Carson Durand (dontlaugh) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-08-31 20:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | #november 2017, carson, carson x nic, nic |
Who: Carson and Nic
When: Friday, Nov 10, evening, right after this scene
Where: Castell’s Spice Shop
Status: Complete
It was difficult to feel good about anything surrounding whatever was happening to them, but at least they had a vague plan and a direction now. Carson didn’t know if it would work or be a waste of time, or if Jane would just dream-rape them all or some shit, but honestly he was too tired to care much at this point. If they could get it fixed, he wanted to do that, but he just felt so helpless about it all. He was along for the ride here, that was it. All he could do was hope.
There was something else he wanted to address before he left though, and Carson lingered after the little group of dreamers dispersed, murmuring his goodbyes and hanging back as the others left. Rylee had talked to Nic about the dreams, and being a witch, and it had occurred to Carson that maybe Nic could help him with his Other Problem too. Or maybe Nic would freak out and shun him or some shit, Carson didn’t know. He just knew he needed all the help he could get with this werewolf situation. Maybe Nic knew some magic that the other dude Rylee had talked to didn’t know. Hands stuffed into his front hoodie pocket, Carson turned back toward Nic and cleared his throat. “You, uh ... got another couple of minutes?” he asked.
It surprised Nic a little that Carson had lingered, since the last time they met everyone had been keen to leave as soon as possible, but he didn’t think anything of it. Neil wasn’t exactly a conversationalist and Jules was a high school student. Of all of them, the one person Nic thought he might’ve been able to talk to all this about in more detail was Carson, even if he didn’t know him well. It helped that Rylee had come to talk to him, putting that bridge in place, and Nic wondered how much she’d told her cousin. It wasn’t like Nic had tried to hide what he was around the other dreamers. They were dealing with some weird shit already. Being a witch seemed like nothing by comparison. “Sure,” he said, offering a small smile. “What’s up?”
Carson shuffled his feet a little bit, adjusting his weight and gazing down at the tips of his sneakers while he asked himself if he was actually about to make this confession. Telling Rylee had been ridiculously difficult, because he was so terrified of losing her. Telling someone else carried a whole new rack of baggage with it. But Nic was something Else too -- a witch, apparently -- so maybe he would understand better. And maybe he had some ideas of what Carson could do to keep Rylee safe. “I, uh ... Rylee told me she came and talked to you not too long ago about all this ... and that you, um ...” he trailed off and blew some air through his lips, forcing himself to look up and meet Nic’s eyes. “I have a problem. Worse than this one. And I need help from somebody who might actually know about this kinda shit.”
Nic could read between the lines well enough. Rylee had definitely told Carson he was a witch. And whatever problem he was experiencing he thought he might be able to help. In truth, Nic usually thought he was pretty good when it came to supernatural shit. And if he didn’t know about it, his sister usually did. But he felt lost when it came to the dream issues they were experiencing, had proved himself to be utterly worthless on that count, so he was surprised Carson would take a chance on him. He clearly seemed uncomfortable with this conversation, but Nic wasn’t sure if it was him or the subject matter. “Yeah, it didn’t seem worth it to hide it with what’s going on,” he said, meaning the dream issue they were both experiencing. “So… what kind of a problem are we talking about?”
Carson was pretty desperate, and he was completely clueless about everything that was going on, so Nic had to know more than he did about something. Or knew someone who did. Or at least had some ideas to pitch him. That was what he was hoping for, anyway. He just had to swallow his nerves and blurt it out. The fear of rejection was strong, but it wasn’t like he and Nic were best friends, but telling anybody but Rylee anything was pretty terrifying. What if Nic was some kind of monster hunter or something? Carson was a monster now. His breathing had gotten a bit heavier, anxiety creeping up his spine, his hands in fists in his pocket. His body was ready to run, but he hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. “I, uh ... I’m ... I got ... bitten. By something. And after the last full moon ...” Carson stopped to clear his throat, staring intently over Nic’s shoulder and trying not to look like he was completely panicking. “I’m a werewolf,” he finished in a strained whisper. “And I really, uh ... need some help.”
