[Week 17, Day 4, nearly sunset] Hungry for some unrest
Who: Elfangor, Matt, Mello, Jessica. Semi-open to Aximili, should he decide to pop in.
Status: Closed
Style: Prose
Where: Yomisato
When: Week 17, Day 4
Rating: PG-13? There's some limb loss in here.
Summary: Elfangor's on guard duty, which is actually necessary for once.
He hadn't been sleeping much, between the nightmares resurging in intensity, and the tiger attack the other day having him even more on edge. Perhaps smoking would have helped, but he needed this nervous energy, needed it to keep him alert, aware of his surroundings, attuned to every detail.
Matt and Mello were... out, somewhere. He hadn't seen Aximili recently. So it was just him and the dead girl in the house. And since it was daylight, still an hour or so until sunset, she couldn't look at him with her usual disapproval--not for his mere presence, or for being in his Andalite form in the house.
He tried not to think about it too much. Not that trying ever did much good. Oh, she may have implied that she was alright with this before, that night when she found him and Matt on the floor, but she'd never been pleased to have him around. And why should she be? Even though she herself was not quite human anymore, she was at least always a terrestrial being--someone like him, on the other hand, being strange, bizarre even. Unrelatable.
He'd seen enough movies in his time on Earth, seen how humans feared those from any planet other than their own, even when they weren't entirely certain they even existed; they were always the enemy. At least in the case of the Yeerks, they were right. But not everyone was like them, now were they? Granted, Andalites certainly had their flaws. All species, all individuals did. But that didn't have to make him out to be a threat. No, he was only a threat when he had good reason to be so.
And what reason did he have here, that Jessica ought to be concerned with? There was none. Oh, he could tell in the way she watched him, watched Matt, that she clearly thought he must have had some designs on monopolizing Matt's attention. But why would he, when she clearly made him happy as well? Wasn't that what was most important? Not some petty jealousy, some mistaken sense of rivalry. He didn't care about that.
But then he froze, thoughts arrested as well, all of his attention straining on that sound--the sound of scuffling just outside, a pair of voices low, muttering. He backed down the hallway, tail flicking, muscles twitching. Oh, he could go out there and investigate, but he wanted a fight. Wanted to work off some of this nervous energy. But more importantly, he wanted to know what these intruders were up to.
And apparently one of them was a lockpicker. The door clicked, creaking open, two men warily stepping inside. One armed with a dagger, the other... with something that looked like a piece of wood?
A wooden stake.
His blood boiled.
Perhaps Jessica did not particularly like him, but she was still important to Matt, and that made her important to Elfangor by proxy. And for someone to break into their house with the clear intent of destroying her? Oh, were they ever in for a terrible surprise.
Their voices were pitched low, but he could still hear their argument. One of them, the one with the stake, he sounded agitated, said they should just kill the bitch and get out of there, but the other shook his head, said they needed to drain her dry first, cash in on this opportunity.
He'd heard all he needed to hear.
Before either of them could even cry out in surprise, he sprang into the room, thwack!--and the man holding the dagger was no longer in possession of that arm. He started screaming, a terrible, animal-like sound, and tore out the door, leaving his co-conspirator behind, clutching at his bloodied stump.
That was just fine by Elfangor. He turned on the remaining man, his tail blade an inch from his throat. < Who the fuck are you? Why have you come here? >
The man just gaped at Elfangor, likely frozen in terror.
< Answer me! >
But there was no answer forthcoming, so with a disgusted snort, he torfed the man and watched him slump to the floor. That should keep him out for a while.
In a matter of minutes, he had the man bound and gagged in the far corner of the room, just in case he should awaken sooner than expected. Meanwhile, he'd morphed human to try and clean up the blood as best he could. Didn't know what exactly to do with the arm, but figured Jessica might be able to use it for a... snack, or whatever. So he grabbed one of his rarely used belts and set a tourniquet at the stump--scratched his own arm with the buckle, but didn't notice, too focused on his project of temporarily preserving the arm. He swiped at his face, unaware of spreading the blood from his arm there.
