, and she needed to step away, collect herself, conduct the breathing exercises Deirdre taught her so she didn’t end up accidentally breaking something by exhaling too harshly. “I’ll be right--”

But as Regan set her hands on the tablecloth to stand up, she noticed something. “Kaden, is this… a new tablecloth?” She studied it. Purple with polka dots. At least it wasn’t black and white stripes, but it was a far cry from Kaden’s usual decor. “Remind me to find you one that’s less-- well, one that fits in with the rest of your kitchen.” Not that Regan was much of an interior decorator -- her own apartment was primarily stark white so she didn’t have to consider things like this -- but a garish tablecloth undercut his cooking. She ran it through her fingers, noting that the dots almost seemed to be… no, they were moving. Some were growing, while others were shrinking. A few turned into black-and-white cookies, split down the middle. “Kaden.” She looked at him, eyes wide. This wasn’t normal. This was one of those things. Like the mushrooms in Kaden’s bed, or how Abel’s tail was occasionally green. Rumpleskuffs. She drummed her fingers anxiously against the table, before looking at Oscar, then Kaden again. “You know, our friend may have sold you a faulty tablecloth. Maybe we should go speak with him.” It was just close enough to the truth that she didn’t double over, but deep enough into liar’s territory that she choked, spilling her wine across the table.

Oscar feigned shock at Kaden’s statement. Of course he had been the one to teach Kaden swear words much to his parents’ disapproval, but it was more fun to play the innocent card. He turned to Regan and playfully commented, “Don’t believe a word this one says about me. I am and always have been a perfect gentleman.” He couldn’t even keep a straight face and laughed almost immediately after the words left his mouth. Somehow, the mood still didn’t feel any lighter and Regan seemed to spiral into another small ramble. Had what he said been offensive? Sometimes it was difficult for him to pick up on small nuances in English as it wasn’t his first or most spoken language. “I didn’t mean it if it sounded as if I was questioning the coyote skeleton. While not my cup of tea, I think science is important and it’s admirable that you took an interest in it at such a young age,” he clarified. Or at least he hoped he had. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Kaden’s girlfriend off when by all indication it appeared his nephew built himself a good life here.

The spread Kaden had going for dinner was nothing short of impressive. Oscar had no doubt in his mind that Lauren would be proud of this meal. It highlighted their culture and cuisine while still having some of the familiar aspects he’d remembered in dinners at the Langley home back in Lyons whenever Lauren and Charles would prepare a meal. It was hard not to be nostalgic for those days. Hell, it probably should have been them here at this dinner with Kaden and his lady, but here he was, doing his best still to be a stand in. Uncle had always better suited him. He was better at the more fun aspects of things, but Oscar was all Kaden had left. Maybe he’d never be able to provide the same stability Lauren and Charles had, but he’d be here when it counted. Right now, it did. “It smells just as good as I remember it. It’s been too long since I’ve had a good coq au vin.”

He had dove into eating his meal. After an afternoon filled with target practice, Oscar had worked up quite the appetite. Everything smelled and tasted so delicious, he’d been caught up in his first few bites before he noticed Kaden and Regan were being even stranger now. He looked up from his plate and set his fork down. “What’s wrong,” he asked, looking to Kaden before the movement on the tablecloth caught his attention. “Sheisse!” It was purple and moving when it decidedly had not been before. Somehow, he’d ended up with a cursed tablecloth though he had to think quick to explain it to Regan. It seemed she’d already come up with a logical explanation. “Yeah, Junge, I think your friend has an odd sense of humor. Holographic tablecloths are a little gauche, but a real shit prank.” Maybe not the best explanation, but he was thinking on his feet as the Americans said. Regan seemed to be sputtering and he looked to Kaden, “We should probably just remove the tablecloth.”

Normally Regan wasn’t one to pick at her food. Not unless something was off. Kaden knew that much. His heart sunk down into the knots of his stomach as his mind flashed to months ago, them sitting at the same table, picking at their food the same way just moments before the first time he first saw her wings. His eyes caught Oscar, scarfing down dinner like nothing was amiss. Good, that was good. He didn’t suspect anything. Not yet. He was just as clueless as Kaden had been. Maybe more. “Glad you like it,” he said, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smile despite his worry. It was hard not to feel a little pride swell at the thought of following in his family’s footsteps, doing them proud, even with something as silly as getting a family recipe right.