As soon as Carson said ‘bitten’ and ‘full moon’, Nic knew. It was the only reasonable explanation. People didn’t think to mention the moon otherwise. But the confirmation still brought a quiet curse out of him before he began to nod. “Okay, um, yeah. We can handle this,” he said, rubbing his hands together as his mind began to churn. He’d thought, maybe, that there was another werewolf, that it seemed a busy night for a werewolf to kill that woman and then for Lem and Vex to turn around and kill it. But he didn’t want to go down that route. Even if Carson was the one who killed her, he was getting help now and that’s what mattered. “So, where do you want to start? Like, if it were me, I’d want a plan for the next full moon. What did you do for the last one?” Now he wished they knew if Vex was going to turn or not. If he wasn’t, then they had a spare cage sitting around, but Nic didn’t know of a guaranteed way to find out.
Nic so quickly accepted it and declared they could handle it and started thinking, Carson almost cried from sheer gratitude. He hadn’t known what to expect, but an instant brainstorming session hadn’t been it. Which he supposed didn’t give Nic a lot of credit, but Carson was so used to thinking everyone would think he was crazy because of this, if they weren’t believers, or they would know he was dangerous if they did ... it was a pleasant surprise. “Uh ... a friend of mine, another guy who like, knows, you know? He took me out to a cabin in the woods, and we tried to shackle me to the floor, and he used some tranquilizers ... none of it worked.” Carson’s stomach twisted in a sick feeling -- he’d gotten out, and god knew what he’d done. A woman was dead, and it could’ve been him. But that was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “I got out,” he added quietly.
“You weren’t the only one,” Nic sighed. He didn’t know if the other werewolf had “gotten out”, but he sure as hell had been on the loose. And if this was Carson’s first full moon to shift, then he couldn’t have been the one to kill Vex’s aunt. “I’m a big believer in moving forward. And putting the past behind you. You did what you could, more than most people would think to do, and you’ll do better next time. We can build a cage. I actually, well… I helped some friends build one for the last full moon, but they might need it. So we can build another, wherever you want. And if you want me there on the next full moon, I’m pretty confident I could stop you if the cage doesn’t. Does that— I know that’s a lot.” He was information dumping, so he stopped and leaned back against the counter. It was a little odd admitting so much to a stranger, but Carson had shared a pretty big secret with him. He figured it all evened out in the end.
Moving forward. Carson wasn’t sure how to manage that. Sadie Gaines couldn’t move forward, ever again, and that might be his fault. Sure, it might’ve been the other werewolf’s fault instead, but Carson didn’t know that. He wasn’t sure it was possible to know. He tried not to let his brain get caught up in that insane spiral and instead focus on what Nic was saying to him. He had friends who had a cage, who’d already planned for werewolf shit of some kind, and they could build another. He was sure he looked pretty stupid, gaping at Nic as he tried to process that information. He’d been hoping for help, but that kind of immediate, ready help was a little unexpected. “They might ... need it?” he asked, trying to catch up. “They’re not ... they wouldn’t, like, kill me, right?” Carson asked it cautiously, because he didn’t want to be insulting, but he couldn’t think of many reasons someone would have a werewolf cage, and that one was the most worrisome.
“No! No, they wouldn’t hurt you,” Nic said immediately, wanting to clear that up. “They were trying to catch one at the last full moon. They know someone who got killed a few months ago, before you said you were bitten, and they were hoping… One of ‘em got scratched and we’re not sure if he’ll turn or not.” He wished he had more confidence on that subject, but this was the closest he’d ever come to a werewolf. There wasn’t enough solid information out there, probably because werewolves didn’t hunt down people to record it for them. Which made sense, but kind of sucked. “It wasn’t hard to make though. My sister’s good with fire. And I made some candles that repel werewolves, but I’m not sure that will help you. I need to think on that a bit.” As weird as it was, it was nice to have a focus other than those dreams.
