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creaturesandcomforts · 11 months

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The Spectrum || Metzli and Abigail

Timing: Present Parties: @muertarte and @creaturesandcomforts Summary: After finding themself overstimulated and stressed in a bar, Metzli makes their way out to the alley behind the establishment in hopes of finding some solitude. Abigail follows them outside to offer whatever help she can. Content Warnings: (suggested) Parental death tw

Why did bars have to be so loud? Even at the Bloody Stake, the patrons there tended to be a little…rambunctious. A little too loud for Metzli’s taste. Still, they were trying to expand their horizons so they could give Leila more experiences. So they didn’t get so caught up with the idea that there was an abundance of people around them when they should be focusing on the fun they could be having. It was a difficult task, though. People who were bumping into them and spilling bits of their drink on the section of the bar they were sitting at. It made it sticky. Not a good sensation. Very much not a good sensation.

Rocking back and forth for a few moments in hopes of the chill passing, Metzli swallowed the last of their drink and rose rather harshly. Their stool screeched back, and yet another patron bumped into them. They couldn’t hold back at that point. A growl rumbled in their throat and they bared their fangs at the offender, immediately weaving through the crowd to get to the back exit.

Metzli pushed the door open harshly, practically throwing it off of its hinges. The cool air welcomed them, as did the silence when the door closed behind the vampire. With a sigh, they leaned against the cold brick of the bar’s building and sucked in a breath. They were done trying to be normal, that much was certain.

In the hopes of finding a good drink outside of her workplace, Abigail forced herself to head to The Bloody Stake. If not for the plugs in her ears, she was sure she would’ve immediately turned around and left. She sat alone in a booth with a drink in her hands, eyes scanning the patrons who drank and enjoyed themselves with few cares in the world, but one figure immediately stood out. She recognized many people in town, but what got her attention was the fact that Metzli was here on their own volition, without somebody to encourage them to spend their time somewhere so public. From what little she knew about them, drinking in a loud bar was out of character, if not an agonizing idea.

Abigail continued to watch them silently from a distance as they were bumped into and jostled. Just as she stood to go help them, they appeared to have threatened somebody and made their way to the exit. She took a moment to adjust her jacket and her mask, before moving to follow them, walking through the crowd with the sturdiness of a brick wall given human form.

Not too long after the door closed behind Metzli, Abigail forced it back open and made her way through, before turning around to slowly close it behind her. As her attention returned to Metzli, she kept her distance, observing them for a few seconds before attempting to communicate and offer them some help. They looked stressed, particularly overstimulated, that was something she could help with. As a gesture of kindness and good faith, she pulled a small plastic box from her pocket, revealing that it was filled with disposable foam ear plugs as she offered it to them with a gentle tilt of her head.

The door opened almost as soon as it shut, and the thought of someone infringing on their space made Metzli almost growl aloud. Anxiety swelled in their chest, and they were on the verge of breaking into a sprint until they saw who opened the door. The bunny mask was an undeniable tell. “Abigail.” They swallowed, trying to keep from shaking from the overstimulation. It was embarrassing, really. For someone who could slaughter a whole town, it was ridiculous that a little too much noise and people could take them down so easily.

But it appeared Abigail understood the weakness, and she was offering a bit of help to alleviate the pain. “What is this?” Metzli had never seen ear plugs before, but they took the box to inspect. Looking to and from Abigail and the box, they’re brows scrunched together as they shook out a few of the items inside. It took some finagling with only one hand, but a few tumbled onto Metzli’s palm. The cone shape gave no indication as to what Abigail was giving to them, and they looked absolutely perplexed as they met their eyes with her mask. Metzli knew Abigail didn’t speak, so they opted to request a visual explanation instead. “Show me how to use?”

With a small nod to confirm her identity, Abigail reached out to grab one of the plugs, before squeezing it tightly with two fingers, making a show of doing so to properly display the use. It felt a bit silly, but she'd already committed to helping, regardless of how much she felt like she was acting in an infomercial. She then pointed to her ear with the plug, gesturing as if she was putting it in without actually doing it, so she could return the earplug to the container.

