#ch:alain

[dariodanoite]

sting like a beamer | alain & dario

LOCATION: garage babineaux. PARTIES: @carbrakes-and-stakes and @dariodanoite. SUMMARY: dario gets a job from an old...friend?  

Dario was careful to make sure he’d be on time for his meeting with Alain, knowing he really needed to get another job if he wasn’t going to be begging on the streets anytime soon. Sure, he had the tattoo shop, but minimum wage with just one job wasn’t exactly enough to keep him afloat when he’d come back into this world with nothing. Beyond that, though- he was anxious to see Alain again. Would he look the same? Dario himself had grown a few inches while he’d been missing after it was widely assumed his whole family had been murdered, their house burned to the ground. It had Hunters written all over it to the trained eye. Beyond his extra height, he’d filled out a bit more as well, no longer a lanky seventeen-year-old, but a fully grown man. Now, he waltzed into the office of the garage in an attempt to find his old mentor, nostalgia practically smacking him in the face. There hadn’t been all that many places in White Crest filled with strong enough memories to give him any sort of reaction that came close. After all, he’d only lived here for a year before everything went to shit. But he went up to the attendant working the desk, simply saying. “Is Alain here? I had an appointment with him about the mechanic job.” Would Alain even remember him? It’d been thirteen years, and he’d just been a single snobby kid all that time ago. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Alain was almost done repairing yet another windshield when he heard his name told. It was just him and his colleague at the counter and so the garage was almost quiet, which happened rarely enough to be noted. An eyebrow raising, it took him a second to remember the appointment he had with the kid. Alright, maybe it was not a kid, he corrected himself as he took a look at the guy standing in the entrance. “C’est quoi ce bordel,” he had a confused look on his face as he approached him. What was his name again? It had been God knows how many years but he knew he’d seen this guy before. Even if Alain was used to people disappearing, he remembered that when Dario -there was the name- went missing, the whole town talked about it. “Well you haven’t changed one bit,” he looked up at him and held up his hand. “Don’t stay here, come in,” he pointed at the front door, as if to tell his employee to close for lunch break, and walked toward a car which already had the hood opened up.

As Alain came into view, another sharp wave of memories hit Dario. In truth, he hadn’t thought all that much about his time here in White Crest since he’d been back. And perhaps...that had been for good reason. He didn’t need a reminder of all the things he’d lost. Nevertheless, he couldn’t deny that he was happy to see Alain. Someone who’d known him before- certainly it might be validation with the state that he was alive, but...perhaps it was also simply a reminder to Dario that he hadn’t died all those years ago. “You still speaking French when you know damn well know one can understand it?” he asked with the beginnings of a grin, perhaps the first one he’d granted to anyone since being human once more. Relief washed over him. Alain did remember him. “Well- I’m taller. Wish I could say the same for you.” In only moments, it seemed Dario had fallen back into something closer to what he’d been before his days as a jaguar, poking some fun at Alain. But he followed after the other man, eyes looking over the car that was in front of him.

“Je vois pas le problème,” Alain replied, raising an eyebrow. It was common for the mechanic to speak to himself in French as he worked, and he exclusively cursed in French if he happened to pinch his fingers while working on an engine. “You are taller, yes,” he deadpanned as he heard the comment on his own height. Well that was certainly original. “You could have learned new jokes while you were away,” he drily replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright. Can you tell me what’s wrong with this car?” There weren’t many ways to know that, and Alain figured that his first question wouldn’t be too hard. What he was most interested in was to see if he could fix that quickly enough. It wasn’t much work and could be done in less than an hour.

Perhaps in a bit of a teasing and stubborn tone, Dario simply replied, “Dois podem jogar esse jogo.” Alain could have a taste of his own medicine, not that Dario actually minded all that much when the older man babbled in his French. But he’d always enjoyed poking some fun at the mechanic. “My jokes are fine as they are.” The hint of a smile was still on his lips, the rush of having someone even somewhat familiar to talk with still filling him with that grain of excitement. But as Alain asked about the car, he grew more focused, knowing he needed this job. Otherwise- he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t end up sleeping on a street corner someday soon. “Definitely. You want me to just do it, yes? Fix it?” Part of him was itching to get to work, missing the feeling of fixing a car and doing something with his hands.

