OOC: Yet another modern thread for all types of modern characters, may they normal, paranormal, supernatural or just the normal abnormal.
Depending on how the rest of my month goes, this might be only a one-week thing, but I'll try my best to keep this going.
I'll try my best to keep Vince's POV-posts horror-light, like family-friendly Halloween TV including zombies to stay within the spirit of the event
Without further ado to the post, one week in the making
The bright, red font stuck out against the black of the truck, especially at night.
It spelled all three: the name a planet, the name of a roman god of war as well as the name of a chocolate company.
A few dying streetlights hummed overhead, as they fought a losing battle against neglect. The battle against the darkness, they probably would’ve all but lost, if not for the support of a brightly lit billboard. Some kind of ad for beautiful people on a beach.
In the distance, a dog barked themself crazy. The nearby wall was only held together by graffiti.
It spelled urban decay, though not exactly in those words.
And somewhere below it all, Vince was about to crash. The adrenalin had left his body, and just for the moment, he leaned against the inner side of the truck.
His legs were dangling above the cardboard boxes he had already kicked in the streets.
Cardboard boxes full of chocolate covered peanuts and candy bars.
They were ripped open for the content to spill out.
At least with cardboard boxes, this was the good outcome. It meant candy on the ground, an open invitation to take some. With people things always was a lot messier.
Messy also described Vince’s hair. Jumping from a driving vehicle to another would be bad for anyone’s hairstyle, and his hair was wild to begin with.
His leather jacket wasn’t exactly messy, just worn out. He had bought it used, and worn it far longer than the manufacturer ever even could imagine. High speed falls and a history of knife attacks and angry guard dogs also hardly counted as proper jacket-maintenance.
The plastic wolf-mask didn’t need any history to fall apart. It was dollar bin, unfit to survive a night like this.
As the elastic started to give, Vince had shoved it to the top of his head. Up there, it did a poor poor job of hiding his identity.
He did only care so much. The occasional glance at the window of the nearby electronics shop was precaution enough.
The ancient TV there would hopefully warn Vince, if his little highway-stunt would make evening news.
After all, he didn’t exactly own this truck full of chocolate… legally speaking.
How he got into its possession, that was an interesting story, involving cheap Halloween masks, shotguns, a high risk vehicle chase and some very poor decisions.
Vince had decided to keep the string of bad decisions going.
It would’ve been sensible to just leave the truck at the side of the highway. It would’ve been even more sensible not to leave the bed tonight at all, or not to get involved with the wrong people.
But that was a problem for Tomorrow-Vince.
Today-Vince had a truckload of chocolate, and only one regret: not getting a Robin Hood costume before gifting his ill-gotten gains to the poor.
Maybe it was the only sensible thing to do with a ton of candy on Halloween.
Depending on how the rest of my month goes, this might be only a one-week thing, but I'll try my best to keep this going.
I'll try my best to keep Vince's POV-posts horror-light, like family-friendly Halloween TV including zombies to stay within the spirit of the event
Without further ado to the post, one week in the making
The bright, red font stuck out against the black of the truck, especially at night.
It spelled all three: the name a planet, the name of a roman god of war as well as the name of a chocolate company.
A few dying streetlights hummed overhead, as they fought a losing battle against neglect. The battle against the darkness, they probably would’ve all but lost, if not for the support of a brightly lit billboard. Some kind of ad for beautiful people on a beach.
In the distance, a dog barked themself crazy. The nearby wall was only held together by graffiti.
It spelled urban decay, though not exactly in those words.
And somewhere below it all, Vince was about to crash. The adrenalin had left his body, and just for the moment, he leaned against the inner side of the truck.
His legs were dangling above the cardboard boxes he had already kicked in the streets.
Cardboard boxes full of chocolate covered peanuts and candy bars.
They were ripped open for the content to spill out.
At least with cardboard boxes, this was the good outcome. It meant candy on the ground, an open invitation to take some. With people things always was a lot messier.
Messy also described Vince’s hair. Jumping from a driving vehicle to another would be bad for anyone’s hairstyle, and his hair was wild to begin with.
His leather jacket wasn’t exactly messy, just worn out. He had bought it used, and worn it far longer than the manufacturer ever even could imagine. High speed falls and a history of knife attacks and angry guard dogs also hardly counted as proper jacket-maintenance.