The only thing prominently on his mind was that the sun was finally setting, and perhaps Jessica would be able to get some answers out of this bastard.
Status: Closed
Style: Prose
Where: Yomisato
When: Week 17, Day 4
Rating: PG-13? There's some limb loss in here.
Summary: Elfangor's on guard duty, which is actually necessary for once.
He hadn't been sleeping much, between the nightmares resurging in intensity, and the tiger attack the other day having him even more on edge. Perhaps smoking would have helped, but he needed this nervous energy, needed it to keep him alert, aware of his surroundings, attuned to every detail.
Matt and Mello were... out, somewhere. He hadn't seen Aximili recently. So it was just him and the dead girl in the house. And since it was daylight, still an hour or so until sunset, she couldn't look at him with her usual disapproval--not for his mere presence, or for being in his Andalite form in the house.
He tried not to think about it too much. Not that trying ever did much good. Oh, she may have implied that she was alright with this before, that night when she found him and Matt on the floor, but she'd never been pleased to have him around. And why should she be? Even though she herself was not quite human anymore, she was at least always a terrestrial being--someone like him, on the other hand, being strange, bizarre even. Unrelatable.
He'd seen enough movies in his time on Earth, seen how humans feared those from any planet other than their own, even when they weren't entirely certain they even existed; they were always the enemy. At least in the case of the Yeerks, they were right. But not everyone was like them, now were they? Granted, Andalites certainly had their flaws. All species, all individuals did. But that didn't have to make him out to be a threat. No, he was only a threat when he had good reason to be so.
And what reason did he have here, that Jessica ought to be concerned with? There was none. Oh, he could tell in the way she watched him, watched Matt, that she clearly thought he must have had some designs on monopolizing Matt's attention. But why would he, when she clearly made him happy as well? Wasn't that what was most important? Not some petty jealousy, some mistaken sense of rivalry. He didn't care about that.
But then he froze, thoughts arrested as well, all of his attention straining on that sound--the sound of scuffling just outside, a pair of voices low, muttering. He backed down the hallway, tail flicking, muscles twitching. Oh, he could go out there and investigate, but he wanted a fight. Wanted to work off some of this nervous energy. But more importantly, he wanted to know what these intruders were up to.
And apparently one of them was a lockpicker. The door clicked, creaking open, two men warily stepping inside. One armed with a dagger, the other... with something that looked like a piece of wood?
A wooden stake.
His blood boiled.
Perhaps Jessica did not particularly like him, but she was still important to Matt, and that made her important to Elfangor by proxy. And for someone to break into their house with the clear intent of destroying her? Oh, were they ever in for a terrible surprise.
Their voices were pitched low, but he could still hear their argument. One of them, the one with the stake, he sounded agitated, said they should just kill the bitch and get out of there, but the other shook his head, said they needed to drain her dry first, cash in on this opportunity.
He'd heard all he needed to hear.
Before either of them could even cry out in surprise, he sprang into the room, thwack!--and the man holding the dagger was no longer in possession of that arm. He started screaming, a terrible, animal-like sound, and tore out the door, leaving his co-conspirator behind, clutching at his bloodied stump.
That was just fine by Elfangor. He turned on the remaining man, his tail blade an inch from his throat. < Who the fuck are you? Why have you come here? >
The man just gaped at Elfangor, likely frozen in terror.
< Answer me! >
But there was no answer forthcoming, so with a disgusted snort, he torfed the man and watched him slump to the floor. That should keep him out for a while.
In a matter of minutes, he had the man bound and gagged in the far corner of the room, just in case he should awaken sooner than expected. Meanwhile, he'd morphed human to try and clean up the blood as best he could. Didn't know what exactly to do with the arm, but figured Jessica might be able to use it for a... snack, or whatever. So he grabbed one of his rarely used belts and set a tourniquet at the stump--scratched his own arm with the buckle, but didn't notice, too focused on his project of temporarily preserving the arm. He swiped at his face, unaware of spreading the blood from his arm there.
The only thing prominently on his mind was that the sun was finally setting, and perhaps Jessica would be able to get some answers out of this bastard.