Lucky for you, I was forced to study latin, and understood mostly everything, Alain thought to himself, closing his eyes in despair. Did he really want this smartass back in his garage? His arms still firmly crossed over his chest, he shook his head as Dario declared that his jokes were good enough for now. Well maybe Alain had a shitty sense of humor then. He had already been told that it was an acquired taste, after all. “Well enough jokes, get to work,” he motioned toward the car with his chin, a stern look on his face. Dario might have been a nice kid, Alain didn’t want a clown in his shop. He had a reputation to maintain and old times’ sake was not going to count in Dario’s application. “Do you really want me to answer this question?” He drily replied, heading to the workbench to pick up his cup of coffee and sitting down on a stool for now. “Maybe you could start by trying to turn the engine on?” You could tell from his tone that he was slightly annoyed.

Perhaps Dario should cool it with his jokes, but he’d simply been so excited to see a familiar face. There weren’t many familiar faces left in his life anymore. He was somewhat surprised Alain didn’t seem phased by him being missing for thirteen years, or his family being murdered and their house being burned but….not entirely shocked that Alain was focused on more important things. That was the past. This was now. At least- that had been the method Dario was trying to employ as for late. “Just making sure, Alain,” Dario said back with more of a relaxed air than he’d had as of late. He was much changed in demeanor from his seventeen-year-old- self, quieter and not nearly as vibrant, but parts of him were still here. Nevertheless, he began the process of diagnosing exactly what was wrong with the car, his hands remembering the process of their own accord.

Alain looked at his former apprentice with a stern look on his face. You could see the fondness in his eyes if you were attentive, but now was not the time for this. He stood up from his stool after a certain time, to get a better look of Dario’s look. If it seemed at moments that it had been a while since he had been around a car, Alain figured that it was due to stress, and whatever backstory that led Dario to disappear for a decade. “Well, I’ll probably have to stay around you when you work for the first week or so,” he said once Dario was done both confirming that he had a job, and telling him that he would have to work hard to keep said job. 

As he finished up, Dario wiped the grease from his hands on a dirty rag as best he could. He’d enjoyed fixing the car, realizing there were some gaps in his knowledge. But hopefully that’d come back soon enough with the rest of the things he’d forgotten. Spending thirteen years as a jaguar did some strange things to the mind, and the memories he found foggiest were the ones that came just before his family’s untimely demise, and the year surrounding it. Apart from those momentary struggles though, he’d loved the feeling of a car underneath his hand once more, the way working on it had taken up most of his mind, not letting him think about some things he’d rather forget. It was a momentary respite. The grin Alain got in response was probably one of the widest he’d felt since turning back to human, mixed with utter relief. Maybe he’d be able to get out of the garage the strange cat lady had let him stay in for now sooner rather than later. “Thank you,” he said, with perhaps more sincerity than he’d ever given to Alain, desperation making him eternally grateful. “You won’t regret it.. And I meant what I said like- online about- paying me in food or something if that’s more legal or now. Or whatever.”

Approaching the car, Alain rubbed at his jawline. He had a look at the boy, or should he say the man’s work, and while it had taken him a bit longer than it should have, it was a job well done. There was no reason that he would not improve if given the chance, and a little push in the right direction. Since Alain had already had plans of taking an apprentice, this would not be much different, and he was certain that Dario would learn a lot more quickly than anyone else. “I would feel terribly uncomfortable paying you in food,” he gave his new mechanic a pat on the arm and asked him to follow him to the register. Putting what would be worth one week of paycheck in an envelope, the hunter handed it over to Dario, without a word. He would have to replace it later with cash he kept at home, but this seemed like a more than ideal solution for now. “We can sign your contract later, when you get your ID back.” The man paused, sighing. “You spoke to the guy I told you about ? Winston?”

