Writing - Tamingthemuse challenge
Jul. 31st, 2010 04:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jadedmusingsTitle: "The Truth Hurts"
Fandom: Original
Prompt: #210 - Feral
Warnings: Silliness.
Rating: G
Summary: Life is unfair, especially when your best friend is a werewolf and you're...something else.
Word Count: 954
Notes: This was fun to write.
Like most people, Charlie didn’t like to talk about his support group outside of meetings. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his affliction—he was very proud of who and what he was—he didn’t want to risk revealing too-personal information about his fellow “sufferers.” I’m not saying he didn’t have a right to be concerned. If an outsider with bad intentions infiltrated one of their meetings and revealed their identities to outsiders, it could ruin lives and possibly even end a few. But I, the persistent little bastard I am, still insisted upon putting Charlie in an awkward position.
“C’mon Charlie, how long have we been friends? Don’t you trust me, man?” Guilt is a weapon I wield well and I’m not too proud to use it when I need an upper-hand in an argument, especially when the other party is close to caving in to my demands.
“This isn’t about trust, Don, and you know it.” His voice was firm, but in his eyes I saw his resolve wavering. “I just don’t want to see you hurt is all.”
“If things start getting hairy—literally or figuratively—I’ll high-tail it out of there in a hurry.” I cocked my head to the right ever so slightly and opened my eyes a little wider. “Please, man? Just this once?”
“Dude, don’t give me that look. These aren’t table scraps you’re begging for.” He turned his head away from me and breathed out a resigned sigh.
I was so in.
Charlie looked back at me and studied me for a moment. “All right, fine—“
I let out a whoop of cheer and reached out to grab his hand. “Yes! I swear, man, you won’t even know I’m there.”
He allowed me to give his arm an excited couple of pumps before shoving me away lightly. “Oh, I’ll know you’re there all right. I always know when you’re near.” He folded his arms over his broad chest. “Just promise me you won’t change in front of my friends.”
“Oh what, you’re ashamed of me now?”
“Naw, man, it’s not that. You’re my best friend and I love you like a brother. It’s…well, it’s complicated. This isn’t some sort of social clique. It’s a pack, and packs can be vicious.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know, dude. I’m a pack animal too.”
Charlie wasn’t able to contain his derisive snort. “No offense, Don, but you’re not a wolf. You’re a…well, you’re domesticated.”
A little growl rumbled in the back of my throat. “Don’t judge me by my animal.”
He took a step back and raised his hands in mock surrender. “All I’m saying is—“
“That you’re the superior species?”
“No! And don’t try to put words in my mouth.”
“Fine, then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re asking to go to a Werewolves Anonymous meeting, emphasis on werewolves.” He paused and licked his lips, possibly thinking of the least offensive way he could say what was on his mind. “You know I’ve got your back, Don, but you’ve never really seen me unleash my inner animal before.”
“Hey, we’ve been around each other on the full moon before.”
“I know, but I was still restrained then. WA meetings aren’t like that. It’s the one place we all feel safe to let our more feral natures take over, the one time in a month where I feel like I can let it all go, you know?”
“I do know, Charlie, and I want the opportunity to be more feral too.”
“But your animal isn’t feral.”
“It can be!”
“Dude, you’re a Chihuahua! You have no feral nature!”
The words seemed to echo in small room we were in. Charlie sucked in a breath, his eyes studying me intently. I let my shoulders slump and lowered my head.
“Hey, look, that was out of line, man. I’m sorry.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and bent his knees a little in an effort to get me to meet his gaze.
“No, you’ve got a point. I’m an ankle biter.”
“Yeah, but you’re totally ferocious ankle biter.” He bumped his forehead against mine. For humans, it might look like some sort of intimate gesture between lovers, but really, Charlie and I are only friends, and for us supernatural beings of the canine persuasion, nuzzling is the equivalent to a bro-hug or a fist bump.
I tried to fight it, but the right corner of my mouth turned upward in a crooked smile. “It’s just not fair, you know? There’s tons of folklore out there about werewolves. People fear and respect you, man, and you’re not even an alpha.”
“Yeah, and the truth is I’m closer to omega than to beta.”
“But if you shifted in front of a bunch of humans, they’d all piss their pants. Me? I’d be swarmed by little old ladies wanting to scratch my belly and feed me fattening treats.”
“Hey, look on the bright side. There aren’t angry mobs coming at you with silver bullets.”
“I guess.”
“And it could be worse. You could be a rabbit shifter, or even a chipmunk. Can you say road-kill?”
That did it. I started laughing and gave Charlie my own forehead bump. He smiled wide and threw an arm around my shoulder.
“You know what you need?”
“What?”
“A drink,” he said as he urged me toward the door. “And I happen to know just the place. There’s this cute brunette who’s a regular, and she just happens to have a thing for small dogs she can carry around in her purse.”
I playfully punched Charlie’s arm. “Jerk,” I said. I didn’t really mean it.