The knot in his stomach didn’t untangle much, though. And it was obvious Regan was just fraught as he was over the whole situation. Maybe Kaden shouldn’t have told her as much as he had about Oscar, let her be a little less nervous for this. No, that would have been worse. Much worse. Keeping her in the dark might have been easier for them upfront but worse in the long run. Plus, there was some comfort in knowing he wasn’t alone with his nerves. He caught her eye and saw the flash of pure panic in them. Oh no. Not now. His jaw clenched as his eyes remained fixed on hers. Should he follow her? Do something? What if she was going to scream? Putain. He took a large swig of his wine. He had to calm down. Stress would only make this worse. If he was panicked, how could he even begin to help her? He was just about to ask her if she needed help when she pointed out what he already saw.

Shit. Kaden was hoping that he was the only one to notice that. He looked down at and back up at Oscar and then Regan. “This? Uh, yeah, it’s, uh new…” Relief hit him like a wave when she filled in the blanks for him. A small wave, tiny. Oscar did the rest. “You’re right. I should really get rid of it, just--” And then the wine splashed across the table, some of it onto his lap. Abel was up and at the side of the table, trying to lap up whatever it was that was falling off the table, hoping to get some crumbs, anything. “No, down! Shit!” He tried to push the dog away and save what he could of the food but neither was working particularly well.

Well this was a mess already. Not the kind Kaden had expected, though he really should have. He grabbed Abel’s collar and went to put him in his crate or the bedroom, something, when it hit him. “Sorry, I have to-- Can you two get the table cloth? I’ll be right back.” He turned and saw a rainbow budding out across the kitchen. Putain de merde. He’d asked the pixie to keep it down. Maybe he should have been more specific. Shit, they were going to see the-- “Uh, look! Over there! I think something spilled on the-- by the-- the thing!” he said, pointing away from the kitchen. Yes. What a perfect distraction. He grumbled and turned to go to the bedroom with Abel, but paused and realized he needed a bribe first. He dragged Abel with him to the pie in the kitchen and picked off a small piece, trying to keep it away from the dog. “Not yet,” he mumbled. “Regan will get you a peanut butter treat in a minute.” Abel barked an approval as they walked to the bedroom to go talk to a pixie.

As the wine spilled across the table, Regan’s hands flew to cover her mouth. She felt her palms vibrate as she caught and snuffed out a high-pitched yelp. A glance up. Lights intact. Nothing broken. She sighed in relief, and then slowly dropped her hands back to her sides. Close, too close. At least Oscar seemed to think Kaden got his hands on a holographic tablecloth, and-- well, maybe it really was that. It was a far more logical explanation than a “pixie” in a cage somehow altering their perception from several rooms away.

She was beginning to think she was going just as mad as Kaden, and the rest of this damn town.

“Sorry! I’ll clean this up. You--” Regan met Kaden’s eyes to confirm that he knew exactly where he needed to go. “You go do the, uh, thing. That you have to do. You know, talk to our friend! I’ll be here. With your uncle. Cleaning wine.” Her nerves spiked as what that meant started to sink in. She didn’t want to be alone with him again, not when it felt so risky. At least with Kaden here, one of them was functionally able to lie if necessary. That, and his presence just made her feel a little more at ease. She could do this, right? They could talk about things that weren’t death-related. She was capable of carrying out a normal conversation… right? “Do you like, uh, yogurt?” She asked Oscar as Kaden scurried out of the room as quickly as possible. But as she looked over at Oscar, right there behind his shoulder was-- no, that had to be light coming through the window, refracting through the glass. There wasn’t a rainbow inside of Kaden’s apartment. No way. But as she stared, saw each color grow brighter and brighter, she realized this -- somehow -- could have been Rumpleskuff’s doing as well. Crap. He couldn’t know about Rumpleskuffs, could he? He had wings, just like her. Well, not just like her. Hers were far nicer. Not that they were nice. She shook her head at the thought. Get his attention away from the rainbow. That’s what Kaden would be trying to do at this moment.

Crap crap crap crap. What was the best way to distract someone? “Hey!” Regan clapped, hoping the noise would draw Oscar’s eyes, “Let’s, uh, clean up this wine! But don’t go searching for a rag. I have one, um, right over…” She looked in the opposite direction from the rainbow. Not many dishtowel-like objects to choose from over there, but she took a chance rummaging through one of the drawers. That’s when she found it-- a pair of boxer shorts? In-- why were they-- Regan frowned deeply at the underwear in her hands. It was covered in black and white stripes. She’d have questions for Kaden once Oscar left. “Let’s use these,” she said, trying to smooth any sign of being disturbed out of her voice. She motioned toward the table hoping to keep Oscar’s eyes on this side of the room. His gaze kept wandering, though. Time for last resorts -- she put a hand on his shoulder and guided it around, back toward the kitchen table. “Don’t worry about the faulty tablecloth! Just, uh, we need to clean the floor. You know, so it doesn’t get sticky.”