It seemed that Dario’s gratitude wouldn’t end as he followed Alain to the register, and he held the envelope the older man had handed him with a slight reverence. He had a job. A way to have some sort of income. Did this mean he wouldn’t have to eat only ramen for every meal? Well- he might still have to. He needed to pay the strange cat lady that had let him live in her garage something in the way of rent, most likely. But either way, it felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He wasn’t rich, but he had a means of surviving. A simple nod was what he gave Alain when it came to contract terms, unable to form words for a moment because of the sheer amount of gratitude coursing through his veins. “Yes- yes he said- something about my immigration papers. Or records. They took my fingerprints so- they might be able to prove I’m me with those. But...really...I don’t know how to thank you, Alain.” It seemed that he’d been humbled from the sarcastic man that had walked in here an hour or so ago. “And I mean it when I said you won’t regret it.”

“Oh ? That’s… that’s pretty good for you,” patting the man on the side of the arm, Alain gave him his brightest smile so far. It was not often that life rewarded kind people, and to see that Dario’s troubles would come to an halt (maybe not an end), soon, was making him feel really happy, right now. “I’m… That’s great,” he repeated. The mechanic had, since the moment he offered Dario to come here, been worried about how this all would end, and to know that maybe this would not end terribly, was a relief. Now time would tell whether Dario would become a proper employee, although he was not worried. Back then, he learned fastly and always showed interest for what he was taught. This would be fine. He had good hopes.

[nelllraiser]

nell no yell (maybe) | alain & nell

LOCATION: dell’s tavern and alain’s house. TIMING: shortly after alain sustained his concussion. PARTIES: @carbrakes-and-stakes​ and @nelllraiser​.

If there was one thing Nell could desperately use after a week like this. It was a drink. For once, she didn’t feel like having company, unsure how to act like everything was normal around people at the moment. Sometimes, it was strange to think of how different her problems might have been if she’d been- well- normal. Not once had she ever wished to be normal, but sometimes she simply grew curious what her life would be like. Would she have gone to college? No, that was doubtful. But what would her place have been in a mundane world, when all she did now was so deeply steeped in the supernatural? She wouldn't trade it for anything, but she couldn't help but vaguely wonder what the grass might be like on the other side. This was what she was thinking of when she stepped into Dell’s Tavern late on a Monday night. It shouldn’t be busy, and she was right as she looked up at the bar. There was only one person sitting there. But a double take later, the beginnings of a scowl was coming over her features. She knew that profile. Alain. In a moment she was marching up to him, and voicing her demands. “We need to talk.”

Alain had left the hospital almost as soon as the nurse turned her back on him, which was about 12 hours after the incident. Unsure of what had happened to him, all he could trust were flashes of last night that appeared to him at times. Blanche holding a pan, then not holding it anymore. And still, he could swear that it was what hit him. None of this make sense. And man was he angry at how things went down. The timing could not have been worse. He could have dealt with Blanche’s anger and pain, but he couldn’t forgive himself for letting her see that. Maybe he should have stopped. Postponed. If those troubles had left his mind now, it was only because he had been sitting and drinking for quite a while already at Dell’s, and that his attention was now focused on a basketball game on tv. Still, when he heard the irritating sound of an already too familiar voice, Alain realized that he probably should have picked any other bar than this one. No one would have bothered him at the Silver bullet. “You need to drink your liquor in silence, just like me,” he drily replied, not even giving her a glance. 

There was no way in hell Nell would do as Alain requested when it came to drinking in silence. She had far too many questions for the man, and even though she’d come to Dell’s hoping to escape for a moment— she couldn’t do that when one of her problems was glaring her in the face in the form of Alain. There wasn’t much patience left in her, and she hadn’t started out with much in the first place when it came to him and his attempts to kill Remmy. “No,” she said bluntly, succinctly. “Are you going to try and kill Remmy again or not?” Even though she knew Alain hadn’t dragged Remmy to his house or anything, he’d still been planning to go through with the killing. He would have left Remmy die thinking the world was better off without them. No one deserved a death like that unless it was true. 