Since there were monsters, Carson was sure there were people out there who hunted them. So it was a bit of a relief to hear that Nic’s friends weren’t those kinds of people. What he said about the other werewolf made Carson’s heart pound harder and a dozen more questions pop into his head -- did they succeed? Were scratches and bites the same? If they had caught a werewolf, was it the same one who bit Carson? Could Carson talk to him? Or her, he supposed, there was no need to be sexist about it -- there were so many things to ask, it all got jammed up in his throat. Carson tried to focus on his own immediate problem, nodding a bit at what Nic was saying. His sister knew and helped too, that was slightly reassuring. Carson didn’t know Zania well, just from around town, but the more people were involved, the less likely it was that he would get murdered. “There’s um ... Rylee found some kinda werewolf expert who’s in town right now,” he offered. “He was gonna help us ... maybe he can clear that up for your friend too.” Carson knew first-hand how agonizing the uncertainty was. “Did they catch the werewolf that scratched him? Can you put me in touch with them? We don’t have anywhere to put a cage, except maybe Adam’s uncle’s cabin again, but ... I dunno.”
“A werewolf expert?” Nic asked, brows raising. “That’s interesting. I’d love to pick his brain.” He just wanted to be careful not to give too much away in terms of his own situation— or really, Lem and Vex’s situation. So long as they were removed from the discussion, it hopefully wouldn’t lead back to them. He’d feel better once they no longer had a body in their basement for sure. “No, they didn’t catch him,” he sighed, not really wanting to go into details if he could avoid it. “Things… didn’t really go as planned.” He didn’t want to spook Carson by revealing they’d killed it, since they both knew it was a man, but when Lem had shot it it wasn’t. And Nic truly believed she’d made the right decision. He just didn’t want to see Carson in that place himself. “The cage we made was pretty big. And kind of a permanent structure. We can charm it to hide it, but I don’t know that we’d want to do that if the cabin isn’t even your friend’s. Maybe—If my friend’s not going to turn from a scratch, I’m sure they’d let you use the cage we built. If you wanted to.” And if not, they could brainstorm places to hide a cage.
Carson noticed that Nic didn’t say whether or not he could hook them up to talk, but he didn’t ask again. He was starting to learn how important discretion was, and maybe Nic’s friends didn’t want him talking about their business to anybody. He chewed on the corner of his bottom lip for a second while Nic kept talking, nodding slightly. A basement seemed the perfect place for a cage, but he and rylee lived in apartment, and he didn’t know of anybody else’s basement he could borrow. Maybe Nic’s friends could build another one, if their place was big enough. Fuck, build several. Have a damn werewolf hotel. The idea would’ve made him laugh, if it wasn’t so real and terrifying at the moment. “Maybe ... maybe we can all arrange a meeting or something,” he suggested. “Rylee can bring her expert, maybe he can tell you friend if a scratch would infect him or not. And if so, maybe he can give both of us some advice, y’know?”
Nic nodded a little, biting his lip, but he was hesitant to bring in someone he didn’t trust. He’d known Rylee forever, since high school. She knew the worst of him, secrets he’d only breathed to a handful of people. Carson he trusted for a number of reasons: he was Rylee’s cousin, he was sharing a fucking dream with him, and he was willing to trust him with the knowledge that he was a werewolf. Lem and Vex were their own special cases. But this werewolf expert… he hadn’t been vetted. “I’m not… I’m not worried about you meeting my friends,” he said, working through his thoughts as he spoke. “I’m sure they’d love to talk to you. But they’re… different. Not like me, or you. Just… Have you met this werewolf guy? Do you have any idea where he’s getting his information from? I guess I’m… I’m weary. I don’t normally tell people what I am. But with these dreams, it seemed stupid to try and hide it.”
He shook his head to answer the basic question. “I haven't met him yet. But I was gonna, soon. Rylee said he was going to help us find a cage and tranquilizers that would actually work,” he said. “He told her a bunch of stuff, she seemed to think he was pretty credible, but I’m gonna see what he says myself. Adam has talked to him too -- the friend with the cabin. And I mean, he doesn’t need to know anything about you or how we know each other, just about your friend’s maybe-problem.” He paused, then shrugged a little sheepishly. “I mean, not to push or anything. I just want some facts, you know? A plan, like you said. But hey, if I go see him and then I disappear, you’ll know I got hunted or some shit.” He offered a lopsided smile. Gallows humor was better than some other coping mechanisms.
