turps

That's just fine. It's a lot to take in I know.

Awesome. *tabs* Thanks for the heads up.

Mikeyfuckinway is the best conclusion ever!

From:

I really, REALLY like the Gerard and Ray pic. and am most pleased to see Cortez in there.

And um...general gleeface for you and picspams and Mikeyway-in-conclusion.

I'm feeling comment spammy - would you like some random ficspam today?

From:

I really love picspams, I love looking at pictures full stop. Though I have to be careful or I'd lose hours doing so.

And dude. You need ask? Yes!

From:

I hear you - I have to tread carefully as well. :)

Of course I need to ask - I really try to be polite about this stuff! *hugs*

Okay. You remember the Frank!wolf stuff [which is different than the Pedestrian Wolves bits, as its part of the Apocalyptic Iteration I'm working on, also known as the 'Traveling Show' Verse]? For ease of reference, here's the link to what I previously inflicted on you and Turlough. ;D : http://crowgirl13.livejournal.com/280551.html This bit is a continuation of that fic.
~~

It's in Toledo when everything abruptly goes to shit. Gee was twitchy, too much coffee and rapid pattered not distracting any of them from the purplish bruises under his eyes. Ray was doing his best to distract him from Mikey's absence. So far, the best wasn't helping much. Frank traded a glance with Bob; not a word passes between them, they just stand and make a hasty departure. As soon as they stepped out of the bus they hesitate, Frank is overly aware that they are at loose ends, with few places to go. Another shared glance and pause to light cigarettes though and the pair of them headed into the venue.

Frank felt watchers all around them; he waved to various members of security team, saw Bob nod to Cortez as they continued onward. The venue is a familiar maze of concrete halls; the echo of techs and the fans queuing up out in front first echoes and then is muted as they turn a corner, heading down corridor starkly lit with florescent lights.

Halfway down the corridor, Bob pauses, frowning.
"What?" The word is sharp on Frank's tongue. Something under his skin itches; he rubs his hands along his arms, fingers lingering on the Lady of Sorrows.
Bob glanced his way, looking distracted. "Not sure. Something feels off." He looked back up the corridor.

"I think we should go back." Frank felt the prickle under his skin intensify. The sudden scent of brine and ocean rot swirled around him. Frank sneezed. Bob looked at him; the grim set of his features reminded Frank of the early days, back when Bob was still teching and the general opinion was that he was not a dude you wanted to fuck with.
"Yeah." Bob said slowly looking around. "We should."
They start back the way they came. The reek of ocean grows stronger. Turning a corner, they find themselves in a dim corridor. "This isn't the way we came..." Frank said.

"No." Bob said. The word rumbled out of him. "Stay behind me."
"What the fuck..." Frank's mouth snapped closed so quickly at the look Bob leveled on him, his teeth clacked together.

His voices started to clamour, warning of danger, telling him to listen. Frank hung back, staring at Bob. He flowed down the hall - the grace is each step and twitch of muscle was uncanny. Frank felt his heart rabbiting in his chest as the voices murmured their approval of Bob. Frank just crept forward, skin prickling and breathing through his mouth. The reek of salt water and rot was overwhelming.

The light grew dimmer by the moment, as the overhead lights flickered. All the lights - but one, at the far end of the hall- flickered one more time and died. Bob shucked his jacket and shirts, practically leapt out of his battered trainers. Frank blinked at the sudden appearance of more skin than he was used to seeing from his drummer. He stared, only distantly aware of pulling off his own shirt, the press of warm, clammy air against the skin of his chest. Bob turns to check on him, frowns and then grins. His smile is downright feral; enough as it makes Frank shiver, it makes something within him, howl in accord.

They come out of the walls.

Frank registers tenacles writhing around a mostly humaniod frame, dripping almost dreads, bulbous eyes, the strange circular gap of curved shark teeth. Then Bob flings himself forward, fists flying.

Frank breathes deep, can't contain the growl when a wayward tentacle hits Bob's cheek. //Fuck no.// He thinks. Frank sees a flicker of pale fur, a glimpse of blue eyes... he sees Bob surrounded by four creatures. And something inside of Frank snaps. //NO. MINE.// He howls, the sound echoing as he moves forward.

The voices chorus //YESYESYES//.