Verdammt! What was supposed to be an enjoyable dinner with his nephew and his girlfriend had spiraled into utter chaos. Oscar shook his head as wine spilled off the table in an attempt to remove the table cloth. Of course the dog was eager to lick anything up that made its way to the floor. How Regan wasn’t running for the hills right now was a mystery to him, but he always found non-powered humans had an odd way of rationalizing things. The yelp she was holding in was still sizable enough to indicate she was alarmed. He looked to her and did his best to remain calm. “It’s okay, looks like your friend is a real jokester. It’s just a tablecloth. Don’t worry, we’ll get it out of here.” What they would do about the inevitable curse on it was another question entirely. Had the feud he had going with the mimes escalated?

Kaden was rushing off to put Abel away and give someone a call. Hopefully a fucking spellcaster because this was a disaster. Oscar had been looking forward to this evening and didn’t quite appreciate the rude interruption. He was perplexed by the question about yogurt. “Yeah, I guess,” he answered while trying to further assess the situation. He knelt down to pick up the fallen food and was shocked when Regan suggested he used a pair of striped underpants to wipe up the wine. He looked at her, confusion evident in his face, and muttered, “Sheisse.”

“Are you telling me my nephew doesn’t keep dish towels, rags, or even paper products around for cleaning,” Oscar asked, trying to keep his tone more shocked than annoyed. His frustration wasn’t with Regan, rather with the mess of a situation they found themselves in. Though the stripes on the underwear confirmed that the mimes were definitely trying to curse his nephew. As much was truly bizarre. He shook his head and used the boxers anyway. Hopefully the curse on them wasn’t passed on by contact otherwise he and Regan would both be screwed. He started wiping up the wine though the floor was still sticky. “Does he have any cleaning spray I can use here?” He looked up from the floor, perplexed to see a rainbow in the kitchen. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “You know what, never mind, I have some water right here. Why don’t you finish your meal?” There’d be no way to explain the rainbow in the kitchen, so he hoped food was an adequate distraction.

“Hey, cut it out!” Kaden whispered harshly to the pixie on the dresser. “What about ‘keep it down’ did you not understand?” He grumbled and handed over the small piece of pie he’d nabbed over to the tiny fae. It wasn’t much of an offering, but it was better than nothing. “There are two big legs out there and at least one of them would kill you if he knew you were here.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Putain, it was entirely possible that Oscar could hear him talking in here. Hunter hearing. He’d have to keep it down, hope that he assumed he was talking to the dog. Abel looked at him and barked, expecting his own tiny treat, especially if the small winged thing got one. “Later. I promise,” he told the dog. That’s when it hit him. He blinked and then turned to Rumpleskuffs. Back to Abel. Then to the pixie again. “I’ll let you ride Abel around the room the whole time we’re out there if you promise to keep it down and no more illusions until Oscar leaves.”

Rumpleskuffs gasped in delight as Kaden walked into the room, bouncing off the walls of the cage. He kept begging Kaden to let him go spend one night in a fairy ring. Heck, he just wanted one mushroom. “All your friends always want to kill me! And you keep not letting them, so I’m okay, big guy!” He replied with a wicked grin, enchanting the air around him red with white spots, swirling and dancing around him. But Kaden had his frowny, serious face on, so Rumple pouted, collapsing on to his back dramatically. “Ughhhhh! Do you know what you need, Kaden-Waden? A sense of humour!” He sat up sharply at the suggestion of riding Abel again. “Oh, yes please! I promise to keep it - whatever that is - down and no more illusions until Oscar leaves! Let me at him!”

Kaden breathed a sigh of relief as he opened up the cage and let Rumpleskuffs fly over to Abel who seemed to not mind his small winged friend at all. Well at least both of them would be occupied and he slipped out to go see what was happening now with Regan and Oscar. His pulse spiked again at the thought alone. No, they were okay. They had to be. He would have heard a scream otherwise. He couldn’t have anticipated what he saw in his wildest dreams. They were both on the floor with some black and white striped fabric in their hands wiping off the floor. The rainbow behind them in the kitchen was fading away which was good but-- Wait. “Whose boxers are those? And where-- Why?” He shook his head and went to grab a towel in the kitchen and just saw rows and rows of striped boxers there. “What the fuck?” He couldn’t tell if that was a Rumpleskuffs or Isabelle special, but he grumbled some curse words to himself either way and grabbed a roll of paper towels. “Both of you sit. Eat. I’ve got it,” he said as he crouched down and wiped up the last of the wine. “Those aren’t mine. For the record,” he said pointing to the fucking mime boxers.