After taking a deep breath, realizing that her instructions might be insufficient, Abigail took a step closer to Metzli, gesturing for them to do the same with a single pale finger. "Closer… I'll help." She spoke in a near-whisper, her voice raspy and hardened from a lack of frequent use. Luckily for her, Metzli probably already felt as uncomfortable in the bar as she did when speaking around others, and Metzli wasn't just somebody else, they were like her, dark and warm.

The fact that Abigail had to use her voice to help made Metzli’s stomach drop uncomfortably. There was a reason she hid behind a mask and used computers to speak for her. Their stupidity had forced her into a state of discomfort, and they were wracking their mind for a way to make it up to her. Repay her in some form of kindness. “Am sorry.” Metzli bowed their head, watching the eyes of Abigail’s mask as she drew closer. They were dark and familiar, somehow warm in the void of light.

“Friend gift me headphoneys for noise, but wanted to try being normal on my own. Not know what is wrong with me.” The disappointment was hardly noticeable to anyone that didn’t know the vampire, but it was there all the same. Metzli didn’t mind how they looked with large cups over their ears. They rather enjoyed it, actually. Most people tended to avoid them and that was an additional perk that they loved. But Leila was outgoing and kind and deserved to be able to venture out for activities without needing to accommodate them. So, Metzli tried. It wasn’t working, but they tried.

“Thank you for help.”

"You don't need to apologize to me. I am responsible for my own existence." Abigail offered a nod of understanding in return, taking note of their words. They knew of their problems but not the causes of them, a position she'd been in many times throughout the course of her life, and they would remain standing just as they would on the other side of the discovery, whatever it may be. With a slightly louder voice, she spoke again, her voice cracking slightly as the words slipped from her lips. "Nothing is wrong with you. Having unique needs doesn't make you lesser than others."

Abigail knew that now was when she should give a supportive gesture of some kind. A shoulder pat, a hug, something like that, but it was too far a leap, especially with how overwhelmed they both probably were in the moment. She hoped that for once, her fractured words would be enough. It was clear that she wanted to help in some other way, however, she was painfully aware of her limitations. "If you want your friend to feel comfortable. they probably want the same for you. I don't like loud places either, if it's any consolation."

“Not think am lesser. Actually think am too much.” Which was ironic because Metzli had never been enough. Their pitiful excuse of existence, as their parents called it, had only been remarkable once. The day they were born. And even then, there were two caveats. One, Metzli wasn’t born on their own, and two, it was arguably the day that their father rued the most. Of that fact, Baltazar Bernal made sure his child knew. Too much or too little, Metzli could never get it right. Never learned to be enough or just right. They were starting to think they never would.

“Always like this. In trouble a lot as child. Never change. Is why Honey help me at your business.” There was a tinge of guilt in that fact, knowing they had burdened yet another with their needs. If Honey was ever annoyed, she never made it known, but there was always that fear resting in the back of Metzli’s mind. Always waiting for the ball to drop. “You are maybe right.” They sighed, shrugging, “Is why she got me the headphoneys, I think. She is very nice. Not understand how she can take the loud. Is always so pinche loud…”

Grumbling, Metzli rubbed their eye with the their knuckle and refocused on Abigail, who had a similar overwhelmed body language as them. They weren’t sure if the same things grounded her, but there was no better way to find out than with direct communication. “Would you like to squeeze my hand?” They pocketed the earplugs and extended their hand, face and voice dry as ever. “You can say no. Not offend. Trying to help.”

"You seemed to enjoy yourself, maybe even more so with Honey's presence. A support system is not a bad thing to have if you're looking to try new things." Abigail offered a simple shrug after she spoke, listening to them talk in return about another of their friends. This person sounded a bit like Honey, at least when it came to being more accommodating and caring than most. It was pleasant to hear that there were many out there who were willing to meet people like them halfway without making them feel lesser. "Your friend sounds… kind."

Taken off guard by Metzli's offer, Abigail fell silent, her mouth slightly open as if she was hoping for a proper response to flow out as effortlessly as they seemingly did for everybody else, but nothing of the sort was heard. She felt like a fool, stunned by the most simple gesture of kindness like it was the first time anybody had been nice to her. After clearing her throat and taking a deep breath, she simply nodded and reached forward to grab Metzli's hand. Their skin was… pleasantly cool, as was her own, one of the several perks that death brought her physiology. "Thank you." She whispered with a strange warmth to her shy tone.