"Why do you fucking care ? It's just another fucking monster. How's that different from the things you catch for the Ring?" Alain's eyes reluctantly moved away from the TV screen to look at her. Whoever Nell was, he did not buy that holier than thou attitude she had been showing him since they met at his house. She took his job, he quit it because even he thought it was too rough. So really who did she think she was, lecturing him when she, of all people could have understood what it was like to be in his shoes. Was she blinded by Blanche's certitudes? Either way, he would not be lectured by a hypocrite. Finishing his glass of scotch, he raised his finger at the bartender, getting his wallet from his coat. Clearly this was no longer a safe haven for him. "I'm leaving."

“They’re not just another monster, Alain! That’s the whole point. They have feelings. Hopes. Dreams. And they’re a nice person. They don’t deserve to have that all just taken away from them.” But then Nell frowned, not expecting her and The Ring to be brought into this. “I told you- I only catch the bad ones. The ones who like causing pain.” Perhaps she hasn’t said it in so many words, but she has tried her best. She didn’t particularly think she’d ever change Alain’s mind when it came to this, but that wouldn’t stop her from arguing her point. She never knew when to quit. Or perhaps...it was just that she didn’t ever want to. This moment was no exception as she decided to invite herself along to wherever Alain was headed. “Great. So where are we going? Sure you don’t want a drink for the road?”

“I don’t care,” Alain, with all the patience he had, wasn’t feeling all too patient right now. Maybe it was the fact that he had been drinking nearly a whole bottle of scotch by himself, but his tolerance for bullshit wasn’t at his highest now. He paid his bill and stood up from his stool carefully, unsure of what his legs would do when they’d touch the ground. Gripping tightly onto the counter, he looked down at his feet, then slowly looked up toward the door. Alright, he was definitely more dizzy than he thought. It had been a decade and a half since the last time he had been drinking this much, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. “What? No, I’m heading back home,” he took a moment to gather his thoughts. Why did she even want to follow him anyway. Had he been sober, he would have told her to fuck off and head back to hypocrisy town, but he did not have that type of wit with him now. “I don’t need your company, I’m fine.”

“Yeah that much is obvious,” Nell retorted, some heat entering her words. How could he just not care? She knew it most likely had to do with his Hunter upbringing, but still. It wasn’t like you could just...turn empathy off in a person, right? At least- not a person like Alain, she thought. But she squinted at him as he stood, taking note of his uncertainty. “Are you...drunk?” What was that saying about drinking alone? She wasn’t sure, but she knew it was generally thought of as being bad. Nevermind the fact that she’d been coming here to drink alone. “Yeah you can go home. I don’t care. I’m just saying I’m coming with you, because I’m not done talking to you.” More like talking at him. “And you said we could talk later. About all...this. I didn’t ask if you wanted company.” She wasn’t particularly planning on giving him a choice. 

“Then why do you keep bothering me with that? I won’t change my mind,” Alain grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. He had given up on fastening the buttons of his coat already. Walking to the front door proved to be doable, although he was caught back by his dizziness when then cool air of the night hit his face. Damn, was it that late already? He was hungry. At least, that’s the information his brain got when it connected the dark night to the fact that Alain had not had food since it was still sunny out there. “On one condition, I’m starving and I’ll only talk with you if you have dinner with me,” he was in no condition to drive and Al’s diner wasn’t too far. Either that or she was able to drive him home and help him cook dinner. He still had some civet de chevreuil from when Nora came by too. 

