What a ghoul’s gotta do. (Wren/Edge)

[NightshadeVII]

There was a brief moment, as Wren lifted a monsterous, clawed hand above their head as if to strike, where Edge’s heartbeat picked up. Sure, he could defend himself to a degree, but whatever wren had transformed into was bigger, and no doubt stronger than he could ever hope to be. Hopefully, his usual approach would work well enough.

After that short, flashfire fear, Edge sighed softly when the ghoul unceremoniously accepted the waterbottle and drank. Seeing how comically small it was in wren’s now large hand, the Darai wondered if perhaps he should have brought a second bottle. But then again, water might not help at all, he had no idea what kind of creature he was dealing with after all.
Grief, however, he knew like a close friend, recognized how it radiated from Wren’s slumped, shaking form.

“It’s the least I can do. Anything else you need?”, Edge asked, keeping his tone soft, “or is there someone I should call for you?”

[indeath]

Wren shuddered their now large form curling in on itself. Edge meant well but his question just reminded them how alone they really were. Bubbles wasn’t up to dealing with this and Hank didn’t need the burden. There was no one to call.

“N..no. No one… I sssshould just go sssomewhere lessss peopley… ughh ssssorry.. You.. can come.. “

Traveling across town like this was not ideal, there was too much emotion going on to turn back. Wren looked around wearily, they were alone at least for now.

“Aiko. she was good.. Not like the resst. Told me we could be better. Didn’t have to be a monster. My sisster. Sshe took care of me. Then she wass gone. Ssshe’d losst control. I didn’t want to let her down. I even tried magic once to become human… obviousssly I failed.”

Wren was babbling to a stranger. At least they weren’t eating him or something. Small victories.

[NightshadeVII]

“Ah, I see. I’m sorry about that”, he bit his lip, thinking for a moment, “well, in that case, let’s get you somewhere less ‘peopley’”

The city was a constant dance of deep shadows and street lights at this time of the night, casting everything into an almost dreamlike state and making it easy to ignore strange silhouettes in the visual noise. There were so many of them after all. There was a pleasant chill in the air, not enough to be truly cold, but enough to calm and soothe. Honestly, a good night for a walk, if only it had been under better circumstances.
For a moment, Edge considered suggesting that they go to a small cafe he knew, known for it’s odd hours and ridiculously delicious yet unconventional pastries, but at this hour, there would probably too many customers.

The Darai listened quietly to Wren, not at all put off by the rambling. He had been in stranger situations, come to think of it.

“Your sister sounds wonderful, both in her view on things and what she did for you”, Edge smiled softly at Wren then, the ghoul’s grief mirrored in amethyst eyes, “I’m sure she’s proud of you, for making it this far, remembering what she taught you, trying your best.”
Mourning was a strange thing, different for everyone, and sometimes feeling like it would never pass. Like a scar that never stopped being tender.

“What did you two like to do together?”, the Darai asked carefully, hoping that directing thoughts towards happy memories would help, even if only a little.

[indeath]

Wren felt the last of their rage fizzle like the air from a balloon. Just sad and incredibly embarrassed. Edge definitely wasn’t their guy. They just hoped they wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. They lumbered after Edge, looking around for any sign of people. They led Edge to a deserted alley. Fairly confident if anything bad came around it probably wasn’t as bad as Wren.

“Well, we’d go to drag shows and she’d let me borrow her clothes. She was really supportive of me being who I am. We used to do DnD games together but we made stuff up, made it our own. Something we’d make pretend to be a normal family heh. Thanks by the way… I’m really sorry about all that. If I can make it up to you… Don’t worry I’m not gonna try to eat you or anything. I should be back to my smaller self in a little bit…”

Wren leaned against the cold brick wall trying to center themselves. At least almost no one could hurt them in this form.

