Post by Griff on May 25, 2013 23:58:07 GMT 10
Title: Daylight Monsters
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 735
Pairing: George/Roger
Round/Fight: 2B
Warning: Non-descriptive violence
Summary: (Vampire AU pt.2) He took his life back, but the man never left the back of his mind.
-
In the end, it was the dreams that convinced him it was real. Logically, it made no sense to find a sense of validation in his sleep, but the impossible kept looping in his dreams. It reminded him that the man - and that’s all George could call him, just ‘the man’. Rich man. Cruel man. Terrifying man. The Man. - had climbed forty feet in an instant. There was something about his eyes that couldn’t be explained, that second shine wasn’t headlights, it wasn’t. And he’d been so strong. George had fought, he remembers that now, pushed and pulled again the strong arms wrenching his head to the side and holding him still, but the man hadn’t budged. It wasn’t right, because George wasn’t a wuss. A pressed-shirt business man never should’ve been able to pin him down like there.
And then there was when he fell. The man should have been a splat on the pavement. If he’d been nothing but a creep out wandering the streets for kicks, the only thing that should’ve been moving when he landed was his s*** as his bowls released ‘cause he was dead.
George wasn’t born yesterday and he knew better than trying to tell people. There might be strange rumors about him flying around the neighborhood, but it was better to deal with questioning looks than the dismissive pity people would give him if he tried running his mouth about it. George Cooper might be strangely quiet and focused after his attack, but he wasn’t going to to start raving about magic and mayhem and things that go bump in the night. It was largely to spare himself the public ridicule, but when it was quiet and the sun started setting, he could admitted it was a little for his own peace of mind, as well. There was no forgetting, but if he didn’t talk about it, sometimes, it wasn’t quite so strong of a memory for just a little while.
There were people who knew. His mother also wasn’t born yesterday and she knew her boy better that a bunch of officers in their blues. Eleni Cooper wasn’t about to let him keep secrets after he ended up on someone’s lunch menu. It was for the best, though, since the nightmares would have made her push, anyway.
The only other person who had all the pieces was, oddly enough, his spunky savior. Alanna was a silver spoon baby who’d never made so much as a peep over all the blood he left on her new upholstery and abused her connections in high society to visit him in the hospital despite being the farthest thing from family. In the end, it was that exact trait that validated every crazy thought that spun through his head in the years that followed his attack.
At first, George had spent his days in his mother’s house. It took three weeks for him to walk to the corner store at noon and he’d jumped like a rabbit at every little noise. He’d tried to make ends meet by pick-pocketing on his way to the library where he combed through books on every topic looking for a sign, anything, that there was something he could do. It took six months and the sharp reminder that monsters might roam at night, but bad men could hurt people at any hour to get him out of the house before sunrise. Rispah called him teary and shaken, whispering as quietly as she could that she’d been working the same corner she ran for the last three years, but this time the Claw street gang had decided she didn’t belong. She was locked in someone’s bathroom, and the brilliant girl managed to given him spot-on directions and a body count.
After he’d busted up a street gang, George Cooper’s reputation changed. If it were simply his good at stake, George never would have learned to live at night, again, but his neighborhood needed someone between them and the crime lords who wanted nothing but money and would spill all the blood they wanted before they got it.
Blue eyes haunted him, orange lights set his heart racing, but George Cooper was a strong enough man he would let one monster prevent him from slaying others.
Then Alanna showed up with Jonathan Conte and his world went to hell in a handbasket, bless her little heart.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 735
Pairing: George/Roger
Round/Fight: 2B
Warning: Non-descriptive violence
Summary: (Vampire AU pt.2) He took his life back, but the man never left the back of his mind.
-
In the end, it was the dreams that convinced him it was real. Logically, it made no sense to find a sense of validation in his sleep, but the impossible kept looping in his dreams. It reminded him that the man - and that’s all George could call him, just ‘the man’. Rich man. Cruel man. Terrifying man. The Man. - had climbed forty feet in an instant. There was something about his eyes that couldn’t be explained, that second shine wasn’t headlights, it wasn’t. And he’d been so strong. George had fought, he remembers that now, pushed and pulled again the strong arms wrenching his head to the side and holding him still, but the man hadn’t budged. It wasn’t right, because George wasn’t a wuss. A pressed-shirt business man never should’ve been able to pin him down like there.
And then there was when he fell. The man should have been a splat on the pavement. If he’d been nothing but a creep out wandering the streets for kicks, the only thing that should’ve been moving when he landed was his s*** as his bowls released ‘cause he was dead.
George wasn’t born yesterday and he knew better than trying to tell people. There might be strange rumors about him flying around the neighborhood, but it was better to deal with questioning looks than the dismissive pity people would give him if he tried running his mouth about it. George Cooper might be strangely quiet and focused after his attack, but he wasn’t going to to start raving about magic and mayhem and things that go bump in the night. It was largely to spare himself the public ridicule, but when it was quiet and the sun started setting, he could admitted it was a little for his own peace of mind, as well. There was no forgetting, but if he didn’t talk about it, sometimes, it wasn’t quite so strong of a memory for just a little while.
There were people who knew. His mother also wasn’t born yesterday and she knew her boy better that a bunch of officers in their blues. Eleni Cooper wasn’t about to let him keep secrets after he ended up on someone’s lunch menu. It was for the best, though, since the nightmares would have made her push, anyway.
The only other person who had all the pieces was, oddly enough, his spunky savior. Alanna was a silver spoon baby who’d never made so much as a peep over all the blood he left on her new upholstery and abused her connections in high society to visit him in the hospital despite being the farthest thing from family. In the end, it was that exact trait that validated every crazy thought that spun through his head in the years that followed his attack.
At first, George had spent his days in his mother’s house. It took three weeks for him to walk to the corner store at noon and he’d jumped like a rabbit at every little noise. He’d tried to make ends meet by pick-pocketing on his way to the library where he combed through books on every topic looking for a sign, anything, that there was something he could do. It took six months and the sharp reminder that monsters might roam at night, but bad men could hurt people at any hour to get him out of the house before sunrise. Rispah called him teary and shaken, whispering as quietly as she could that she’d been working the same corner she ran for the last three years, but this time the Claw street gang had decided she didn’t belong. She was locked in someone’s bathroom, and the brilliant girl managed to given him spot-on directions and a body count.
After he’d busted up a street gang, George Cooper’s reputation changed. If it were simply his good at stake, George never would have learned to live at night, again, but his neighborhood needed someone between them and the crime lords who wanted nothing but money and would spill all the blood they wanted before they got it.
Blue eyes haunted him, orange lights set his heart racing, but George Cooper was a strong enough man he would let one monster prevent him from slaying others.
Then Alanna showed up with Jonathan Conte and his world went to hell in a handbasket, bless her little heart.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!