Daryl Dixon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dirtyredneck) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2017-05-11 10:38 pm
dirtyredneck) wrote in undergrounds2017-05-11 10:38 pm
Entry tags:
[Closed] Steel to my tremblin' lips
How did the night ever get like this? (May 11; Full Moon; for Fun Ghoul)
He wasn't trying to make it a habit to be out in the parks wolves liked to frequent during the full moon, but this one was close to home and he'd thought it was safe. Turns out a certain pup didn't get the unwritten memo and had decided to come sniffing around.
In Daryl's territory.
Letting out a low growl, Daryl approached the wolf - on the ground this time - attempting to warn him off from going any deeper into the scattered woods. This place was his hunting grounds and very much off limits.
One shot and the whiskey goes down, down, down (May 15; for Jean-Claude)
Guilty Pleasures still made him nervous to go to. Still too many bodies on display in ways his brother would have been hootin' and hollerin' about. Still too few places to slink off and be left alone at without having a perfectly good view of the stage. Sure, he knew that was the point, but that didn't stop it from making his fur stand on end. And of course there was Jean-Claude.
Jean-Claude and his office where the door could be shut and they'd be the only two people in the room. Just him and the vampire who always looked like his clothes had to be poured onto him with how tight they were. Well, mostly the pants. But that was enough.
Jean-Claude who smiled at him and looked at him like he was worth looking at. Jean-Claude who he didn't know if he was just another conquest to toy around with or not. And him. Daryl. Not sure if that was enough of a turn off not to try and go for it.
Also not the reason he came all this way.
Daryl took a deep breath and when the office door was opened for him, squared his shoulders and entered with head high. Like he wasn't walking into a snake's nest and could be bit at any time. Even if the biting would come from an awfully nice mouth he'd had far too many dreams about doing things it really shouldn't be.
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He stood up, stretched, and padded the five or six inches it took to get into the kid's face. One paw came up - claws in - to press lightly against Ghoul's cheek. The paw was damn near the size of a human palm (minus the fingers) and he was gentle enough with the touch.
"I got ya pretty good right here, though. Shallow. Stopped bleeding hours ago. But you should be careful or it'll scar."
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Maybe he was the only one to get hurt this time (as proven by the paw against his cheek, which makes it twinge a bit), but that's this time. He despises the fact that there will always be a next time. Someone's luck is bound to run out. Maybe Daryl's, maybe somebody else's. It's the worst kind of waiting game, and all he can do is give Daryl a tense, sad little smile as he reaches up and lightly strokes the fur behind one of his ears in a silent apology.
He doesn't stay silent for long, of course. "I like cats better when they don't run their fuckin' mouths." There, sass is better. He can handle that like a pro. "A gnarly lookin' scar might be kinda cool, though."
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"I like pups better when they ain't tryin' to act bigger than they are," he returned and moved away several feet before shaking his body again and transforming back to human. Unlike many a shifter, his clothes came with him. A boon from a fae that he was grateful for. Came in handy in times like these.
He stood up and stretched, "Wasn't plannin' on staying out all night. Got a kid back home who's probably tearin' up the place. You safe to walk?"
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That won't do.
Step one is pushing himself up to sit, and he does so with a sour look on his face. It doesn't feel good, but it's fine. The norm by now. He waves a hand dismissively. "I got it. Just gonna be slow." There are leaves stuck in his hair, and his face is scratched up and dirty; he is not going to be dragged out of here in addition to all that mess. "You better haul ass back home before she decides to make her own cereal or somethin'."
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