Mortified
| Mortified | |
|---|---|
"You're my best friend you utter dipshit." | |
| Players | Hyde Park Fresh off of learning The Truth, Gareth goes to confirm suspicions with a close friend. |
<TXT> From Gareth to Darwin: ARE YOU HOME <TXT> From Gareth to Darwin: BE HOME <TXT> From Darwin to Gareth: fuck <TXT> From Darwin to Gareth: hi what <TXT> From Darwin to Gareth: gar? <TXT> From Darwin to Gareth: gar are you okay?? Darwin does not get a *textual* response to his question as to Gareth's wellbeing. Instead, there's a loud banging on the door of his apartment. "DARWIN! YOU'D BETTER BE IN THERE." Assuming, of course, that Darwin is home. Gareth is clean! And washed! And he's rested, though the faint bags under his eyes give away that he *hadn't* been rested until recently. "DARWIN OPEN THE DOOR." Gareth is also holding a rolled up newspaper. Darwin is already on his way out, pulling his coat on, because that text was alarming enough to prompt SWIFT ACTION. He answers the door with some measure of relief on his face, tugging Gareth inside. "Hey! Gar, what's wrong? Keep it down, I'm gonna' get complaints again!" Gareth kicks the door shut behind him, his eyes bright with... anger, maybe? as he jabs at Darwin in the chest with the newspaper. "I have a question for you and I want an honest answer," he hisses, stalking after Darwin. Darwin reels back a few steps, palms up as he's jabbed. AHH NEWSPAPER. "W-what?" He gives his head a little shake. "Sure, Gar, honest answer. What's this about?" "Are you a werewolf?" Gareth demands to know, holding up the newspaper threateningly, pushing into Darwin's personal space. The raw shock on Darwin's face bleeds into a flicker of panic, and then a wobbly façade of outrage. The seconds matter here, and the icy plunge of guilt tightens his throat. "What?! Why the hell would you think-- /What/? Gar, why don't you sit down..." He nudges the newspaper aside. "Don't lie to me, Darwin," Gareth growls, waving the newspaper dangerously close to Darwin's nose. "Don't you dare lie to me. Is the thing you wanted to tell me that you get *hairy* when the *moon* comes out?" That sharp guilt again. Darwin's back to panicking, slowly backing up into his kitchenette. "I'm not lying to you, Gareth, I'm-- I'm just... concerned..." He locks eyes, and there's the creeping glimmer of silver around the edges of his irises. Gareth can feel a terrible tug in his heart, a rising pulse, the beginning of an /attempt/ at something. Bap! Gareth goes for the nose. "What are you doing?! Stop it! Concerned about what?! I'm not going to fucking hurt you, you asshole!" Says the man who just tried to bap Darwin on the nose with the newspaper. "I made jokes about *fleas*! The number of fucking *dog* jokes I made! Oh my *god* do you have *any* idea how fucking mortified I am right now?" That newspaper bap is enough to break Darwin's concentration, and the feeling dissipates as his eyes clear. Is this actually happening. Is he getting bonked with a fucking newspaper over his identity. There's too many emotions, and Darwin gets swept up in them, reeling from nearly inflicting a /friend/ with something. "Mortified? You're... embarrassed?" Darwin can barely keep up, oblivious at first. He folds both arms over his head, if only to partially obscure his watery eyes. "Because of your... dog jokes?" A weak smile tugs at his lips. "Seriously?" "Yes! I mean I'm also really fucking furious with you that you didn't tell me but I get that it's *personal*, god!" Gareth grouches, throwing his arms up in the air. His impromptu weapon goes flying, harmlessly bouncing off the couch. He pokes at Darwin's chest. "I made a *lot* of dog jokes, Darwin. And now I feel like a fucking racist." His eyes slide to the newspaper he was *literally* just beating Darwin with and he flushes. "Ignore that. Can you turn into a wolf?" he hisses. Darwin can only laugh, even if he doesn't quite mean to. "I'm sorry. Gar, I'm sorry. One thing at a time." He steps in to embrace Gareth, even as he's poked in the chest. "It's not racist. Fuck, shut up for five seconds and let me be happy that you're not running away. /Then/ you can be pissed." The questions go