“I’ve never given up in my entire life, and I’m not gonna start doing it now.” Especially when a friend’s life was on the line. Not to mention all the other innocent people Alain might possibly go out and try to kill. Nell rolled her eyes as she watched him try to button his jacket, and called him to wait when he stepped outside of the bar. “Stand still, you dumbass,” she said before reaching out to try and button the jacket he’d been struggling with. “Should you even be drinking this much after a concussion? They never let me drink after concussions.” His request surprised her though, and her head tilted curiously to the side. “I can’t drive you anywhere. I have a motorcycle with no sidecar, and I’m not letting you on it while you’re drunk. But if you have some other way of getting there...I suppose.”

“Why do you care?” Alain glanced up from her hands, which he had been staring at the whole time she was buttoning his coat. He had never been fond of being touched by people he barely knew. “No, seriously, why do you care? If I die, your best friend is safe, right? That’s how you think this works, huh?” He shook his head in disgust and disdain, and immediately regretted it. He felt so dizzy. “Bordel de…” Alain muttered, staring at the tip of his shoes for an instant, focusing. Yeah no. He raised his finger, looking like he was about to throw up. Yup. Making a face, he took a couple of steps away from Nell and came back to her wiping his chin clean. Well, if she did not completely hate him after this. “A motorcycle, huh?” He pointed at the car parked behind them, “that’s mine. Can you drive stick?” He laid his back against the wall and took a deep breath. Vomiting had helped, it seemed. “There must be cabs or something, I don’t know, Nell.”

At first, Nell mistook his words. “Why do I care? Because I don’t want people who don’t deserve to die to just get murdered.” But she soon realized her mistake as he repeated his words, and her lips pursed. “I’m not stupid! I know you’re not the only one who would want to kill them.” Why did she care, though? She couldn’t really...provide an answer. “Maybe I’m just not as eager of a killing machine as you are.” Probably a lie. Nell’s nose scrunched as he returned after his moment of weakness, reluctantly reaching into the large pocket of her jacket and rustling around. In a moment, she’d procured a mint from some random restaurant she’d dined in and wordlessly handed it over. “Ahhhh- I don’t- exactly have a liscnese. We can just Lyft or something, though,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Where are we going?”

"Can't murder a dead person," Alain observed unwrapping the mint she had given him with a sad smile. It did solve at least one of his problems. "Thanks," he scrunched up his nose and looked away from her. "Are you sure about that though?" Clearing his throat, he added : "Being a killing machine, I mean. I've seen that look in your eyes the other day," a look he saw in each of his family members' eyes, in his own eyes. She probably did not want to admit it, because it would mean that she was just like him. Maybe it was the alcohol but Alain was connecting quite a few dots here, that linked him to Nell. "I'd like to go home and have some food," he replied. She would do whatever she pleased with that. 

Nell huffed, doing her best not to yell again, though Alain was making it very difficult. “Look. If we’re going to talk. You’re not allowed to say things like that,” she said firmly, pointing a stern finger in his direction. “They might have died, but they are not currently dead. You can’t act like this is black and white!” But she looked up at him, uncertain what he was trying to say for a moment. “Maybe. But not like you. I don’t kill people or things that don’t deserve it.” Ahhh, perhaps she should have left the bit out about people but...it was too late now. Besides, she’d only killed a few human people. Nell sighed. Of course he wanted to have food at his house. “Fine,” she said, putting in his address on the app. Soon enough, a car had arrived for them. 

Alain frowned at her as a response. Say what things? The truth. “You only care because they are your friend. I could kill hundreds of other zombies that you wouldn’t tell me this crap,” he sat down on the floor as he waited for the car to get there. His head was still spinning, and he felt more comfortable like this. “People ?” He raised an eyebrow, “do you kill humans? Nell,” he pulled on her coat to get her attention, “Nell. That doesn’t make you a better person. Killing doesn’t care for feelings or who deserved it,” this was something he had heard his father say when he was a kid, and quite frankly he agreed with that. “Fine,” he repeated, getting into the car. Could Nell even cook, he found himself wondering, and so he asked her that question. 