“I don’t think you’re pushing,” Nic smiled. “I’m just trying to protect my friends. But if you and Rylee and your friend Adam think this guy’s legit, I’d love to talk to him. This kind of information is hard to come by. I’m tempted to ask you a hundred different questions, but I’m holding back,” he grinned. He knew Carson needed help, but there was some novelty in knowing he was speaking to a real werewolf. One that was trying to take precautions so that he would live a normal life. If Carson would let him, he could learn a lot from him, information that was truly valuable in his circle. “But if you disappear though? The cavalry's coming for you, man. We don’t need a hunter in town.” They’d start with the werewolves, but eventually come for the witches. They always did.
Carson chuckled, feeling oddly touched about the cavalry comment. He knew that Rylee would kill herself trying to find him if he ever did disappear, and it was nice to know she wouldn’t be alone in that. The wonder crossed his mind again of whether or not she and Nic had ever slept together, but he tried to push it aside. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like Carson could have her like he wanted to anyway. “Thanks. I’ll see how I feel about him, then either tell him about another possible werewolf around, or not, y’know?” he offered. If Nic trusted his judgement with the others’, maybe they could make something happen. “I’m open to questions, I just ... dunno if I’ll have a lot to tell you. I don’t remember anything about being changed. I dunno if it was the tranqs or like that all the time, but I just passed out in the cabin and then woke up at dawn, naked in the woods, puking up ... stuff.” Carson’s nose wrinkled with distaste.
“But that’s something isn’t it?” Nic said, thinking that the stuff Carson had been puking up was likely things the human stomach wasn’t happy with digesting— small animals, or even human flesh. He imagined it was disgusting, but there was still something fascinating about it. “I wonder if you’ll always pass out or if you’d remember it starting other times. Do you feel any different now? You see all these movies where you’d have enhanced senses or healing abilities, but I wasn’t sure if any of that was true.” He knew some things weren’t, that they were just created by the entertainment industry, but they were rooted in a legend that people no longer believed. That meant there could always be a sliver of truth to it all.
It was a traumatic ‘something’ that he didn’t much want to think about, especially considering a woman in town lost her life. Not that the rest of it was any picnic to think about, but pondering whether he would stay conscious next time gave his mind something else to chew on. “No, all of that seems the same,” he said, shaking his head a little bit. “The scratches from that night are still healing, nothing seems enhanced ... if anything, I feel shittier.” He gave a little huff and a half-smile, then shrugged a bit. That was probably the lingering effects of the shock and the physical exhaustion of it all. Carson wondered vaguely if that would be true every time too, if he could just count on feeling like shit half of every month for the rest of his life.
“The scratches are still healing?” Nic asked. “Do you want something for that?” It was the kind of thing that Nic realized he took for granted, that the only things he couldn’t heal were wounds of a magical nature. At least if they were small. He’d had to stitch himself up before and that was never fun. Nic had noticed, like probably everyone else had, that Carson looked like shit when he came in, but now he had a better appreciation for why. “If your body’s still recovering, there’s some tea we make— not, like, normal tea,” he said, gesturing around the room, “that might help you. If you’re interested. You don’t have an aversion to anise, do you?” Even if he did, Nic would say he’d be best to just hold his nose and drink it. It would be worth it.
Carson’s eyebrows quirked upward, then he gave another faint chuckle. “I don’t even know what that is,” he admitted, hunching his shoulders a bit. “But I mean, if anything would help, I’d appreciate it.” He definitely wanted a plan in place that would have him waking up somewhere safe and heated, and not naked in the middle of the fucking woods. The weather on the next full moon was going to be even worse, that was a fact. Carson had been damn lucky that he’d ended up so close to a road and Adam was out looking for him -- he wasn’t going to bet on a repeat of that. “Is that, uh ... part of what you do? Like ... potions?” He wasn’t sure how to phrase it, but he was fairly curious about Nic’s special talents too.