unanswered for the moment, Darwin's nerves very clear in how he trembles. "You're my best friend you utter dipshit," Gareth retorts, leaning into Darwin and dropping his head onto the other man's shoulder, his arms curling around him. "And that's not *fair*, I never shut up." Darwin laughs again, voice rough. "You do talk a lot," he agrees. "Listen... I thought the jokes were funny. Most of them. And I was planning on telling you, I really was. You're handling this better than I thought you would, to be honest." Eventually, the tremors leave his voice, and he draws back just enough cup Gareth's jaw in one hand. "Though I'm not happy that someone has apparently shared my business..." Gareth leans into Darwin's hand, giving him a steady look. "Firstly, no I definitely did not handle this well. I spent three days awake trying to figure out how so many people were missing but not missing and then I thought it was either a Russian plot or I was *actively* losing my mind so I went to a friend who turns out to know... things... and he told me about... stuff. It's a bit of a blur." He rubs at his head, taking a breath. "But no he did not tell me about you, I just..." he flushes. "I asked him if werewolves were real and he said yes and you already knew *stuff* about Miel so I thought you were probably involved, and you know what you are really fucking unsubtle. Your couch is always covered in dog hair, you make your own fucking dog jokes *all the time*, you really like licking which god that should have clued me in sooner but *in my defense* 'werewolves are real' wasn't on my radar until yesterday." Darwin's turn to look incredibly embarrassed. He pinches the tip of his tongue between his teeth. Fucking betrayer tongue. "Russian plot," he repeats. "Mmm. I'm sorry that you thought you were losing your mind, Gar," he says, sincere. "I'm sorry for not being honest. I'm sorry for keeping you in the dark. But now you know. And there are many other dark corners here in Chicago. How thorough was your friend?" "Not at all," Gareth says with a helpless shrug. "Just that... y'know. *Other things* exist," he says, doing spooky hands. "And he's going to run me through the... Accords, to see if I want to sign it? I assume it's not a Honda," he muses. "To be honest though, Dar? I wanna know, I do. I wanna learn everything I can. But man, I'm just a guy whose super power is running away from trouble." Says the guy who bapped a werewolf with a newspaper. "I'm just going to live my life, and maybe be a *little* more careful about going down strange alleys with strange men." "The Twilight Accord is a set of laws shared between the weirdos here in the city. Also kind of shorthand for everyone involved in it. You might be glad to know that you're not the only human in the weeds." Darwin moves over to the couch, maybe to try and bait Gareth into sitting down. He remains on his feet, too wound up. "You're not /just/ a guy. You're the guy that saved my student and survived the crossfire of a werewolf pack." Gareth flops down onto the couch, his head rolling back. "Sit," he tells Darwin and then winces. "*Fuck*, I gotta stop doing that," he sort-of-apologises, looking at Darwin. "Wait, I did *what*?" he asks, his voice rising in pitch to a squeak. Darwin smirks, then SITS. Right beside Gareth. "Do you think the other weirdos don't make dog jokes? One of them recently threatened to get me a dog collar for Christmas." He leans forward on the fold of his arms, gaze drifting to settle on the books of occult stacked on his coffee table. "My student was a fount of essence. All you really need to know about that is that it made her incredibly valuable to other wolves. Bad wolves. You can't remember, because looking at wolves directly kinda' messes with your memories. But you were there, and you bled for me and my student. So I'll say it again, you're not just /some/ guy." "Yes *well* when I make jokes I like to know I'm making them," Gareth points out dryly. He lets out a low grumble, rubbing at his face with one hand. "God *that's* why you were so intent on looking after me," he mutters. He cycles through a pile of questions that are in his head. "I'll ask