“Wrong,” Nell said stubbornly, shortly. “I only kill things that hurt other things intentionally or too often. And if it’s not intentional...I try to help.” Her moral compass wasn’t perfect, but it worked well enough for her. At first, she pretended like she didn’t hear him asking about people, but it was impossible to ignore when he tugged on her jacket. She looked down, finding that Alain actually looked...somewhat and somehow endearing in this position- like a child trying to get an adult’s attention. “It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly, hoping he’d forget that detail when he was sober. “I never said I was the better person. And yeah killing can’t care cause it’s an action- not the person behind it! Maybe we kill more than most people- but the point is we’re not machines. We can think and choose for ourselves. We don’t have to just kill no matter what.” He wanted her to cook? She was surprised by his question, but proudly declared, “Of course I can cook. And I’m good at it.” 

Alain raised an eyebrow. If those were her standards then vigilantes like him and herself both deserved to die by her own hand. Still, Alain was convinced that there was something noble in what he did, ridding the population of the scum, the menace that represented the undead. “You make it sound like you are holier than me, you did back at my house the other day, and you kind of do it again, now,” he smiled, looking up at her. This was in no way a personal attack against her, but rather something he had noticed. “We’re both trash, aren’t we?” He was not really expecting an answer to his question. Who would admit to being trash. Alain often drank too much when he was in a bad place, and often, he ended up in an even worse place as his drinking got worse. The idea of a good meal when they would get home did for a moment, manage to brighten his mood a little. “Me too. We should cook together sometimes. Share recipes.” Inside the car, Alain was leaning against the door. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and turned away from Nell, looking outside.

Nell’s bottom lip jutted out in a stubborn pout when he smiled, refusing to give him the satisfaction of him possibly being right in anything. “It’s just different.” But her gaze slid over to his, uncertainty entering her voice as his words surprised her. “You...think you’re trash?” Sad. That was sad. But she didn’t want to feel pity for this man. Unless he was only joking. His words made her own confidence waver, thinking of all the people she’d alienated in her life with bad choices. “Bea’s more inventive than me,” she deflected, for some reason suddenly a bit self-conscious. “She likes to try new dishes and things, and whip new things together. I just- do what I know.” It was perhaps a bit of a flip in their personalities, a bit opposite of what some might expect. 

Alain glanced away from her. "Sure," he didn't think too much about it, after all, he had already made up his mind as to what he thought of Nell. To him this was a story of hypocrisy. Not that he could blame her. It was hard to see the truth. Alain was too aware that what he did was problematic and that most humans did not get it. He was fine with that. He didn't actually consider himself to be trash. But still would have worn that title with honor, as long as it meant that people would be safe. "Bea?" Probably some friend of her. He shut his eyes for a moment, yawning. He covered his mouth and sighed. "As long as you know the basics, you can do everything with a bit of perseverance," he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. They would be at his place soon and he wondered what would happen then. She did say that they needed to talk, and he wondered if this was still on the table.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Nell said stubbornly as he ignored the comment about trash. “My sister,” was the short explanation she offered, not particularly wanting to get into her family’s life story just now. “My sister who doesn’t know about the Ring,” she added as an afterthought, She figured the chances of Alain and Bea crossing paths was slim but— it was better to make sure he knew she didn’t want that bit of information being spread around, right? Of course, she couldn’t know if he would actually respect that wish. “I’m not saying I only know the basics. I’m just saying- I’m not going on Chopped or whatever anytime soon.” By now though, they’d arrived at his place, and she was exiting the car while keeping an eye on Alain. The last thing she needed was him to trip over his own feet and take a tumble or something.

“I wonder why you didn’t tell her about the Ring,” Alain gave her a knowing look, shaking his head at her. “Scared that she’ll hate you for it?” He smiled to himself, and got out of the car before she could ask more questions. Once again, the cold air was a relief, and he stood for an instant there, taking deep breaths. Still, as much as he felt better out there, he still stumbled on his own foot and didn’t fall face first on the ground because he hit the front door first. The loud thud woke both his dogs up, who started barking as a result. “Woops,” he laughed to himself, and searching for his keys, finally got his hands on the them and started struggling to get them into the lock. Alain finally gave up and left it to Nell to do it for him. 