The multi-tongued haunts in Frank all unite and bray; then they sweep him back.
~~~

From:

~~
Frank blinks back to awareness leaning back against a wall, the concrete cool on his shoulders. He breathed in - the air was clean. The faintest tang of sea salt made him think of Atlantic City. Then he glanced down. Splattered on his skin, soaking into his jeans coated his arms from fingertip to elbow was blood. Frank sucked in a breath, and a coppery tang settled in his sinuses, at the back of his throat. He remembers //Slick skin, slime against his hands// and he whimpers.

"Frank?" Bob's voice sounds very far away. Then all that registered was flight, wind on skin, chilling him were the liquid lingered.

Frank looked at his hands, breath hitching in his chest, took in the steady drip from the faucet and reached for paper towels.
~~~~

Don't worry - there's more. :)

From:

Eeeeep!!! So awesome!! The nervousness in the beginning, how Frank's feeling watched when they venture outside, the unease and then the smell, and then suddenly they're somewhere else! I was all tense when I read this, just waiting for whatever was going to happen, because surely something would, but I didn't expect the corridor to change like that so I was probably just as suprised as Frank. (I don't know what I expected, a monster of some sort probably, definitely not a world change like that.)

Of course Frank's voices approves of Bob without clothes, who wouldn't?! ;-)

I've no idea what kind of monsters that came out of the walls but the not-very-detailed description made them feel very scary, the half-seen is alway so much more scary than what you can see clearly. It's not that I imagine what the bits I can't see are looking like, it's the fact that I don't really know what to imagine that's so scary!

The multi-tongued haunts in Frank all unite and bray; then they sweep him back.

I wondered a little what you meant here, did the voices "take over" Frank's body so-to-speak?

"Frank?" Bob's voice sounds very far away. Then all that registered was flight, wind on skin, chilling him were the liquid lingered.

Frank looked at his hands, breath hitching in his chest, took in the steady drip from the faucet and reached for paper towels.

Huh? What happened??? Flight? And then they're suddenly in a bathroom? More!!!!

(And now I'm going to start that werewolf fic that I tabbed earlier this afternoon!)

From:

Yay! I'm so excited to hear that the tension played out here - I think it probably works better attached to the rest of the fic, since the creepiness starts to ramp up from the Paramour on, but thank goodness it reads well on its own!

It's not *exactly* a world change - more like the creatures in question warp the world when they're it. Does that make sense?

Of course Frank's voices approves of Bob without clothes, who wouldn't?! ;-)
*laughs* certainly not I! Though, sadly, he's not completely sans garments. It seems silly to fight scary tentacled things with one's dangly bits well, dangling free. :D

And again with the \o/ for the scary monsters being scary!

Regarding Frank and his voices: Frank has done a very good job of separating and compartmentalizing the various aspects of himself. This is partially because he doesn't KNOW about his own wolfishness and he doesn't really want to. Remember how he stop picking fights? That's were the divide really happened. This is the breaking point, when instinct pushes his will aside.

Frank freaked and ran away. Here, I'll let Bob tell you about it.

[I was pretty pleased by that werewolf fic. And I look forward to analyzing it with you, my dear. ♥!]

From:

more like the creatures in question warp the world when they're it. Does that make sense?

Yeah, I think so.

sadly, he's not completely sans garments.

No, but Bob's like Gerard, just seeing his bare arms is kind of shocking ;-)

Remember how he stop picking fights?

I'd forgotten about that! I'm going to read Bob's bit now. (I've just finished part 2 of the werewolf story and it felt like a good point to take a little break. It's great so far!)

From:

Oh good, I'm glad it makes sense. [Here I am, mucking about with reality again. :D But reality's so much fun to muck around *with*...]

I think I'm used to seeing his arms, but yeah the idea of shirtless Bob is kinda startling. :)

What, you've forgotten the insanity I posted *two months* ago?! I can't believe it! *laughs* [That would be why I compiled the previous bits and posted a link at the beginning of the ficspamming. I really don't expect all y'all to keep track of the twists here.]

And I really, REALLY love that Frank icon.

From:

Isn't it pretty?!! It's by

maryangel200. I love the colouring of it so much.

Re: And then there's this.

From:

crowgirl13.livejournal.com - Date: 2009-02-17 05:36 pm (UTC) - Expand

From:

hammerhead22.livejournal.com

Holy hell! I can't wait to read more of this!

From:

*grins*
I'm glad you're enjoying it. Thanks for reading.

[And more's been posted. :D]

From:

Eeee! This is such an awesome addition.