[NightshadeVII]

The sights and sounds of the city dulled slightly as the two headed down a secluded alleyway, hopefully providing enough peace for wren to come down entirely.
Edge leaned against the alley wall, tapping fingers rhythmically against his thigh as he listened to the other talk. Perhaps it was his experiences in his homeworld that made themselves known, but a lot of the things wren mentioned, he had never heard of. He couldn’t help but wonder what DND was.

“Your sister sounds lovely. It’s important to have those kinds of people in your life, who nurture your interests”, he mused, a wistful echo in his voice as his thoughts wandered for just a moment. He hoped that everyone back home knew he wasn’t dead.

The Darai chuckled warmly when Wren apologized, waving a hand to show it was no big deal.
“Hey, it’s okay, neither of us got harmed”, he said, voice still warm from the laugh, “and honestly, it’s not the first time I’ve been in a situation like this, so no worries, you’re dealing with a pro.”

Though he tried to lighten the mood- and Wren’s guilt, hopefully- the Darai also understood the need to apologize and make amends, the closure that came with that. Truly, he wasn’t mad at them and didn’t need any kind of compensation for the incident, but if it could help Wren, he would think of something.
“We can say you owe me a coffee or something, if you wanna make it up to me, that sound good?”

[indeath]

Wren could feel themselves coming down, feeling ‘human’ again. There was something soothing about this tall stranger. Definitely not something you got from a killer. Wren looked at him with warmth in their eyes.

“I can do that. Coffee it is.”

They blushed slightly, realized they were blushing and blushed even harder. Their companion was pretty easy on the eye. He smelt not exactly human but Wren didn’t want to pry. Not everyone transformed into a complete monster in front of strangers.

“Are you a therapist or something? A professional on loss and trauma huh? I’m sorry I ruined your night…”

Wren slowly shrunk back into the small person Edge had met earlier, skin returning back to its warm tone. The clothes were sadly stretched but it wasn’t something Wren hadn’t dealt with before. Bubbles would have words to say.

[NightshadeVII]

It was a relief seeing Wren slowly calm down, an until now unseen warmth coming into their eyes. There was a moment of silence as they mulled over his words, before nodding, agreeing to the proposition. Edge smiled, warm and open, a flash of sharp canines briefly visible. Maybe it was a trick of the city’s weird neon lights.
“It’s a deal”

It was obvious that wren was embarrassed, a steadily deepening blush dusting their cheeks, but honestly, the musician couldn’t fault them. They had been through the whole roster of unpleasant emotions in the span of less than an hour, who wouldn’t be overly self conscious after that?
“A therapist, huh?”, Edge chuckled, finding the notion sweet, but personally ironic, considering his history, “Nah, I guess I’m just experienced, unfortunately.”
Not to mention, this wasn’t the first time someone had tried to kill him based on a misunderstanding. Did he really have that kind of face?

“Honestly, I didn’t have any plans tonight”, Edge said, peeling the last bit of nail polish of his nails, “mostly just wandering and killing time, waiting for inspiration to strike. There’s always something to do in this town, isn’t there?”

When they finally took on a more human form, Edge breathed a sigh of relief. Though their stretched and torn clothes were a grim reminder of how much their body had changed, twice in one evening.
“You’re not hurt, are you?”, the Darai asked, looking them over for injuries, “That transformation looked pretty painful…”

[indeath]

Wren looked sadly at their tattered clothing, they had liked this outfit a lot. They smiled at Edge, of all the people to try to kill they had to pick the very nicest. Though it definitely wasn’t hurting.

“Oh I’m fine, honestly. It’s not too bad, just like a lot of pressure all at once. Experienced huh… I’m sorry that’s rough. Wath is definitely interesting but usually good interesting. Definitely met some interesting supers around here. You’re not a super are you?”

Edge seemed awfully cool about all this for a human but maybe he worked for WDSA too. Though Wren had never seen him but few traveled to the morgue if they could help it. They looked at their tattered clothes and hoped no one they knew saw them like this. It could pass as an extremely avant-garde punk they supposed.