“He, uh… he does keep them. Just not… here.” Regan winced, anticipating a lump in her throat from the lie, but it never came. She supposed it was vague enough. “He’s very clean. You know, I think it comes with the territory of being such a talented chef. Clean kitchen, clean food, plenty of cleaning supplies and dish towels and rags, but-- don’t concern yourself with it, just use the… boxers. He doesn’t want them, anyways. Trust me.” If he even knew they were here.

Regan should have figured things would go south; they almost always did. At least this time, it hadn’t directly been her fault. She just needed to continue not being suspicious. “No, no, I’ll help. I don’t want to eat while the two of you are, um, handling things.” Not to mention, it felt like there was a storm surging in her stomach. She wasn’t going to be able to settle it enough to enjoy dinner now, and she had a feeling Kaden would feel the same. As Oscar cleaned the floor, Regan carefully transported everything from the kitchen table to the counter so she could roll up and discard the table cloth.

The rainbow hovered menacingly across the kitchen, just waiting for Oscar to catch a glimpse of it. Kaden needed to come back, and soon. Regan wasn’t sure she could hold Oscar off for much longer. She tried to stay on the opposite side of the room, keeping his attention drawn, but -- “Look over here!” She said, as Oscar nearly turned toward the rainbow. She leaped down onto the floor with him, doing some scrubbing of her own, “I mean, because, uh, oh! Kaden is coming back. I hear him.” Fortunately, she really did. She sighed audibly and sank down to her butt. Kaden was back. Everything was going to be okay. He even looked less nervous than before. “Did you talk to him?” But his face was bunched up in confusion. As Regan looked down to what was in her and Oscar’s hands, she understood why. “Oh, these are… they’re not yours, are they? We found them in the drawer. I didn’t want to get a towel because of the--” No. Don’t say it. “It doesn’t matter. Look, we cleaned up most of the wine! Everything is taken care of.” Out of the corner of her eye, Regan checked on the rainbow; even that was rapidly fading. Phew. “We don’t have a tablecloth now though, unless you have extras.” Or… Regan had a thought, staring at the innumerable striped boxers.

No.

Sometimes it was better to just not use a tablecloth.

This was decidedly not how this evening was supposed to go. Sure, settling down had never been Oscar’s thing, but he always had a soft spot for Kaden, even before Lauren and Charles had passed away. While the hijinks going on couldn’t possibly be blamed on him or ruin Regan’s impression of him, he still would have preferred things go smoothly despite the fact he normally loved some supernatural sheisse getting in the way of things. It usually meant some sort of fight though he had the feeling later on Kaden would not be opposed to letting him fight the mime who did this. It had to be a mime, right? Why else would striped boxers appear though the rainbow and purple tablecloth were also unsettling. He’d need to talk to Kaden when Regan wasn’t around. There was no need for her to get dragged into all this crap. She was drawing his attention now. “Right, yeah, he’s coming back,” he glanced briefly back at the fading rainbow which Regan seemed to have missed. That was a close one.

“What kind of people have you been hanging out with, Junge? Aren’t you a little old for pranks,” Oscar ribbed, hoping the natural air of humor he had about him would call away from anything suspicious about the situation. Kaden was insisting they sit back down and eat though now he could see the rainbow fading. The striped boxers while alarming were still funny now that he wasn’t actively trying to keep Regan from seeing anything too crazy. He could relax a bit now. That had been quite the jolt of excitement that would have been thrilling under just about any other circumstance. With a hearty chuckle, he answered, “I think we can do without the table cloth. I don’t think I’m a fancy enough guest to warrant it anyway.”

Oscar seemed to shrug off everything that had just happened, but Regan still felt the tension simmering through the kitchen. She stuck to Kaden’s side now that he was back, her arm entwining with his. As much as she wanted to whisper something to him right now about how close they’d come to Oscar seeing the rainbow, it was best to wait until they were alone. How would she have explained that, anyway? Well, actually, Regan could think of a number of implausible explanations, but she didn’t think any of them were right. She didn’t know what was right. Why had that been happening so often, lately? She looked at Kaden, staring nervously as Oscar joked up the cloth being a prank. There was silence for what felt like a minute. “Yes. A prank.”