“Anise kind of tastes like black licorice,” Nic smiled, moving to pick a few different jars off the shelves. “The tea kind of tastes like that, but it’s worth it, even if you hate it.” He returned to set them on the counter, then reached below it to pull out an empty bowl. As he set the bowl on the counter, it began to fill halfway with water, the only possible source being the tips of his fingers on the rim. “It depends. I do a lot of things. But yeah, that’s one of ‘em. We don’t usually sell ‘em. We cater more to other witches than the public, mostly because there’s a cost to serious magic that not everyone understands. The world wants balance and we don’t always get to pick the cost. But there’s not as much risk to potions, especially the healing sort.” He worked as he spoke, mixing up a kind of paste in the bowl, all of the ingredients looking earthy, like a mud mask. Once he was done, he paused for a few seconds, reciting the spell in his head, calling upon the elements and activating the mixture. Then he placed the bowl in his palm and began to heat it up, steam eventually rising from the surface. “You’ll want to put this on your cuts,” he said, spooning it into a jar that Carson could take with him. “Leave it on for an hour, then you can wash it off. Whatever you don’t use, save for next time. It’s good for anything that’s not too deep. It usually only takes one application, but if you need stitches, do that first, then use it once a day till it’s healed.”
Nic had a captivated audience through the whole process, Carson watching the bowl fill with water and then start to heat up just from Nic’s hands with absolute fascination. Maybe he should’ve been ho-hum about it considering everything else going on in his life, but this was one thing that didn’t seem terrifying and dangerous, just cool. It all smelled so interesting, too. He was so busy staring that he almost didn’t hear how long to leave it on his cuts. Carson blinked and mentally caught up to Nic’s words, then nodded. “Okay ... wow, thanks,” he said, giving a little huff and a lopsided smile. It was the first supernatural thing he’d encountered so far that he actually felt good about, casual as it was for Nic to do. “That’s pretty fuckin’ amazing. How’d you like, learn all this?”
What he was doing felt so basic, but Nic knew that the big magic, the kind he found impressive, was the sort that made people fear witches. People tended to freak out when they realized how easily he could turn them into a human ice cube, so he resisted the urge to put on a show, sure that if Carson hung around he’d eventually see more. “It’s a family thing,” Nic said as he filled a little bag with the healing tea. “Some of it’s trial and error, some of it’s practice. A lot of it’s passed down knowledge. It’s hard to create a spell from scratch, but if you’ve got something to start with, you kind of start to see the patterns. And some of it comes naturally, like the water.” The water was sometimes the hardest to explain, since it was so visibly real magic. The rest felt like some kind of voodoo, all show and ritual until people realized it worked. But when water appeared out of nowhere, it was hard to doubt that. Nic offered him a bag of tea, the one that tasted like licorice and wasn’t sold to customers. “For your health,” he said with a little smile. “There’s no reason to spend the rest of the month feeling like shit. This should speed things along.”
Carson took the bag and the jar of healing paste, giving Nic a lopsided little smile. “Thanks, man,” he said with sincerity. This was one thing at least that he was sure Rylee wouldn’t feel freaked out about. She knew and trusted Nic. And it was just tea and like ... magical neosporin, right? No big deal. He already kind of wished that this thing that now set him apart was more useful and positive like Nic’s magic seemed to be -- something he could study and practice and make his own in order to help people. Instead of a curse that only served to make him dangerous. He tucked the gifts into his hoodie pocket and hunched his shoulders again. “I really, uh ... appreciate your help with everything,” he added, feeling compelled to thank Nic for the bigger picture of not shunning him. “All this is ... a lot, you know? And it’s hard to know who I can trust with it.”
“I know,” Nic nodded. “It’s smart to be cautious. And if you didn’t know it even existed before, it could be especially overwhelming.” It was the kind of thing that was hard to break to someone if they didn’t come specifically asking for it. And it could be dangerous, considering your ties to it. People hunted werewolves, but witches didn’t have the best track record either, especially in Point Pleasant. “Is Rylee taking it okay?” he asked. “I know she never really believe in this kind of thing.” Which was almost amusing, considering her ties to it, but if she hadn’t figured out her half brother was a witch, then Nic wasn’t going to break it to her.