again. Can you turn into an *actual* wolf?" he wonders. Darwin doesn't answer right away, studying Gareth, perhaps wary of the dog jokes to come. "Yes. A wolf. Well, there's a range. And no, it's not because of the sight of a full moon." He pauses, then appends, "Not always." He squints. "You learned three days ago. Have you slept?" "Oh my god you *asshole*," Gareth grumbles, trying to punch Darwin's shoulder. The angle's all wrong and he's too close so it's like being tapped by a kitten's paw. "I love dogs, I've always loved dogs, but I am not allowed one in my apartment. You've been *denying* me wolf cuddles! Ugh that's unforgiveable, and yet I forgive you," he says magnanimously before he blinks back at Darwin. "Oh, no, I learned *yesterday* and then I went home and slept. So yes. I definitely, totally slept." For like four hours. Darwin is once more surprised by his own laughter. He catches Gareth's wrist. "You've been giving me /plenty/ of cuddles. And make no mistake," he begins, a little sharper but still smiling, "I'm not a /dog/. We're children of spirits, guardians of the Gauntlet." ... "But I didn't know you liked dogs. Now you really have to find me a good stick." He seems skeptical of Gareth's sleep claims but doesn't push it. He just tousles his already tousled hair. Gareth leans into Darwin's tousling hand, his eyes half closing. "Okay one day I'm going to ask what the Gauntlet is but I think my brain is overfull already," he says, pressing up against Darwin's side. "I know you're not a dog, I said *wolf* cuddles," he complains, peeking at Darwin through lidded eyes. "Though... I guess you said if I see you in..." he waves his free hand, trying to pick a word. "A different shape," he settles on. "It fucks with my memories." "Usually. Sometimes humans can manage to get away with their memories if they spot things from a distance, or if they can just... mentally muscle through it. Javi had seen the shape of something, enough that he suspected. The wolf shape-- the normal one-- doesn't fuck with memories. It's just the weird ones, and the act of shifting. And if you were to see me regenerate a limb or something." He perks. "But I can suppress that in you, at least for a little bit. I can loop you in with Javi. Convenient!" He holds Gareth against his side, rubbing down his shoulder. "Yeah, I bet this is... a lot." "Oh, so I *could* see you as a wolf, and it'd be okay," Gareth muses, resting his head on Darwin's shoulder. "Cool. I'd like see some day. If you'd be okay with that," he says hurriedly. "Is it offensive to ask? Oh cool! Javi knows? That's good, someone I can talk to about my troubles with being boring," he laughs quietly. Darwin grins. "You really wanna' see? Lincoln Park zoo has a good red wolf exhibit," he teases. "Sure, I'll show you when I'm sure the sight of me shifting won't induce anything bad in you." His smile softens, teeth setting against his bottom lip. "Gareth, /boring/? Not to get all sappy here but you've been my island in the storm, my anchor, my--" He breaks off, almost amused, glancing towards the ceiling. "Humans are so important to us that they are written into oaths we swear by. You'll find that with all these weirdos, humanity is the bedrock, the grounding aspect that we cleave to, lest we become the monsters in those campfire stories." "I mean I don't have to *watch* you shifting either, maybe it's really personal and you don't want me to see that," Gareth points out, waving a hand up at the ceiling, tracing constellations that only he can see. "Wow uh, that's really sweet," he says in a soft breath, his should bumping against Darwin. "I don't think you're a monster. I mean, unless you eat people and then I might be a little squeamish about it." "A little!" Darwin laughs. "That's... Okay. There are bad wolves. There's bad everything, really. There's probably some kind of bad version of the friend that clued you in. I don't eat people, that would be /bad/. But... I'm glad you seem... okay with me. I was kind of dreading this. Gar--" He slides off the couch onto his knees, facing Gareth, both hands on his shoulders. "You can't tell anyone who doesn't know already. Not your