“Honey was first friend. Reason I escape where I was.” Metzli’s eyes grew distant, glazing over as they stared through the intertwined hands. They nodded absentmindedly, almost missing Abigail’s gratitude. “Friend is kind. I like her. She explains many things to me.” Abigail’s skin was definitely cold, and they’d felt it before during the dance, but there was so much going on that Metzli missed it for the most part. Was Abigail a vampire too?

Thoughts of a kinder, more free clan came to mind; something Sofie surely would want. They could introduce the vampire to her, but like Leila, Abigail could be a completely different kind of undead. So, what was she? Metzli bowed their head, giving Abigail’s hand an experimental squeeze. “Welcome.” They loosened their grip, giving Abigail the option to keep their hands together or release them. “May I ask what you are?”

"As all friends should be." Abigail offered a small nod as if she completely understood, however, she had yet to fully process what Metzli had said. Once she finally did, it became agonizingly difficult to not ask for clarification about just where Metzli had escaped from. It was impossible to tell from behind her mask, but she was fighting an intense internal battle about whether to mind her own business or search for the potentially juicy details. Luckily for her, a distraction was thrown at her by Metzli in the form of their own question.

Abigail assumed that the loosened grip was a signal that she should let go, a signal she was grateful for, since she didn't have to worry about lingering for too long. She had no idea that it was just an option, but reading social cues had never been her strong suit, hence why she avoided non-business-related social interactions. Their question gave her pause, specifically about what exactly it was that they meant to ask. Did Metzli want to know what type of creature she was, or did they want to know what she was in a more philosophical sense? Nono, that certainly couldn't have been it. After a moment of awkward silence, she responded bluntly and honestly, as was natural for her. "I am a Fury, have been for 10 years. What are you?"

That was different. Metzli had never heard of furies. Mares, vampires, and zombies? Yeah, those were common to them, as they’d caught a few mares themself when they traveled around Mexico, even discovering that they’d been fed on for a time in their early youth. “What is a Fury?” They titled their head like a curious pup, staring intensely at the eyes of Abigail’s mask. There were more questions that followed the first, though they figured it’d be best to hold back. Their brain on the other hand, didn’t care about that.

“How does creation happen? Do you feed on people? What powers do you have?” More questions wanted to tumble out, but Metzli managed to stop themself. They looked up, tapping their foot nervously. They knew they had overstepped, likely overwhelming Abigail. It wasn’t fair of them to do that to her. “Apology to you. Was too curious.” Their thumb rubbed against their index finger, the friction a calming sensation.

Abigail couldn’t help but let a soft, genuine chuckle escape her in response to Metzli’s burst of curiosity. It was refreshing to know that she wasn’t the only one who had a hard time bottling up what would normally make others uncomfortable. “Don’t apologize. I’m happy to answer your questions, so long as my answers stay mostly between the two of us.” She’d never had to explain what she was to somebody before, since most of the time the people that she had told what she was either didn’t care or already knew the answer to that question.

“To my knowledge, I was made when I was killed and brought back to life due to an intense desire for revenge against my murderer.” Her answer spilled forth before the memory of what happened could cloud her mind, flashes of blood with a distant echo of screaming leaving her momentarily distracted. There was no way in hell she’d go into detail about her death, not with how angry just the thought alone made her. There were times that Abigail wished that the memories could make her sad instead, that she could cry about what she’d been forced to do, but all she could manage to muster towards her final moments was rage.

The silence that filled the air during Abigail’s distant thoughts wasn’t strange for her. Only after realizing her moment of weakness did she take a quiet breath and return to her explanation. Metzli had been waiting patiently, so she didn’t want to keep them waiting longer. “I can alter reality to fulfill the desires of somebody with a strong enough need for vengeance, which is how I ‘feed’.”

“Secrets are safe with me.” They promised, happy to see Abigail seemed to actually enjoy Metzli’s curiosity.