“This isn’t from a person. It’s from a mime,” Kaden said with contempt. He thought the cookies would be the last of it. The stripes, wasn’t that torment enough? Hadn’t he suffered enough? He grumbled about Isabelle and fucking stripes, mostly in French while he helped clear off the table cloth. He sighed and brushed it aside when he felt Regan’s arm loop around his. He’d deal with all the mime nonsense and pixie nonsense and fae bullshit later. At this point, if Oscar didn’t know that Regan wasn’t human and a rainbow in the middle of the kitchen didn’t raise enough of an eyebrow to pull him aside, Kaden had to believe the rest of the night might be uneventful. It had to be, right? “You’re probably right, though. Just a prank. I’ll… figure it out later.” This night couldn’t last much longer, they were running out of disasters. And the last thing he wanted to do was tempt fate. “You know, I think we should skip to dessert. One second,” he said, giving Regan a quick peck on the cheek before turning back to the kitchen.

One step forward and a chill ran down his spine. The hell was that about? Could he sense fae now? What was going on? Kaden paused and looked around and saw the small mime monster made of cookies scurry through, a small mouse tail and little feet dangling from its stomach, and then slide out under the door. He stood there blinking as it crawled away, out of the apartment. “Putain,” he muttered. No. Not tonight. Later. He grabbed the pie and cut a few slices, carrying them back over with him. “How about we just eat in the living room on the couch?”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #writing #mime and dine #regan #kadavernagh #oscar #forfuchssake #Rumpleskuffs

8 notes · View notes

chasseurdeloup-retired · 3 years

Note

[pm] I don't know what was in the air last night, but I felt 22 again. Only more energized and stronger. It's the best hunting night I've had yet. Three wolves in one night. How was your hunt, Junge?

[pm] Putain de merde, three? How? I was stuck inside with an injury. I didn’t go out. I’m a disappointme I only got one. Got me in the side, too. Had to back off the rest of the night, probably tomorrow, too.

#oscar #we're not lying we're just stretching the truth #a lot #got doesn't mean kill #forfuchssake #answered

2 notes · View notes

chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

Note

[pm] So, that was close. Who cursed you? Was it those mimes you told me about?

[pm] Yeah it was. But wait, you don’t know that she’s a-- Oh. Right. You think she’s a human who doesn’t-- Great. She at least knows the town is weird so it wasn’t too hard to explain away. I’ve got no idea what the fuck that was but if I had to guess, the mimes had something to do with it.

#oscar #forfuchssake #answered

2 notes · View notes

carbrakes-and-stakes · 4 years

Text

Walk on the Wild Side - Oscar and Alain

Timing: a few nights ago

Parties: @forfuchssake & @carbrakes-and-stakes

Summary: Having just arrived in town, Oscar decides to roam around at night looking for coworkers.

In a new town, Oscar always liked roaming around to get a lay of the land. With the full moon past, he figured it was a good time to get a lay of the local cemeteries. While he wasn’t a Slayer, he hated the down time in between full moons. Spending his evenings at home or at the local bar got old too quickly. He craved the rush of adrenaline that came with a good fight and somehow it had gotten him this far. It was why he had an amused grin on his face as he noticed another man walking around the cemetery with a broadsword. Subtle. He could respect that. It looked like he was about to take on a zombie. As much as he was itching to fight, he observed for a moment. He was ready to jump in at any moment, but the other hunter seemed to have the situation under control.

“Dude, gross. That’s someone’s grandmother,” wrinkling his nose, the hunter shook his head in clear disapproval as he watched the zombie push the lid of a tombstone off. His sword in hand, Alain raised his eyebrows, wondering if this time he would have to run after that guy or if the zombie would try to fight him instead. Either way, that zombie would meet his end, and he would spend a few more moments not thinking about Evelyn, or Audrey, or anything that had been rough on his mood lately. “And he’s running,” chasing someone with a sword was not ideal, but it would have been worse had he opted for a hanging scabbard. He had made that mistake once. Never again. The zombie might have been fast, he didn’t know this cemetery as well as the hunter did, and when it came to avoid slippery paths, Alain was an expert. Approaching the zombie who had fallen to the floor, he was quick to put his foot on his chest, once again shaking his head. “The good thing is, this is not going to hurt. At least that’s what my notes say,” with those not so reassuring words, the hunter cut off the zombie’s head, picked it up with the end of his sword, like he’d have caught an olive, and began pouring gasoline on the remains, setting it all on fire, right on the gravel. “That was fast,” he sniffed and sat nearby, cleaning his sword clean before the next undead creature showed up.

The slayer seemed to move with relative ease which was something that came with years of experience. Oscar had a look of bemusement on his face even as he ran with the broad sword. It wasn’t an easy feat, swords were heavy as shit and had to be handled carefully, but the fellow hunter seemed to know his hunting grounds well. He must have patrolled the area frequently and Oscar was enjoying the show. As soon as he beheaded one zombie, another was lying in wake, read to attack. He had his largest blade at the ready should he see his brother in arms needed a hand from a bored beast hunter. With how he moved, it seemed redundant, but he was on standby, spectating until the zombie’s head fell to the ground. With a slow clap, he made his presence known. He emerged from behind a memorial and greeted, “I was hoping you’d need a hand, but clearly you’ve got it handled here.”