“So uh could I grab your number for that coffee? Unless you want it now?”

[NightshadeVII]

It was a relief to hear that Wren wasn’t hurt, despite the drastic transformation. Though neither was hurt, the state of Wren’s carefully picked out outfit proved that the night had not been entirely victimless.

“Oh, uh, a super?”
While he wasn’t exactly hiding the fact anymore, it still felt awkward to be questioned about it. Old wounds and habits stirring in the back of his mind. Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yes, I am”, the Darai said, “it’s nothing special though.”
He used to think his eyes with their vibrant amethyst colour were a dead giveaway, but Wathais, with all its supers and splicers, made it a lot easier to play off some of his more unusual traits.

“Oh, I could go for a coffee now, if you’re good to go”, Edge said, “I know a place that keeps odd hours.”

[indeath]

Wren began trying to arrange their ruined outfit so it wasn’t so obvious. It was certainly a look and not quite what they had been going for. Wren glanced admiringly at Edge’s purple eyes then looked away shyly.

“I don’t think there’s such thing as an ordinary super. I’m sure you’re special… to someone…”

Real smooth. For all their advice to Hank, Wren really struggled in their own game. They smiled warmly at the tall guy.

“Yeah! Sounds good. Coffee is one of the few human things I can have. I guess coffee beans are technically dead… heh. Sorry.”

This was definitely an improvement on what had been a terrible experience. Maybe they’d even get a new friend out of it.

[NightshadeVII]

As Wren began trying to salvage their outfit, the Darai made an apologetic noise, embarrased by his own lack of awareness.
“I’m sorry, do you want to grab a change of clothes first?”

Regardless, now that they had calmed down, Wren proved to be kind, and much more shy than their colourful hair and stylish makeup would have anyone believe.
What they said, about him being special to someone struck a chord, just briefly. Most of the people he was special to were in another world, Edge couldn’t help but think, probably assuming he was dead. Of course, he had people he cared about deeply here as well- one blond particular stood out from the rest- but even after all these years, it was still a weird contrast he lived in.

At Wren’s attempt at a joke, to lighten the mood, Edge couldn’t help but quietly snort.
“Well, in that case, coffee it is”, the darai glanced around trying to get his bearings. By now, he had gotten quite comfortable with the city and had even figured out a few helpful shortcuts.

“It’s this way, not too far luckily”, Edge nodded down a smaller, warmly lit side-alley with a few stores and bars still open, filled with a slower, more easygoing kind of nightlife. Once he was sure Wren was ready, he started walking at a leisurely pace

[indeath]

Wren smiled at Edge’s suggestion but shook their head at him. It was passable, nobody would really notice. They could only imagine the fuss Bubbles would make. Far too much, they didn’t want to be embarrassed any further tonight. Bubbles would want to hear about it later anyway. Edge didn’t mention anyone special which gave Wren hope he might be single. Still they didn’t want to make things awkward between them.

Wren followed their new friend through the streets, looking forward to the warm smell of coffee.

“Do anything special for work? Obviously not a hunter… heh. I work at the morgue besides drag.”

[NightshadeVII]

As the two walked, the yelling and booming music of the clubbier streets slowly faded, while the gentle electric hum of streetlights became all the more noticeable. In one of the apartments above them, someone pulled their duvet inside, having aired it out during the day, while a healthy looking stray cat was settling inside a well-maintained nook in a side alley.

“Haha, no, not a hunter, thankfully. I work part-time in a rehab center by day”, Edge explained casually, then he grinned, “though I’m trying to cut down on my hours there these days. I’m a musician and songwriter by night”
The Darai was quite content with his situation. The job at the rehab center was important, and had given him something meaningful to do as he was getting settled in Wathais- he’d probably keep connections to the place if he could- but now, when he was slowly managing to establish himself as a musician, it was time to restructure things a bit.

“Morgue work, huh?”, Edge tilted his head, curious, “like forensics or?”