“I didn’t know shit about fuck before,” Carson admitted ruefully. He didn’t know if he would’ve been able to keep himself safe if he had, but he at least would’ve been a little bit prepared. His wouldn’t have had his world rocked quite so hard. “She’s just ... really worried and trying not to show it to me too much. If you know her at all, you know how she is.” He gave a little smile that was sad and affectionate at the same time. “She’s all gung ho about helping though, so I’m glad for that. I think between all of us we can ... do better next month. And hopefully, this’ll help with our other fuckin’ situation.” Carson made a vague gesture toward the door, meaning this little meeting they’d had with Jane. He hoped it helped. He really needed it to help, so he felt things weren’t quite so out of control.
“I know she wants to help,” Nic said. “And there’s probably some things she can do with the werewolf thing, even if it’s mostly support before and after. The best plan for while you’re actually a werewolf is probably for her to stay away from your cage and wait it out. I’m gonna see if I can find something that might help calm you? Cause I’d imagine you won’t like being caged.” If they could make a werewolf deterrent, they had to be able to make something to calm them down. Not tame them, but just… keep them from raging all night. “I wish there was something someone could do about this other shit. I think Jane’s our best best. I hate feeling this useless, but I don’t even know what we’re up against.”
Carson agreed that Rylee should stay as far away from him as possible when he was a giant monster, but he wasn’t sure how easy it would be to convince her of that. Hopefully she would listen to the rest of these people better than she listened to him. He nodded a bit at the rest of it, feeling some more of that dumb gratitude for all this help he was getting. “That might really help, yeah. And Rylee’s expert’s gonna look for tranquilizers too. If I can just ... be unconscious the whole time, I feel like that’d be best for everybody.” Carson just wanted to go to sleep somewhere safe and wake up an instant later knowing he didn’t eat anyone, just like a normal night. “But yeah, I hope she can help us. And I know dude, but ... you can’t know what you don’t know, y’know? Don’t sweat it. None of us know anything helpful, it’s not just you.”
Nic’s concern when it came to tranquilizers was how could they possibly know what the right amount was? What might knock out the werewolf might kill the man. At what point did Carson’s body handle the tranquilizers differently? What if they were still in his system when he shifted back? Nic hoped he could offer some alternatives, especially since they had a good amount of time till the next full moon. “I know. It’s just… I feel like this is the kind of thing I should be able to handle. Or at least have a clue about.” He would’ve reached out to more other witches, but he didn’t even know what they were dealing with, which made it hard. All he had were a handful of dreams. “I hate to say this but, I’m glad I’m not alone in this.”
Carson nodded. He understood at least something of the frustration of not having a clue about the things you felt you should know about. This whole issue -- both of them, really -- had blindsided him and thrown him headlong into a world he had no way of navigating. “Yeah, I get that,” he told Nic with a small smile. “Me too, honestly. I mean, it sucks that it’s happening, but ... you guys are the only way I knew I wasn’t losing my fucking mind. Again.” He gave an unamused chuckle and shook his head, running a hand through his messy hair before he tucked it into his front pocket again. “We’ll get through it somehow, though,” he offered, not wanting to end on a sour note or anything. They at least had a direction now, that was something. Carson ambled backward a few steps. “I’ll uh, guess I’ll talk to you later, man. Thanks again for everything.”
“Right? I thought that too when this all started and I knew things,” Nic said with a little laugh. The mirror part still perplexed him. He’d never seen or heard of a creature or being that could manipulate both a reflection and someone’s dreams. He’d have found it much more interesting if it wasn’t tormenting him. “Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” he nodded in agreement, then gave Carson a smile. “Take care of yourself. And let me know if you need anything else.” After feeling so useless, it felt good to be able to help someone.
They didn’t have much of a choice except to believe they would figure it out, Carson supposed. It was that or give up, and that wasn’t really an option when the whatever-it-was kept invading their sleep. So they would keep trying to figure it out until something changed. Or they were all run mad, whichever one comes first. He nodded to what Nic said and gave him a little wave. “You too man, take care,” he said. “And thanks again.” He tilted Nic a tiny smile, then turned to head out of the shop. Rylee would want to know how all this went, and he was ready to be back at home, hermiting again.