“I wouldn’t have had anyone to clap if you had hurt your hand in the process,” he deadpanned. Alain couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking with another slayer or not. He had never seen that person in town, and judging by the accent, he could assume that he was talking to someone who didn’t speak English as their first language. “I don’t think we’ve met before,” he rubbed his hand against his shirt to wipe it cleaner before holding it out, “Alain Babineaux, I… well, take care of the dead things in town.” Having introduced himself, he waited for the other to do the same.

Deadpan snark. Oscar liked this slayer already. His lack of subtlety and inclination toward humor mirrored his own. “I try to be a good audience where I can,” he joked. Nothing was ever quite as thrilling as getting in on the fight, but he’d hate if an outsider took his kill from him. While he’d never been prim and proper, he did have decent enough manners to introduce himself once Alain brought it up. “I’m Oscar Fuchs. New to town, but I take care of the more furry varieties.” The familiar ring of his last name dawned on him. If he recalled correctly, they were wealthy hot-shots and respected slayers. “Babineaux. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name. Always good to meet a Slayer who’s worth his salt. You always this discreet when hunting?”

“I can see that,” his blade cleaned up, the hunter put it back into its sheath, and the rag back in his pocket. The name of the other man did not ring a bell, but if he was, as Alain expected, a foreigner, it was not surprising. Having lived in White Crest his whole life, he never really got to meet many hunters out there. Still, the man seemed to know who the Babineaux were. “Beast hunter, huh? I see,” he nodded in appreciation. “Well, if you heard the name, you must know that we’re worth our salt. “ Pursing his lips to the side, Alain wondered whether he should reply to that last comment. No, hunting with a sword was not discreet, but he never really had problems with that, and he knew best that to keep his long sword in catacombs or narrow places. But cemeteries? Swords were great here. “What is a beast hunter doing here, then? Admiring the superiority of slayers?” Chuckling, he walked past him to get to his bag. “Care for a drink?” Either coffee or bourbon, he could provide.

There was a certain comradery between hunters that Oscar had always enjoyed. He’d yet to make his way to the Silver Bullet, but he was sure he’d be right at home the moment he walked in the door. While wardens, slayers, and beast hunters all had their respective strengths, their goals were much the same. Make the world a safer place for humans. Noble goals didn’t mean he couldn’t at least have a little fun with the job. “Yeah, not quite as many good hunting nights a month, but we try to make ‘em count,” he joked and added, “If I had any doubt before, I definitely don’t now.” His own arsenal was hardly discreet either, but there was something very classic about a sword. Back in the day, he had a silver one he loved wielding, but he found knives and guns to be more practical to his type of hunting. “Ha,” he retorted with a laugh, “Superior might be a bit of a stretch. You ever seen a berserker? Those bad boys make zombies look like toddlers. I’m mostly just getting a lay of the land. Never did like waiting between full moons.” At the mention of a drink, he nodded and answered, “A drink sounds great.” Would pair perfectly with another smoke. “I’m quickly learning this town is full of rare species. What’s the craziest thing you’ve seen here?”

Alain wondered if it was the local werewolf population that had brought Oscar to move to White Crest, or something else, such as the series of eerie events that had been striking the town lately. Either way, another hunter would never be too much. “Mmh, don’t tell me you only hunt on the full moon,” probably not. Alain did not envy beast hunters. They had to know many more creatures than he did, and werewolves were no joke. Some vampires either, but at least, he did not have to clean up bodies. “Glad I could make doubt disappear,” he knew how unconventional it was to stick to swords when stakes were lighter, but you could kill more creatures by removing their heads, and he would rather be efficient than smooth. “Really? Guess I’ll call you for the next Elder I find then. We wouldn’t want you to get bored between two full moons,” chuckling, he approached his things, taking out a thermos and a metal bottle, along with two cups,” he poured bourbon in both cups, although he added coffee on top of his. “Mmh, let me think,” scratching at the back of his head, certainly the squid was high on the list, but he remembered a penanggal he’d had the misfortune to cross paths with a few years back. It was his first and he hoped it would be his last encounter with that thing. Creepy fucker. “You ever seen a penanggal?”