The plastic wolf-mask didn’t need any history to fall apart. It was dollar bin, unfit to survive a night like this.
As the elastic started to give, Vince had shoved it to the top of his head. Up there, it did a poor poor job of hiding his identity.
He did only care so much. The occasional glance at the window of the nearby electronics shop was precaution enough.
The ancient TV there would hopefully warn Vince, if his little highway-stunt would make evening news.
After all, he didn’t exactly own this truck full of chocolate… legally speaking.
How he got into its possession, that was an interesting story, involving cheap Halloween masks, shotguns, a high risk vehicle chase and some very poor decisions.
Vince had decided to keep the string of bad decisions going.
It would’ve been sensible to just leave the truck at the side of the highway. It would’ve been even more sensible not to leave the bed tonight at all, or not to get involved with the wrong people.
But that was a problem for Tomorrow-Vince.
Today-Vince had a truckload of chocolate, and only one regret: not getting a Robin Hood costume before gifting his ill-gotten gains to the poor.
Maybe it was the only sensible thing to do with a ton of candy on Halloween.
The sirens had faded by the time Mercy turned the corner, her jacket pulled close against the chill. She slowed at the sight of the truck, the red Mars logo glowing under a flickering streetlight. The man leaning beside it was half in shadow and surrounded by candy bars like fallen treasure.
“You look like the before picture in a concussion awareness poster,” she said, amusement curling in her voice as she stepped closer. Her eyes swept over the crooked wolf mask and the scuffed leather jacket. “Please tell me this isn’t the part where I have to call it in. I just got off shift.”
She bent to pick up a candy bar, turning it in her fingers before slipping it into her pocket. “Consider this my consultation fee.” When she straightened, the faint smile on her lips softened her words. “And no, this isn’t a costume. I’m an actual nurse. So if you’re bleeding anywhere under that jacket, now’s your one chance to look heroic while I fix it.”
Her gaze lingered on him, calm but curious, the kind that said she was already deciding whether he was trouble…or just her kind of fun.
Vince blinked.
"…how does the after-picture look like?" he asked, slightly irritated by the thought of someone looking looking more through the ringer than him. Another blink, then it slowly dawned him.
"Wait, it isn't 'before concussion', it is 'before getting help for a concussion'?"
Yeah, that made sense. Relieved to have solved this riddle, Vince sounded happy rather than insulted.
"I don't have brain damage." Wait, did he? For how long he had been a werewolf, maybe it counted as a developmental disorder for how much it influenced his way of thinking.
Vince made a mental note: Check if anyone that caught Lycanthropy as an adult ever stole a candy truck on Halloween.
But that was something that he should pounder as far away from a medical professional as possible.
"There isn't anything worth of calling in here. In fact, you saw nothing, and in exchange for your… lapse in perception, I'm mending the social ills of our society, making sure the unsung heroes of our hospitals getting paid properly for once…"
Vince did his best to channel the few professionals he had worked with. They usually had large wads of cash that they could slide over to make that offer pop.
He just had Snickers. He fanned some out like a wad of cash, before tossing one Mercy's way.
"Wait, I don't think you're covered by plan…."
And he added a third one to her payment. Hopefully, that was enough to buy her silence.
"Also, by the way…" he tipped at the mask. "This isn't a costume either, I'm actually a wolf." A wink, then he got serious. "Yeah, I don't think I'm actually injured, thanks for asking."
"…how does the after-picture look like?" he asked, slightly irritated by the thought of someone looking looking more through the ringer than him. Another blink, then it slowly dawned him.
"Wait, it isn't 'before concussion', it is 'before getting help for a concussion'?"
Yeah, that made sense. Relieved to have solved this riddle, Vince sounded happy rather than insulted.
"I don't have brain damage." Wait, did he? For how long he had been a werewolf, maybe it counted as a developmental disorder for how much it influenced his way of thinking.
Vince made a mental note: Check if anyone that caught Lycanthropy as an adult ever stole a candy truck on Halloween.
But that was something that he should pounder as far away from a medical professional as possible.
"There isn't anything worth of calling in here. In fact, you saw nothing, and in exchange for your… lapse in perception, I'm mending the social ills of our society, making sure the unsung heroes of our hospitals getting paid properly for once…"
Vince did his best to channel the few professionals he had worked with. They usually had large wads of cash that they could slide over to make that offer pop.
He just had Snickers. He fanned some out like a wad of cash, before tossing one Mercy's way.