When they finally arrived at the cafe, they were greeted with quiet jazz and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. It was a small place bathed in warm light, with about half a dozen tables inside, each with its own potted plant. The walls were covered with maps and paintings and sun-catchers and no two chairs seemed to truly match. Behind the counter, various paper bags displayed the teas and coffees avalible, and a glass case showcased whatever pastries was still avalible.
At this time of day, the place was almost empty, save from two other customers and the barista, soft conversation and the quiet buzzing of espresso machines mixed with the music, providing a pleasant ambiance. Due to the odd hours of the place, and it’s location close to a venue where Edge frequently performed, it wouldn’t be inaccurate to call him a regular. By now, he knew the owner and most of the other workers.

“Well, here we are”, Edge made a sweeping gesture, as if presenting the place, before waving at the barista, “what are you in the mood for?”

[indeath]

“Rehab huh? Like for people who’ve had injuries or the addiction kind? Either way you must be a very kind person to work there.”

Wren sighed inwardly, this guy was too much. If they weren’t careful this crush could get out of hand. They could only assume he had some dark and tragic backstory. Or even worse he was tragically straight.

“Forensic mostly though occasionally I help make them up for funerals. I’m pretty handy with a brush. It’s also uh convenient with my dietary needs. Changing the subject… What’s your band called? We should do a swap, you come to a drag show and I’ll come see you play!”

Wren breathed in deep when they arrived, what a glorious smell. It was a charming cafe and Wren was already mentally adding it to their list. They wondered if Hank would like it here.

“It’s fantastic! I’ll have it black, no sugar or anything. As Bubbles says, kill my taste buds. She doesn’t have anything without at least a cup of sugar in it.”

They looked around a little nervously, hoping no one was paying too much attention to their outfit. It didn’t seem the judgey type of place at least.

[NightshadeVII]

“Black coffee, got it”, Edge nodded, “maybe you can find us a table while I order?”

With that, he headed to the counter, greeting the barista warmly and asking how their shift was going. The order was placed quickly; coffee for Wren and honey lemon tea for himself- at this time of day, there really was nothing better.

He returned after a little while, the cup of coffee in one hand and the tea in the other, and settled down at their table. Clubs and bars certainly had their appeal, and as a performer he spent his fair share of time at such places, but sometimes, a quiet cafe really was best.

“Oh yeah, to answer your question, it’s the addiction kind of rehab. I guess it’s just a job that makes sense to me, y’know?”, he shrugged, as if he’d never thought of his profession as anything extraordinary, “Kindness is a rarity for many of the people I work with there, so really it’s the least I can do for them.”

He took a sip of tea, taking a moment to appreciate the taste of the mild honey and fresh citrus. It was always a go-to drink for him after gigs, working wonders on a throat sung sore, but could definitely also be enjoyed regularly.

“Do you help solve crimes and such?”, the Darai asked, putting the mug down, “I gotta admit, I’ve never been much of a science person, it goes right over my head, but it sounds like a very interesting profession. Action-packed?”

What little he knew of this world’s medical sciences, he had learned from Faolan, but his boyfriend did work on living people as opposed to the dead so there was that. Not that he had understood much of the mediciner material back home either, but that was probably even harder to compare to forensics here.

“Awww you’re sweet, my band isn’t that well known so, you probably haven’t heard of us”, he laughed a little, suddenly feeling rather self-conscious. Even though he was used to the musician life, as his original band back home had gotten decently big in certain circles, he hated feeling like he was boasting.
“There’s a few places we perform at at regular basis though, like the bar we were just at, along with a handful of venues. So if you like punk, industrial rock and alt-metal, I can write the next few dates down for you.”
Then, on second thought, he added:
“Fair warning though, you’ll probably be swamped with eyeliner-related questions.”

The Darai shifted slightly in his seat, crossing his legs, the chains he wore attached to his belt sounding with the motion.
“How about you?”, he tilted his head in a questioning manner, “Do you perform at a certain place?”