There were some hunters out there that stuck to hunting on the full moon, but Oscar could never be one of those hunters. His hands were always itching to get their hands on some sort of monster. The job wasn’t all noble intentions, he was allowed to have a little fun with it too. Either way, he was keeping people safe. With a hearty laugh, he answered, “Oh no, I’d probably go crazy if I just waited for full moons. Seems like this town has enough beasts to keep anyone busy.” Tomorrow he’d probably go deep in the woods again. He’d familiarized himself with enough terrain that he wasn’t too worried about getting to know his current locale. If the need arose, he’d kill whatever supernatural creature came his way. He hadn’t personally come across an elder, but that wouldn’t stop him from helping to get rid of it. “Please do call me if come across an Elder. Sounds like one hell of a fight. Plus, it’s good to get a little versatility in the hunting department.” He took a seat on a small stone bench when Alain handed him some bourbon. He took a good sip before lighting up his cigarette. With a content sigh, he mused, “If there’s one thing Americans got right, it's bourbon.” He listened closely as Alain talked about the craziest thing he’d seen in White Crest. His eyes widened and he looked somewhat in awe. “A penanggal? I’ve read about them before, but never seen one in person. Based on the drawing they’re creepy looking der fickers.” He took a huff of a his cigarette and asked, “How’d that one go?”

“Yeah, considering the amount of creatures we have roaming around, I think it’s safe to say that nearly no one chooses to hunt once a month,” older hunters or those with children to raise sometimes made that choice, but other than that… Alain wondered for how long Oscar had been in town, and whether he was aware or not of which places were to be avoided. “Well don’t hesitate if you need information on some areas. I know most of these places quite well,” and there were some even he avoided. The hunter’s enthusiasm at the idea of fighting an Elder brought a smile on the slayer’s face. Chuckling, he nodded, “I can confirm, those are really not fun to fight alone,” in fact, trying to go solo would result in death in most cases. “Yeah, I only get versatile when hunters need a hand with something. Otherwise, I leave beasts to you guys, and faes to wardens,” he had enough to deal with undead creatures alone. His mixture of coffee and bourbon managed to do its work, and he matched the other man’s sigh. “Ah, I knew you weren’t from around here. Germany, correct?” Not many places on this side of the ocean spoke German, and he could assume that the man was European. “Well… I can confirm that they look as creepy as they look disgusting,” and it took a lot to disgust most hunters. “I am more in favor of decapitation so that was not a great time for me. You never want to know what it’s like to hold something down by holding their trachea,” sniffing, he added, “I’ve heard hunters claim that they saw and fought many things over the years, Teke-Tekes, that thing “Taratata” or whatever, Fexts, you name it,” he rubbed his eyes. If he hadn’t met those last three creatures, he believed that some had. This town just was this bad.

“Haven’t gotten to see too many of them yet, but I look forward to it. I always welcome a new challenge. I’ve actually seen my first ever bies since getting here,” Oscar explained with a hint of mischief in his eyes. Sacred duty didn’t have to be all serious and dire all the time. Having fun with it was what made him damn good at it. Hell, he was nearing 53 and he was still alive. That was quite the feat in his profession. He took a long drag from his cigarette and leaned back against the cool stone bench. Most found cemeteries to be eerie, but he knew the truth. They could be downright dangerous, but he loved the high each fight brought him. “Good to know, I’ll keep that in mind while exploring the area. Hoping my nephew will show me around, too, once he’s over this flu he has.” He sipped on his whiskey as Alain shared the story of the penanggal. Fighting one alone. “Damn,” he started with a hint of awe in his voice, “Trick to take those on alone. I’ll say it-- I’m impressed.” It made sense for slayers and wardens to stick more to their focus, they were out at all times of the month. Sure, there were plenty of beasts besides werewolves, but vampires weren’t all that rare. Considering he was a bar fly on the nights he wasn’t hunting, he ran into his fair share. Drunks were easy targets for a meal he assumed. “Beasts can be pretty versatile in their own right, but I enjoy the fight. If it’s discernibly supernatural, it’s worth taking on in my book.” Fae were trickier and undead not quite as fun to fight, but each kill made the world just a little bit safer for humans. It was hard to feel bad about finding it fun. At the end of the day, he was still helping people and honoring his family’s code. “Yes, I’m from Bad Wimpfen. Spent a good amount of time in Lyon, France, too. Spent the past decade doing a fair bit of traveling to different hotspots.” Though this current town was in part influenced by Kaden being here. Yeah, he’d chosen not to start a family of his own, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like having close connections. Kaden was the closest living family he had left. While Alain didn’t seem a fan of how gross they were, he thought it sounded like a grand time. Getting a little messy never bothered him. “Could see how that’d be unpleasant. Decapitation is cleaner. Beast hunting is always a little dirty though. Never seen a fext either though undead seems more your ball park as the Americans say. Stryga I’ve seen a lot of. Bies is one of the more rare one I’ve seen. Wolf actually got away from me because I had to be more concerned about the ficken bies,” he’d refrained from mentioning that Kaden let the wolf get away. “Had to kill a volmugger once in Barcelona, too, though I had help with that one. Gotta love a beast with range attacks.”