The fury’s explanation was full of sorrow and intrigue. Her world delved into dimensions and alternate universes. What she could do sounded like it came straight out of a comic book. At that point, Metzli knew this because Cass had given them plenty of reading material to study. Abigail was similar to the Scarlet Witch in that regard, and only that regard. Metzli hadn’t read too much about the witch’s backstory, but they had a feeling she wasn’t murdered by someone and resurrected by the sheer will for vengeance.

“Interesting.” Abigail’s silence didn’t spark anything in Metzli. They didn’t see anything wrong with a few breaths between sentences. Most of the time, they welcomed such a reprieve, and in that moment, they did. There was no concept of Abigail being weak or strange. Just two quiet people being…well, quiet.

“Do you sense anger for when you need to find food? Like…” Metzli tapped their chin, thinking of a similar experience of theirs. “I can smell very good. Smell blood. How do you find meal?”

“I feel anger and the desire for revenge when they’re strong enough in somebody.” Taking another moment to gather her thoughts, Abigail lifted her head to glance up at the night sky, if only briefly. She found the stars quite pretty, especially the constellations within them, but that was something she could focus on later. She’d finally found the words she was searching for so intensely. “I feel it like when you put your hand near a closed oven, almost like rippling waves.”

If she were in Metzli’s place, Abigail would want them to explain everything as best as she could, leaving her with an underlying worry of not saying enough to satiate their hungry curiosity. Of course, she was worried about everything at all times, so what was one more concern among so many others. “Unlike others, I try to be helpful with my abilities. I don’t offer help to those who will be harmed by the outcome. At least, I try not to. I’ve been… tricked before.”

The more Abigail spoke, the more Metzli’s heart wanted to bleed the blues with the broken strings that made up their heart. Ultimately, they felt nothing. Despite not knowing Abigail very well, they knew she deserved more than that, deserved for the ache of empathy so she wouldn’t have to be alone. Death was painful, a never ending darkness that most only got to experience once. But not them.

Metzli supposed, in a way, they were lucky in spite of the pain. There was a second chance they now had, a new purpose. They hadn’t found theirs yet, something outside the clan, but it looked to them that Abigail had one. A merciful one. “That is noble. I am sorry you were tricked.” Metzli’s brows cinched together as they strung their words together to voice their thought. “I guess you…you cannot feel anything from me then?” They had an inkling of a feeling she wouldn’t detect anything even if they had a hatred for Eloy and his teachings. Nothing begets nothing, and Metzli was filled with nothing. Emotions were a fickle thing, always fleeting away.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.” Abigail knew that they weren’t apologizing out of guilt, rather, they were doing so out of some kind of sympathy, but she couldn’t help but clear away the compassionate words. It was her failure, with repercussions that she had to fight through on her own to make up for her stupidity. There were few things that she’d done that she was overly hard on herself about, and letting somebody deceive her into cursing herself was certainly among the worst of them. “It was my fault, but now I know to be more careful.”

“I feel something coming off you, but it’s not enough that you would stand out in a crowd from feeling alone.” There was something especially subdued about the way Metzli seemed to feel, like their ability to feel their hatred was less than most. In all honesty, they would be more likely to stand out in this town from a lack of anger than an excess, but there was no way Abigail would tell them that. If they were anything like her, knowing that they’d stand out in a crowd was not information that would be helpful or wanted. “When I’m looking to feed, normally it’s off of people who have an incredibly fresh and deep need for revenge.”

Standing out in a crowd when it pertained to feelings being sensed didn’t seem so bad. For the vampire, it would be even further confirmation that something lay beneath the surface. But, much to Metzli’s dismay, there was something still subduing it all. They wanted to feel sad about that, or at the very least frustrated, but nothing sparked. Nothing. As always. Fitting for something as insignificant as them.

“Has sense.” Metzli nodded, expression unchanging as they swallowed. “I already have my revenge. Nothing to do now but…exist.” Looking off into the night, Metzli cleared their throat, taking in how much calmer they felt than before. Maybe it was time to depart. Try again another time. “Think I should go home. Do you want to come with?” They squeezed their hands closed repeatedly, eager to hear Abigail’s response. “Can show you my dog. Art too.”