friends, not your partners, not your family, no one. You're no longer Herd, and this world is bigger than you know." Gareth meets Darwin's eyes, loosely resting his hands on Darwin's upper arms. "Okay *firstly* I resent being called 'Herd'," he sighs, rubbing reassuringly at Darwin's arms. "I'm not gonna tell anyone, jeez, Dar. You're my closet friend. There isn't really anyone else I *would* tell." His eyes skate aside at the mention of family, but he leaves it well enough alone. "Dar, I get it, you just wanna live your life. I just wanna live mine. I'm not out to *reveal* this big fucking secret to the world. First off they'd just shove me in a box. And second I have no desire to cause that kind of seismic shift in things. Fuck it'd tear the world apart. No thank you." Darwin blinks at that mild resentment, tilting his head. Like, what could possibly be wrong with HERD. But he seems convinced. He lowers his head, setting his brow against Gareth's knee. "Okay," he says, voice slightly muffled. "Good." He looks up. "...Now what?" he wonders, mostly to himself. "Oh, you should get yourself folded into the Accord. Somehow. I don't... really know how. You said your friend knows? You should talk to Javi, too." "Yeah, he's gonna help me go through the paperwork. I mean, I guess it's paperwork? Magical paperwork?" Gareth wonders, his hand coming to scritch at the back of Darwin's neck. "Okay one last question I promise and then I'll shut up," he says. "Uh... if you bite me does it turn me into a werewolf?" Yes, yes, yesss scritches. Darwin is so predictable here, shameless as he pushes into Gareth's touch. He manages to pull himself together after a few seconds, clearing his throat. "Hey, ask all you want." He grins. "I'm not gonna' bite you. There's a /chance/ that if bitten, and you have a severe reaction, you may become Wolf-Blooded, which is..." He pauses, mulling over how to explain it. "Werewolf-lite," he settles on. "It's rare. And just as rarely, Wolf-Blooded can become full wolves." After a pause, he winces. "I swear I'm not gonna' bite you like that," he assures, cheeks going red. "Huh," Gareth says, his tone thoughtful. "Hey, no, I know you're not gonna hurt me! I just wanted to check if we had to be... y'know... *careful* of those teeth there," he says, running his thumb along Darwin's jaw. Darwin waits there on his knees, still flushed red as Gareth clarifies what he suspected. "Yeah... I won't break skin." As nice as the touch on his jaw is, Darwin is officially too flustered to linger aound this topic. He pushes back to his feet, scooping up that rolled up newspaper. "You came over here to bap me with a newspaper, just so we're both clear on what happened here." "Yeah, I did," Gareth says, looking more than a little shamefaced. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled at you and I'm sorry I hit you with a newspaper that really wasn't cool of me. But *also* you tried to do something to me and that's not cool either, man. Whatever it was." "It's kind of funny," Darwin says, waggling the newspaper. The humor drains from his face quick. "Fuck, I'm sorry Gar. I panicked. I've had so many stupid near misses... But you're right. It wasn't cool. Let me make this all up to you, or at least try. You wanna' go somewhere on the weekend or something?" "Dar, you do not have to make it up to me," Gareth says, his tone firm. "I turned up at your place and banged on your door and hit you with a newspaper. Just promise me you won't do it again, okay?" he asks softly. "No secrets between us, not about each other anyway. Other people's secrets, I get it. But ours." "I won't, I promise I won't," Darwin says, quieter, reaching for Gareth's hands. He pulls him up into another strong embrace, and his frayed emotion is obvious in the soft shudder of his breath. "No secrets." Gareth squeezes his arms around Darwin, hiding his face in the crook of the other man's neck. "You working today?" he wants to know, his voice muffled. "Not till later," Darwin says. "Wanna' stick around?" he asks, swaying Gareth slowly. "If you'll have me..." Gareth says, exhaling slowly into the side of Darwin's neck, letting tension escape. | |