Alain, who had never taken the time to really learn the name of most beasts that weren’t good enough for the ring, or undead, looked at Oscar with a slightly puzzled look on his face. It didn’t help that he heard bees instead of bies, and so it took him a small moment to understand that Oscar was not excited about pollinators. “Well, you’re in for a wild ride,” he patted the man’s arm and sat down on the bench with his cup still in hand. “Oh, you have some family in town, alright,” the slayer tried to think of other German hunters he might have met, but could not think of one that was still alive. Well, you could not know everyone. Truth was, Alain had fought the penanggal a while ago with his sister, Valérie, but he had no plans whatsoever starting to talk about his family, especially with someone who seemed familiar with the name. Either way, Alain would probably have been unable to get rid of such a creature these days. He hated to admit it, but if he had gotten a lot more experienced, there were things he could not pull off anymore. He brushed off the compliment and leaned back against the bench, sighing. “Yeah, I actually worked a few years for a fighting ring, catching beasts and…” And often fighting them too. He could see now how stupid this was, and how stupid he’d been then, still, he could not help but have some fond memories from that place, or the people he had met there. Thoughts of Audrey brought a sad smile to his face, which would be when he decided to talk instead of think. “I stick to the undead now. It’s a whole lot less messy,” he rubbed at his nose, thoughtful. “You have to be kidding me,” Alain himself was technically born in Lyon, and he knew of another hunter that was from that same city. “Well, I can’t wait to tell Kaden I met his uncle,” he shook his head, amused. Considering how things had been lately, Alain was not sure if he wanted to say anything about the younger hunter, still, he did, “Took him some time to adjust to the town, but it’s good to have him around here.” With those words, Alain finished his cup and put it down on the bench. Now little did Alain know that those bees Oscar kept mentioning were the exact thing he caught a glimpse of while repairing Jared Gordon’s tractor. “Well your face doesn’t look too bad for someone who fought one of those horrors.” It took a lot for Alain to feel revulsed, but this, it could make him feel this way. He could still remember the smell of flesh melting after having been hit with the acid of that beast. Fucking foul.

A wild ride was exactly what Oscar was looking for outside of getting some time to reconnect with Kaden. He knew the younger hunter was more than capable, but it was hard to not worry just a little bit while he was living in a hotspot. Charles and Lauren would have wanted him to keep an eye out on their kid and there was no denying the fact he cared for Kaden. “Wild rides are the only ones I like,” he joked before responding, “Yeah, nephew lives here… well, kid of some good friends mine. He’s always called me Uncle Oscar and it’s been over thirty years so I think family covers it for most.” It wasn’t all that complicated of a situation. Still, it felt weird that he of all people took in a teenager way back when. He never had kids of his own because he knew he’d be a shit dad, but he tried to do right by Kaden. A brow raised at the mention of a fighting ring that captured beasts. He sure as hell hoped those beasts ended up dead though Alain didn’t elaborate. It seemed to be a thing of the past and Oscar wasn’t one to force people dredge up their pasts. “Sounds like quite a gig,” he simply commented. Not quite his style. He preferred killing beasts outright over capturing them, but it probably meant Alain was a hell of a fighter. Plus, it wasn’t always the easiest to find odd jobs that worked in between hunting duties. He took another sip of whiskey and smiled brightly realizing this man knew Kaden. “Ah, good to know he’s made some friends here. Keep bugging him to take me to that hunter bar.” He nodded along, this town was strange and surely took some getting used to, but at least Kaden made connections with other hunters. It really helped in the staying alive department. “Makes sense, this place seems like quite the ride.” Considering the wolf and the bies, he was in pretty good shape. Kaden had gotten the brunt of the wolf’s attack. The loud sounds of gunfire had been enough to keep the bies from getting too close. He still cursed the fact the Krieg wolf got away, but he could understand Kaden’s instinct to protect him. “Thankfully, it didn’t get too close to me and I knew not to look in its eye. No new facial scars from that one,” he noted with a laugh. As badass as facial scars looked, they were an annoyance as they healed. He finished off his own cup and said, “Well, Alain, it’s been good meeting you. We should get together again some time, probably with Kaden. I suppose I should let you get back to beheading the undead.”

#wickedswriting #walk on the wild side #para #para oscar

10 notes · View notes