“I get it. Everything feels like getting revenge will fix the hurt, but it just leaves the hole behind where that rage once sat. Nothing tells you how to fill it.” Abigail’s revenge on her killer had left her a husk, lost with anger that drowned her with no escape. It should have made her feel ecstatic, or fulfilled, but it didn’t, it never did, and her job now was to teach others that it would do the same to them. What a strange role it was, to guide others to a well of possibilities only to have them drink it and realize that it was filled with salt, leaving them wanting more despite already having all that they could. It was a special hell just for her, with the cost of immortality being that she had to be both the teacher and the torturer.

“Nothing to do now but live. That hole in your heart won’t mend itself, only you and time can do that.”

That wasn’t a realization that gave her pause though. Abigail was constantly aware of the position she held, painfully so, but she never let it stop her. If she suddenly stopped, she would starve, and lessons would go unlearned, so onwards she continued, never to stop, much like a shark, her second favorite animal. Dogs were okay though. “Sure, I’d love to see your art, and your dog. Want to ride with me and give me directions, or would you rather walk?” Abigail rocked on the heels of her thick combat boots, jostling the strange alley water as she did so, creating small ripples. In reality, she paid no mind to the light splashing of the water even though she normally would, because something more promising and interesting had her undivided attention.

Metzli nodded along to Abigail’s words, finding comfort in the way she explained. There was a hidden pain that wove itself around each syllable, and they closed their eyes to listen fully. There was always a burden with these things, the purpose of one’s ascension to a new species. Much like a heart, it bore a weight that few wanted to carry, but did so anyway. There was no other choice. Metzli knew better than anyone that that right was taken away the moment they died. Regardless of the second chance they got, it didn’t feel like a fair trade, but there was nothing to do but make it work.

“I drove here.” Their eyes scanned down to their hands, which were still trembling. As much as Metzli didn’t want to leave their car somewhere overnight, they thought perhaps it was best if they didn’t drive. “I ride with you and show you directions.” Closing their hands into fists and pocketing them, Metzli tensed and released their shoulders, looking to Abigail. She was easy to be around. “Where is your car?”

Abigail let out a soft chuckle in response to the assumption they’d made. She couldn’t blame them, after all she would’ve assumed the same thing from somebody who offered her a ride. Slowly, she walked with them to the parking lot, and corrected their guess with a simple gesture towards the motorcycle she’d ridden to the bar. “Not a car. Sorry to disappoint.” Despite her somewhat monotone manner of speaking, she intended for it to sound a bit teasing and sarcastic, even if it didn’t sound that way. Things she said rarely came out the way she wanted them to. After all, that was most of the reason she tried her best to avoid talking.

Before she could consciously give it a second thought, Abigail retrieved the helmet hanging from one of the handlebars and tossed it over to Metzli. Cool people did that in movies all the time, she thought, before she realized mid air that Metzli might not be able to catch it without warning. Unfortunately it was out of her hands now, both literally and metaphorically, leaving their safety up to them. If anything, it would be an interesting test of vampiric reflexes.

It was difficult to discern why Abigail would think a motorcycle would be disappointing. Really, Metzli just felt foolish for assuming her mode of transportation. But there was something subtle in Abigail’s voice. A minute slip in the monotone that sounded as if she might have spoken with the smallest of smiles. In other words, Metzli understood she was joking. This, along with the toss of the helmet brought a smile to their lips, and they caught the helmet with one hand.

“I have never feel so much disappointment.” They returned her sarcasm, offering her safety equipment back. “Have no need for this. Safe without it.” Metzli watched Abigail take perch on the bike, and they mimicked her movements, wrapping their arm around her waist as they had seen in movies. Sure, it was used as a safety measure, but there was usually an undertone of affection to it. Though that wasn’t the case for the two undead.

The engine roared to life, and Metzli leaned forward to secure themself, watching as the light disappeared behind them. The chilly evening air blew away everything, even their thoughts. Which wasn’t good considering they were supposed to be giving Abigail directions. Oh well, Metzli thought. The two could enjoy the air a little longer.

#interactions #writings #Abigail #Metzli #parental death tw #the spectrum

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