For a werewolf, Charlie’s an okay guy.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: #210 - Feral
Warnings: Silliness.
Rating: G
Summary: Life is unfair, especially when your best friend is a werewolf and you're...something else.
Word Count: 954
Notes: This was fun to write.
Like most people, Charlie didn’t like to talk about his support group outside of meetings. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his affliction—he was very proud of who and what he was—he didn’t want to risk revealing too-personal information about his fellow “sufferers.” I’m not saying he didn’t have a right to be concerned. If an outsider with bad intentions infiltrated one of their meetings and revealed their identities to outsiders, it could ruin lives and possibly even end a few. But I, the persistent little bastard I am, still insisted upon putting Charlie in an awkward position.
“C’mon Charlie, how long have we been friends? Don’t you trust me, man?” Guilt is a weapon I wield well and I’m not too proud to use it when I need an upper-hand in an argument, especially when the other party is close to caving in to my demands.
“This isn’t about trust, Don, and you know it.” His voice was firm, but in his eyes I saw his resolve wavering. “I just don’t want to see you hurt is all.”
“If things start getting hairy—literally or figuratively—I’ll high-tail it out of there in a hurry.” I cocked my head to the right ever so slightly and opened my eyes a little wider. “Please, man? Just this once?”
“Dude, don’t give me that look. These aren’t table scraps you’re begging for.” He turned his head away from me and breathed out a resigned sigh.
I was so in.
Charlie looked back at me and studied me for a moment. “All right, fine—“
I let out a whoop of cheer and reached out to grab his hand. “Yes! I swear, man, you won’t even know I’m there.”
He allowed me to give his arm an excited couple of pumps before shoving me away lightly. “Oh, I’ll know you’re there all right. I always know when you’re near.” He folded his arms over his broad chest. “Just promise me you won’t change in front of my friends.”
“Oh what, you’re ashamed of me now?”
“Naw, man, it’s not that. You’re my best friend and I love you like a brother. It’s…well, it’s complicated. This isn’t some sort of social clique. It’s a pack, and packs can be vicious.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know, dude. I’m a pack animal too.”
Charlie wasn’t able to contain his derisive snort. “No offense, Don, but you’re not a wolf. You’re a…well, you’re domesticated.”
A little growl rumbled in the back of my throat. “Don’t judge me by my animal.”
He took a step back and raised his hands in mock surrender. “All I’m saying is—“
“That you’re the superior species?”
“No! And don’t try to put words in my mouth.”
“Fine, then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re asking to go to a Werewolves Anonymous meeting, emphasis on werewolves.” He paused and licked his lips, possibly thinking of the least offensive way he could say what was on his mind. “You know I’ve got your back, Don, but you’ve never really seen me unleash my inner animal before.”
“Hey, we’ve been around each other on the full moon before.”
“I know, but I was still restrained then. WA meetings aren’t like that. It’s the one place we all feel safe to let our more feral natures take over, the one time in a month where I feel like I can let it all go, you know?”
“I do know, Charlie, and I want the opportunity to be more feral too.”
“But your animal isn’t feral.”
“It can be!”
“Dude, you’re a Chihuahua! You have no feral nature!”
The words seemed to echo in small room we were in. Charlie sucked in a breath, his eyes studying me intently. I let my shoulders slump and lowered my head.
“Hey, look, that was out of line, man. I’m sorry.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and bent his knees a little in an effort to get me to meet his gaze.
“No, you’ve got a point. I’m an ankle biter.”
“Yeah, but you’re totally ferocious ankle biter.” He bumped his forehead against mine. For humans, it might look like some sort of intimate gesture between lovers, but really, Charlie and I are only friends, and for us supernatural beings of the canine persuasion, nuzzling is the equivalent to a bro-hug or a fist bump.
I tried to fight it, but the right corner of my mouth turned upward in a crooked smile. “It’s just not fair, you know? There’s tons of folklore out there about werewolves. People fear and respect you, man, and you’re not even an alpha.”
“Yeah, and the truth is I’m closer to omega than to beta.”
“But if you shifted in front of a bunch of humans, they’d all piss their pants. Me? I’d be swarmed by little old ladies wanting to scratch my belly and feed me fattening treats.”
“Hey, look on the bright side. There aren’t angry mobs coming at you with silver bullets.”
“I guess.”
“And it could be worse. You could be a rabbit shifter, or even a chipmunk. Can you say road-kill?”
That did it. I started laughing and gave Charlie my own forehead bump. He smiled wide and threw an arm around my shoulder.
“You know what you need?”
“What?”
“A drink,” he said as he urged me toward the door. “And I happen to know just the place. There’s this cute brunette who’s a regular, and she just happens to have a thing for small dogs she can carry around in her purse.”
I playfully punched Charlie’s arm. “Jerk,” I said. I didn’t really mean it.
For a werewolf, Charlie’s an okay guy.