"Wait, I don't think you're covered by plan…."
And he added a third one to her payment. Hopefully, that was enough to buy her silence.
"Also, by the way…" he tipped at the mask. "This isn't a costume either, I'm actually a wolf." A wink, then he got serious. "Yeah, I don't think I'm actually injured, thanks for asking."
Mercy caught the flying candy bar midair, the corner of her mouth curving as she turned it over in her hand. “Hazard pay in chocolate. I can work with that.”
She stepped closer, the toe of her sneaker nudging a wrapper at her feet. His logic about “mending social ills” drew a low laugh from her, quiet but genuine. “So this is community service, huh? You stealing from the rich to feed the sugar-deprived.”
The nurse tucked the candy into her pocket, giving him a long, assessing look. “Well, your pupils look even. You are standing upright. And you are still capable of sarcasm. I’ll take that as a clean bill of health.”
Her gaze dropped to the wolf mask as he mentioned being “an actual wolf.” She arched a brow, voice dropping into a playful murmur. “Good to know. Just in case I see you in the ER, I will be sure to keep a raw steak on hand.”
Mercy turned slightly, half lit by the streetlight, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Try not to crash any more trucks, wolfman. I may quit accepting chocolate for my consultation fees.” She took a few steps backward, still watching him with that same cool amusement, as if daring him to make her stay.
”Happy Samhain, Wolf!”
She stepped closer, the toe of her sneaker nudging a wrapper at her feet. His logic about “mending social ills” drew a low laugh from her, quiet but genuine. “So this is community service, huh? You stealing from the rich to feed the sugar-deprived.”
The nurse tucked the candy into her pocket, giving him a long, assessing look. “Well, your pupils look even. You are standing upright. And you are still capable of sarcasm. I’ll take that as a clean bill of health.”
Her gaze dropped to the wolf mask as he mentioned being “an actual wolf.” She arched a brow, voice dropping into a playful murmur. “Good to know. Just in case I see you in the ER, I will be sure to keep a raw steak on hand.”
Mercy turned slightly, half lit by the streetlight, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Try not to crash any more trucks, wolfman. I may quit accepting chocolate for my consultation fees.” She took a few steps backward, still watching him with that same cool amusement, as if daring him to make her stay.
”Happy Samhain, Wolf!”
Vince couldn't help it, he broke out in a small ballad.
"♪ He robbed from the rich and gave to the poor,
♪ stood up to the man and gave him what for!
♪ Our love for him now, we have ever since,
♪ The hero of Rustport, the man they call Vince."
And there Vince kept it. He was alright with a bass in his hand, and that experience at least gave him a sense of rhythm, but he'd never be a singer for a reason.
He tilted his head. Didn't now sarcasm was a good sign. In that case, I'm healthy." Vince grabbed the next candybar. This time, it wasn't a bribe for anybody, he just unwrapped the next bar.
"Making sure I'm not alone with all this stuff is mainly a decision I'm making for my own health. I'm bad at resisting temptation."
Vince took a bit and smiled.
For a moment he tilted his head, watching Mercy as she was gaining distance. "If you don't take chocolate anymore, I think there is a crate of gummy bears somewhere in there."
His thumb pointed inside the truck.
"Happy Halloween. And… where should I go again when this all comes crashing down? I'm always game for the hospital with raw steak and fun nurses!"
"♪ He robbed from the rich and gave to the poor,
♪ stood up to the man and gave him what for!
♪ Our love for him now, we have ever since,
♪ The hero of Rustport, the man they call Vince."
And there Vince kept it. He was alright with a bass in his hand, and that experience at least gave him a sense of rhythm, but he'd never be a singer for a reason.
He tilted his head. Didn't now sarcasm was a good sign. In that case, I'm healthy." Vince grabbed the next candybar. This time, it wasn't a bribe for anybody, he just unwrapped the next bar.
"Making sure I'm not alone with all this stuff is mainly a decision I'm making for my own health. I'm bad at resisting temptation."
Vince took a bit and smiled.
For a moment he tilted his head, watching Mercy as she was gaining distance. "If you don't take chocolate anymore, I think there is a crate of gummy bears somewhere in there."
His thumb pointed inside the truck.
"Happy Halloween. And… where should I go again when this all comes crashing down? I'm always game for the hospital with raw steak and fun nurses!"
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