#also yes mr. bastard man (not king mr. bastard but definitely wins most punchable little coward award) is named

[albatris]

what the FUCK is up my sweet perfect friends.

it's nanowrimo day 26! sorry I didn't answer any asks

today's word count is 46,471 and yeeHAW we're close to the finish line

I finally bought a new laptop today! the guy at the store was wearing a button up shirt with a picture of dogs playing poker on it and he told us he got hit by a car. he was extremely cool

anyway today's excerpt is................. unnecessarily lengthy. lmao. basically just a big ol' chunk of a scene. it's under the cut along with the rest of the update

The barricade was understandable, of course, but surely by this point March knew it was only prolonging the inevitable. Quinn was tired, and grimy, and sore, and more than a little ticked off—they did not feel like exerting the effort to drive him out. The least March could do after being such an immeasurable inconvenience was to give up and make this last part easy.

Quinn sighed and picked up the phone. They trailed a finger down the codes on the wall till they found the right one, then they dialled.

It rang just once before someone answered.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" the voice growled, equal parts fury and fear. "Just leave me alone. You got what you came for."

"Hello to you too," Quinn said, voice slipping effortlessly into sickly-sweet cheeriness. "By process of elimination, I assume this is Reuben March?"

The speaker breathed in, and out, heavily. "You're Quinn Cooper, then?"

"Ah, so you've heard of me," Quinn said. "That certainly makes my job easier. Now, I don't suppose I can convince you to open up this door, hm? It'd save us both a lot of hassle."

"You can't get in here," March said. He spoke with what Quinn assumed was meant to be confidence, but the tremor in his voice revealed his words as nothing more than a desperate attempt to reassure himself. "I don't know how you turned off the lights, but—"

Quinn let out a delighted laugh, and twisted the phone's cord playfully. Maybe this conversation would be fun, after all.

"Oh, I haven't turned off any of these lights," they said. "I actually find them quite pleasant. They bring a certain ambience, don't they? You must tell me how you made them before I cut open your throat."

"You're—you're bluffing," March said. "You couldn't get through them. There's no way. They would have completely incapacitated you."

"You poor, sweet thing. I'm afraid someone on your team has made a tragic miscalculation."

"We had everything mapped out perfectly," March insisted, but the anxiety in his voice continued climbing and climbing. Quinn adored every syllable. "No gaps. No weak points," he went on. "The system is infallible. You're bluffing."

"Yes, I'd imagine you didn't cut any corners," Quinn agreed. "You have to be so careful when you're dealing with vampires, don't you?"

Silence. They couldn't see March's face, but they didn't need to. They knew the pieces were sinking into place. They knew the realisation was about to click. They could feel it through the phone line, singing like static. That perfect, delicious instant before all March's rising apprehension and fear broke into sheer terror.

"Motherfucker," March breathed. "You're human."

"Ding-ding-ding! There we go!" Quinn beamed. "Without those lights to worry about, it's not so hard to weasel your way in if you're as resourceful and talented as I am. And as handy with a knife."

"How did you—you let him out. You're human." March fumbled pathetically with his words. "He was completely feral. He was starving. How did he not kill you?"

"Who, Nat?" Quinn asked. "He tried to. Then I told him I'd rather he didn't, so he didn't. He's not an animal, you know."

"The—the people out there," March said. "Did he..."

"The distractions?" Quinn clarified, judgment oozing from their voice. "Those tasty little sacrifices you thought would subdue him? All safe and sound. He's a good kid. Waits when I tell him to."

March was quiet for a long time. Inhale. Exhale. Quinn was surprised he hadn't dropped his phone yet, given how sweaty and shaky he sounded.

"Then... my... my guards," he said finally.

"Right. Yes." Quinn sucked in a breath through their teeth. "I was going to tell him to hold off on eating those, too, but I was watching a cat video on my phone. One of those ones where they get the claws stuck in the screen door? Super cute. Didn't even notice the screaming till it was over."

Another pause. Exhausted. Defeated.

"I'm not opening this door," March said again.

"Okay," Quinn said. "I have ways to deal with that."

"I won't come after you, you know. If you just leave."

"God, you're boring." Quinn tapped their foot, amused. "Tell you what. I'll get out of your hair, but you've got to indulge me first. I haven't even seen you in action yet, all holed away up here like a frightened mouse. What do you say, March? You up for a little game?"

"No," he said. "No, I'm staying here. You can't touch me. That thing can't touch me."

"That thing is waiting patiently for me in the foyer downstairs," Quinn replied. "It's just you and me now. Nice even playing field."

"Whatever this is, I'm—I'm not participating. I'm not playing."

"That's adorable," Quinn said, then let every last drop of good-natured cheer drain from their voice. "But you don't have a choice."

quinn getting a little too into intimidating the shit out of people: an ongoing saga

their narration through this whole ordeal is like "oh what a fucking hassle, this whole day has been just one inconvenience after another, ugh" but they are fucking seething with rage lmao

anyway soz for long excerpt and lots of dumbass dialogue without much action. I can make this part like half the length probably but whatever. ur getting it all today bc it's NaNo and rambling segments of story are not only allowed but entirely encouraged. yeet.

today's mood is questionable prawn cold rolls, and today's jam is "the best ever death metal band in denton" by the mountain goats

g'night. I have so much to do tomorrow