Nell sent Alain a dirty look, warning him off the subject. “I know what you’re trying to do.” Or at least she thought she did. He was trying to show they were the same, wasn’t he? “No that’s not why. I just don’t need more lectures from her. Besides I already told you. I only bring in the ones that deserve it.” But she was curious. “Is that why you left? Didn’t want people hating you for it?” Instinctively, she reached out as he stumbled to help catch him, but it seemed like the door had already kept him from smashing his face in. “It’s okay, puppies,” Nell called out absently, perhaps a little excited that she might actually get to meet Alain’s dogs this time instead of just yell at him. But then she was grumbling about Alain being a “little man-baby” as she took the keys, and opened the door. Cursing the fact that she couldn’t just magic a light on as she was still trying to keep her cover, she began to search blindly for a light switch against the wall.

“If you already know what I’m trying to do already, then you must think it’s true,” someone so defensive could not have a clear conscience. And maybe it explained why she was so fond of him in the first place. A fan. Alain had never before had people call themselves that, and it bugged him that she would love what he did at the Ring and hate what he did out there. The things he had done there were so much worse. “I don’t care about people’s opinion, I would be a poor hunter if I did,” his voice raised as he snapped, when he looked at her, it was with anger in his eyes. “I left because you cannot spend your life hunting and then working at the ring. I was losing my fucking mind there,” he spat those words with sorrow and pain. Thinking about his past brought him back to a place he tried to forget about. And it reminded him of Audrey and how much he missed her, still to this day. The door opened, he did not wait for her to turn on the light, and found his way to the couch without too much trouble, still fuming. 

“No, I don’t,” Nell replied simply, and stubbornly. “We have very different practices when it comes to supernatural creatures, apparently.” It was obvious he didn’t care about people’s opinions when it came to his monster hunting, but she frowned as he seemed to get angry, not particularly thinking that her question would get such a response. What was it about it that apparently made him sensitive? But his new words had a different depth to them, and she tried to look closer as she asked more questions. “What do you mean? Don’t you still spend your life hunting, anyway? Losing your mind how?” Nell vaguely remembered where the kitchen was from the last time she’d been here, and began searching through cupboards and the like to see exactly what she was working with. “I would have brought your frying pan back with me if I’d known I’d be cooking.” It was the very beginnings of a tease.

“You’re not a hunter, you wouldn’t get it,” Alain mumbled to himself. People who weren’t raised to hunt couldn’t have the same rules as he did, as hunters did. You were taught to hunt vampires and zombies, and that’s what you did, no exceptions, no questions asked, no feelings, no crying, no drama. All of this seemed natural to him, and he had never considered it to be murder. Those things were dead anyway. And he did not consider them to be human beings either. Did people mourn for the innocent cow in their plate? No, even though that cow did nothing wrong her whole life. What was the difference. He did not expect anyone but hunters to get that. “What I mean, is that you can’t spend your days and night doing the exact same thing. It changes my mind, doing something else, something not so violent.” Once again, she wouldn’t get it, the isolation inherent to the position of hunter. It had taken him years of therapy, the love of a wonderful woman, and a lot of time for him to get where he was now. He knew that he still had a lot of issues but he had never felt so well as he did these days. Still, he wishes he still had Audrey to share it with. “You can keep the damn thing. It’s a Creusot pan, it’ll last you a lifetime. You should give it to your zombie friend when you’re gone,” he scoffed. Always with the bitter humour. 