"I think we should go back." Frank felt the prickle under his skin intensify. The sudden scent of brine and ocean rot swirled around him. Frank sneezed. Bob looked at him; the grim set of his features reminded Frank of the early days, back when Bob was still teching and the general opinion was that he was not a dude you wanted to fuck with.

A big bit to quote, sorry, but I love how you set the mood, how the tension starts to build, it's really creepy, especially with the addition of the lights going out later on.

Bob turns to check on him, frowns and then grins. His smile is downright feral; enough as it makes Frank shiver, it makes something within him, howl in accord

And that, that connection between them, even if it's not fully realised on both sides.

Frank has to be so freaked out. I'd imagine the instinct to fight kicked in big time, and he wouldn't know why. I love the contrast of the action scene and the bathroom. I think when you go through bad stuff you often get the deliberate calm, as if you think too much you'll go under.

Also, about the fight scene, that was so intense, with them both on the attack, and Frank fighting for what's his.

I'm very pleased there's more, because this? Is amazing!

From:

*claps and dances*
Man, all the eeee! has me going Eeee! too!!

That's two confirmations on the creepy factor - excellent! It's such a simple thing, the lights going out... but it does ramp up the tension.[I'm glad it works, that is. \o/]

Frank is so, so freaked out. Partially because he's not as freaked as he thinks he should be, poor woobie [though, we haven't gotten to *that* bit yet]. Too much stress, too many threats to his family and tentaclely monsters are THE LAST STRAW. But that doesn't make it any easier to deal with the fallout here.

Oh rock on! I'm super excited that the fight scene worked for you! And that the snip worked for you! But I'm mostly happy to offer you entertainment right in your journal. Thank you for indulging me. *loves*

From:

[Why hello, Bob. I feel like I should warn for swearing and maybe violence here. Because that feels polite. This section is pretty rough, so please excuse my tense issues and redundancies.]

~~~
The road had gotten worse. Bob didn't know what had happened; he wondered sometimes if his injury had skewed his perspective somehow, that the situation really hadn't gotten any worse but instead the infection had, somehow, burned some of his tolerance out of him. Like a reverse immunization.

Generally when he started to think that, Bob'd go find his band, settle down and listen to Gee and Frank bicker over comics and the feeling would pass.

The truth of the matter is that kind of thinking made him feel vulnerable, and Bob couldn't afford to feel vulnerable. He had to be vigilant, keep an eye on his band. It was hard enough without Mikey being around. Bob knew he'd dedicated himself to his band, had decided long ago that this is his pack, dammit, but he hadn’t really realized what that meant until the Paramour, until Mikey left.

Mikey's absence is an itch Bob can't scratch. It's not like the feeling of the moon, the need to run or pull on fur. It's a hair shy of unbearable. He's not the only one to feel that way; he honestly doesn't know who's responding the worse to Mikey's absence, Gee or Frank. Ray's being quiet, at least. Though that makes Bob worry in different ways.

Why he thinks that separating himself from his den and his Alpha was the right choice, Bob will never know. At the time, all he felt was the urge to run run run and that shit was not happening at this venue. They were smack in the middle of the city, surrounded by concrete and too many strange humans. He'd spent the last hour watching Frankie bouncing off the bus walls, almost vibrating out of his own skin. That wasn’t working for anyone, so Bob pulled him up and out the door, hoping a bit of exploring would calm Frank down.

Bob knew this venue - between sound work and My Chem, he'd been through this building a dozen times or more. So getting lost wasn't a problem; it was a big fucking red flag of warning. Then the stench hit him and he knew they were in serious trouble.

//Shit. Frank.// Was his only thought.

He caught a glimpse of Frank out of the corner of his eye - he'd followed Bob's lead, stripping down to skin. Bob was... a lot less surprised by that than he should be.

Then the tentacled assholes came right out of the walls, and he could only focus on getting the two of them back to the bus in one piece.

~~

Bob was busy blocking tentacles - and fucking hell, he was getting tired of tentacles, seriously what the fuck- so he stopped worrying about Frank or specifically what Frank was going to see almost immediately.

//Good to know tentacle monsters are good for something.// He thought, slashing up across a throat glistening with slime, the muck getting under his claws. He grimaced at the slick clammy feeling, turned the expression into a snarl and lunged at the next creature.

There was a full-throated howl so close it sounded like it was being uttered in his ear. The sound - a battle cry- had the fur along his spine rising, his skin twitching. He knew that voice - though he'd never heard it like this. Next thing Bob saw was a whirl of black fur, pulling the monster at his left away, rending it limb from limb. Bob blinked, absently shredding the tentacle trying to cut off his air supply. Black fur, slender limbs, narrow muzzle and familiar hazel eyes...

//Well, shit.// He thought.// Looks like I'm not the only one getting outed today. // Another tentacle and the prick of teeth on his shoulder had Bob focusing on the fight again.

Something in him, a knot of ever-present tension, loosened. While he didn't relax his guard, Bob certainly felt safer. Frank had always had his back in the past. This just upped that feeling. Something fierce surged through him. Bob howled, uncaring about who might hear, and danced into the fight. His steps had never been so light. In him, under the snarls, hummed a song. It was one word. //pack pack pack//

From:

The fight was over quickly. There weren't that many tentacled horrors - eight or so, enough to take down two humans, and probably take out a single Fianin, especially if he was trying to protect someone. But two Fianan? Not a challenge, particularly since Frank fought like a berserker, like he was possessed.

Bob bounced a little on the balls of his feet, the fight humming through him. That had actually been fun. He looked over at Frank. The smaller man was leaning against the wall; head tipped back, eyes closed. He was a mess, completely saturated in blood. //Figures.// Bob thought, with a wry grin. //Not that I'm much better.// He looked down at his pants and grimaced. //I liked these jeans too.// A whimper had him looking up, sharply at Frank.

Frank was staring at his hands, flexing his fingers. Bob could hear his breathing speed up, could smell fear and panic rising.

"Frank?" He said, trying to keep his voice gentle.

Frank looked up - wide-eyed, Bob knew he wasn't seeing him. Then he was gone, wet footprints on concrete the only indication he'd been there. Bob leaned back against the wall. Ignoring the itch of drying blood and slime on his skin, he stared at the bodies slowly dissolving around him. Under the saline reek of the corpses, he could smell Frank. The familiar scent //smoke/sweat/hotel soap/hair dye/laughter// was intensified, imbued with the musk/fur/night scent that denoted Fianan.

//I never noticed. I would have noticed, if it had been there, if he'd been...//
"Oh. FUCK." And he took off down the corridor, following the scent trail of the newly Shifted.
~~~