“I wouldn’t get it, because I wasn’t taught to have a blind prejudice,” Nell parried, her words not particularly filled with emotion. It was simply a fact, and she was trying to do more than blindly blame Alain for who he was. After all- prejudice was learned, not inherent. “And when you were doing something so violent? It changed you how?” Nell asked curiously, perhaps the smallest curiosity forming in her about what long-term work at the Ring might do to someone. Had she known his thoughts about isolation, she might have disagreed. Making and keeping friends had always been difficult for her, and now with her new line of work- that didn’t exactly change. At least Alain had other Hunters to relate to. She was some strange in between. Neither Hunter nor civilian. But thus far, she didn’t feel as if there were any negative effects on her from all the violence in her life. Most of the things she did were steeped in violence at this point. Capturing for the Ring. Fighting for the Ring. Bounty hunting. Though she supposed she did have her garden. Did Alain have the same reasons for gardening as she did? To know the joy of creating something rather than constantly destroying? “When I’m gone? Are you planning my death already? And what do you want to eat?” She was still getting her bearings of the kitchen, looking for items she might need.

“Don’t be cute. Doesn’t suit you,” he grumbled. One of Alain’s dogs approached him and rested his head on his lap, not too concerned with the state of his owner. Or maybe they were used to it. After losing Audrey, he had been an unconsolable wreck. His loss fueled his hatred of the supernatural even more in ways that people like Nell would never understand. She was too young to even think about death and what it meant, and so was Blanche. “Unlike you people, I wasn’t raised thinking the world is a nice place, and the ring comforted me with that idea.” Considering that Alain hadn’t protested about the head in his lap, Orion had seen it fitting to just climb on top of him and ask for more pets, which the hunter was happy to offer. Two dogs, a house and an enterprise. This probably didn’t seem like much but those things kept him going. “You know, I think you should tell Blanche about it, and whoever you care about. They’ll eventually find out about what it is you do. It’s going to be too late then,” he yawned loudly. “If you keep fighting or working or whatever it is you do for the Ring, you’ll die sooner than later. Although you must already know that.”

Nell gave the dog near Alain a wistful look, wishing she could pet one of the dogs. They were very cute. Absently, she wondered if Greg might like to meet some dogs some day. She knew he wasn’t actually a dog, but maybe he’d still have fun playing with them. After all- humans liked playing with dogs, didn’t they? “Too bad I’m just naturally cute.” But she sighed before saying, “I know it’s not a nice place now. I’m not a child.” Again she watched as Orion seemed all to happy with Alain, wondering if the other pup might grace her with its presence. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said reluctantly. “My sister already hates me, and Blanche- well- maybe I could tell Blanche.” Things had changed since she’d initially thought better of telling her friend. Nell shrugged before saying. “Death doesn’t scare me.” Even though he hadn’t told her what he wanted to eat, she did her best with what she could find, heating a pan on the stove.

“Then quit acting like a damn child, you can’t and you won’t be saving everyone,” Alain looked over the back of his couch, trying to straighten himself up a little, although the dog complicated things for him. “Orion, you’re crushing me, you idiot,” he told his dog in French, although kissing the animal’s snout anyway, and getting his whole face licked in return. Alain very absent-mindedly listened to Nell at this point, and was starting to feel quite sleepy now. And so he did not get to yell at Nell for saying something so cheesy as Death doesn’t scare me, or to lecture her about how important it was to be scared of death. It wasn’t long before a steady and loud enough snore could be heard coming from the living room.

“I’m not a child!” Nell said a bit more forcefully this time, far too tired of everyone telling her she was one. Just because she was younger, and had different ideas and ways of dealing with them didn’t mean she was any less than them. For a long while, she simply prattled on at Alain, determined to get something through his head as she continued to cook. But when she next turned around, she found he was fast asleep. Honestly,the audacity of him to fall asleep while she was cooking him a good meal. But her annoyance faded, and she instead put the meal she’d finished in the fridge for him later placing a somewhat snarky note on the counter, telling him where it was. And then she was out the door, giving a solemn little wave goodbye to the dogs, and locking it behind her.

[elains]

original character moodboards — alain sebastien du lisieux 

drunkenness is temporary suicide