Bob followed the familiar scent trail through the concrete maze of the venue. Drying smears of blood and slime mark the path. Bob tilts his head, eyes darting across grey walls as he follows. Around another corner, though a set of double doors and Bob is assaulted by the reek of urine and disinfectant. Long practice stops him from covering his nose - the last thing he needs is the scent of slime caught in his sinuses for the rest if the day. Its dark, unlit, but he doesn't need much. The light from the open door shines on a crumpled mound of paper towels piled up by one of the end sinks. Bob takes a deep breath - grimaces - and follows the mingled scent of blood and raw panic around the corner.

The bathroom's dark, but even if he were human, he'd still be able to find Frank.

Loud rasping gasps for air draw him around the corner. Frank’s wedged in the corner farthest from the door, curled up in a tight ball of soaked denim and pale, inked limbs, wet dark hair and rapid heartbeats. Bob cautiously walked forward, bare feet quiet and careful on approach. He squatted down well outside of Frank's personal space. Reaching out, he brushed fingers against Frank's arm. Skin twitched under his fingertips and Frank cried out, the sound a blend of whimper and sheer despair. Something in Bob flinched back at the sound, before snarling. //No. Not acceptable.// He leaned forward, muscles in thighs and calves compensating for the action. He wraps fingers around a slender tattooed wrist.

"Frankie..." His voice is a low burr of sound in the darkness. The flesh under his grip shivers but Frank doesn't respond otherwise.

"FRANK." There's a bit of a growl in the name as his fingers tighten.

Bob sees a brief flail of fingers in the gloom //flash of moth wings in firelight// and then stillness. He growls outright and tugs. "Iero, don't you dare pussy out on me."

Hazel eyes snap up and meet his own. "Fuck you, Bryar. Let me have my fucking breakdown in peace."

“No.”

~~~~

From:

*flails* This is so AWESOME!! I need this story to be finished so I can read all of it!! I want to know all of what has happened and where it's going to end and how everyone is doing and reacting and, well, EVERYTHING!!

Why he thinks that separating himself from his den and his Alpha was the right choice, Bob will never know.

That's Mikey, Bob is thinking about, right? (And now I'm wondering who Bob considers Mikey's Alpha to be. Gerard I presume, though I remember our discussion about Gerard's potential Alpha-ness :-)

Black fur, slender limbs, narrow muzzle and familiar hazel eyes...

Frank!!!

Frank had always had his back in the past. This just upped that feeling. Something fierce surged through him. Bob howled, uncaring about who might hear, and danced into the fight. His steps had never been so light. In him, under the snarls, hummed a song. It was one word. //pack pack pack//

This bit is wonderful. Bob's got a real pack mate!

Fianan

What a great name to use, it's got such history and so many connotations!

smoke/sweat/hotel soap/hair dye/laughter

Yes, that's Frank!

The whole bathroom scene is fantastic! Frank's despair and Bob's gruff sympathy and caretaking and how he can't let Frank break down completely. *squishes Bob and pets poor Frank*

From:

AH! You bring me so much GLEE! :DDDD

That's Mikey, Bob is thinking about, right?
Actually, no. In this case I do mean Gee. I'm working on the 'effective Alpha behavior through strong Beta support' principle that we also brought up during this discussion. Granted, this isn't Pedestrian Wolves, so we aren't taking about a full wolf pack here [Frank and Bob are it...uh, mostly], but the dynamic does apply.

*grins* Yes, FRANK!!

There is a difference between band-as-pack and *actual* pack, yeah. Yay for them both!

I cannot even *express* how utterly pleased I am that you caught the 'Fianan' connotations! *fistpumps with glee* I'm so glad you approve. :DDD

The bathroom scene is actually the core scene for Frank's entire story here, in 'Traveling Show'. I'd been waving hands via chat to Hana, and said '...and then he freaks out, runs off to hide and Bob finds him huddled in the venue's bathroom...' and it was so freakin' clear in my mind. *smishes the both of them*

*twirls you* I'm so glad you're enjoying this! I do have more, specifically more Bob. If you'd like I can ficspam over in your journal tomorrow...

♥!

From:

Actually, no. In this case I do mean Gee.

Aha! For some reason I was connecting that sentence to the paragraph before, not the paragraph it's actually in.

I cannot even *express* how utterly pleased I am that you caught the 'Fianan' connotations!

Well, I have to confess to wiki-ing that particular spelling because I'm more used to seeing it spelled with two Ns in the middle and I wondered if you meant something different even though I didn't think so. And yes, of course I got the connotations, doesn't everyone? No, I know lots of people probably don't but I'm an old fantasy and Tolkien fan (the books, not the movies) and the Celts are generally fascinating so I've got a shelf of nonfiction dedicated to Celtiana in general. It's been a few years since I actually read any of it of course :-)

The bathroom scene is actually the core scene for Frank's entire story

The bathroom scene is fantastic! The dark and Frank all curled up and Bob being so... Bob!

If you'd like I can ficspam over in your journal tomorrow...

If you want to I would love to have you!

Re: But wait! There's more! 2/2

From:

crowgirl13.livejournal.com - Date: 2009-02-17 05:43 pm (UTC) - Expand

From:

Oh my goodness!

Seriously. This is already amazing, when it's polished it's going to be pure gold.

Mikey's absence is an itch Bob can't scratch. It's not like the feeling of the moon, the need to run or pull on fur. It's a hair shy of unbearable

You describe that so well. Mikey being gone has to have left a significant gap in Bob's life and it has to be maddening, needing to protect him and he's just not there.

Why he thinks that separating himself from his den and his Alpha was the right choice, Bob will never know

Oh Bob. I feel for him so. While Frank is becoming more, Bob needs his whole pack.

There was a full-throated howl so close it sounded like it was being uttered in his ear. The sound - a battle cry- had the fur along his spine rising, his skin twitching. He knew that voice - though he'd never heard it like this. Next thing Bob saw was a whirl of black fur, pulling the monster at his left away, rending it limb from limb. Bob blinked, absently shredding the tentacle trying to cut off his air supply. Black fur, slender limbs, narrow muzzle and familiar hazel eyes...

This whole section makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I can imagine the fight so easily, and I love the absently shredding the tentacle, showing that Bob is totally in control.

Then, Frank!

Bob howled, uncaring about who might hear, and danced into the fight. His steps had never been so light. In him, under the snarls, hummed a song. It was one word. //pack pack pack//

!!! At last, he has someone.

Then Bob, actually having fun and not realising at first how traumatised Frank was. And no wonder.

The scene in the bathroom is heart-breaking.

You are amazing. Thank you for sharing this.

From: