You are becoming a snake tomorrow, and as you start to devour people with that mouth that has devoured others you cry your love to me and the same as today, I do wonder will I be able to say my love to you?
That makes sense, with you building instruments and all. Do you know anything about [...] batteries? How they work, specifically, and how to build one?
Yeah, a bit. My dad has a remodeling business, so I he taught me some shit. I could probably figure something out once I got a look at everything you got and what exactly you need.
This is [...] probably a long-shot but does anyone know anything about [User has to go back to google momentarily.] electrochemistry? I've been trying to get into new and different formats for my art and I think building machines [...] with batteries would be interesting to tackle.
[PM] I'm always ready for any kind of dinner. [...] Actually a massage sounds nice. I've been hunched over books and my tablet a lot lately. My neck is all fucked.
I really don't think your fiancee would appreciate [...] Nah, that's all right. My friend's place is great. He has a pool house, so it's pretty private. I just don't wanna push my luck and start inviting people he doesn't know around. He has a kid and
[pm] How come? You should get one of those shoulder things that lets you clip everything up for you while you lay back. I gotcha you though.
Okay that actually sounds kinda perfect. Aside from, you know, having your own place. Well, if you ever want me over, I'll introduce myself as your sexy, criminal knight.
If you're trying to rile me up on purpose, you're going to have to try a lot fucking harder. Had to deal with people that are much more annoying than you are. Actually got more applicants than I know what to do with but thanks for your fucking enlightened opinion. And you'd be lucky to ever get to enjoy how easy I am.
So apparently The Black Lagoon has a limit on how much coffee they can legally give you in good conscience. Which is less than what I currently need. And what's worse is there's some sort of caffeine conspiracy between the local baristas. I've been blacklisted for having too much caffeine this week.
This is a really long way of begging for someone to release me from this interminable decaffeinated hell.
TIMING: Early February
LOCATION: Isidore's Studio (and his dreams)
PARTIES: Isidore & Mateo (@fearhims3lf)
SUMMARY: Mateo has himself a meal on Isidore's nightmares.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Body Horror, Parental Death TW
Something about being a newly engaged man made everything look so new. Lights shined brighter, colors were more saturated, and nightmares just tasted that much better. Mateo was on cloud nine, essentially. So he took his usual nightly stroll, enjoying a little perusing while Xóchitl was happily asleep in his bed. He could venture into the astral and hop around that way, but fresh air was a little too enticing while he scanned the menu.
As was a shiny little art studio across the street.
“Hello…” Mateo smirked, surveying the building. One window was dimly lit, but he could see a few picture frames and the top edge of a couch. It looked too homey to be an office, which led Mateo to believe the units above the business were apartments. “Perfect.” He whispered to himself, disappearing in an instant to investigate further in the astral.
When he found where someone was sleeping, he reappeared, surrounded by a far too neutral dream. “That won't do.” Mateo chuckled, shrouding the space in darkness while he pulled a few strings of information. He found a name, collecting a cacophony of voices to whisper, “Isidore,” harshly.
__
Isidore didn’t dream. Not usually. He hadn’t for a very long time. When he did dream, however, they were vivid and technicolor nightmares. Enough to cause him to bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat as he struggled to catch his breath. They usually came out of nowhere, giving no warning to their likelihood. They just were; a symptom of holding onto trauma with a tight-fisted grip.
Tonight, it turned out, was one of those nights. The dream he was having was mundane. He was shopping at the local art store, snails hot on his trail as they whispered random nonsense to him. Something that could have easily happened to him in the waking world, so it had little effect on him now.
Then, the lights went out. From the darkness came a swirl of voices that whispered his name. Isidore shuddered, looking around for its source, but there were too many voices to pinpoint its origin. “Who’s there?” He called out, worry etching into his voice as he had yet to realize that his dream was morphing into one of those sweat-inducing nightmares.
__
Mateo smiled, head tilting with curiosity. He dug a little deeper, finding a few colorful images he put in his back pocket for later. Not all nightmares needed to be rooted in memories. Sometimes, they were just the cherries on top, the final dash of flavor that perfect the dish.
As the mare did his work, Isidore was trying to do the same, to inspect his own mind in hope for comfort. Mateo put a stop to that quickly, taking away Isidore's voice and vacuuming the rest of the noise around him. To add insult to injury, the more he moved, the slower he became, restarting at the beginning over and over again.
“Izzy!” A voice–a familiar one hissed behind him, but turning around would lead nowhere except into a waterfall of blood. With just a jump and blink, the red snapped into a rather mundane wall. For the moment, Mateo left it at that, waiting to see what Isidore would do next.
__
The more time went on for the muse, the more frustrated he became instead of fearful. Isidore could make no sound, could hear nothing, and could barely move. The more he trudged along, the harder it became. He was growing infuriated by it. Then, a voice cut through the suffocating silence; familiar, yet he couldn’t quite place it.
He opened his mouth to respond, only to be met with that same vacuuming silence. His frustration grew, hands balling into fists by his sides as he turned around to be met with the elevator from The Shining’s amount of blood. He stepped back in response, trying to avoid its deluge, only for him to blink and for it to be gone.
Izzy frowned, looking around for a moment before letting out a silent sigh of frustration. This was worse than a nightmare; at least in a nightmare, there was some semblance of understanding of how he got there. This, to him at least, was just utter nonsense. He detested unorganized chaos. It’s why he struggled with other fae so much.
__
Isidore wasn't very scared, much to the mare's chagrin. There was barely a hint of a snack filling his stomach and while he wanted to be stubborn and continue with his method, he knew he had to change his structure. Most times being yanked around and thrown into horrifying themes was enough, but it seemed Mateo's imagination was lacking. Fine. He could take critique.
When Isidore turned around again, he was met with another wall, leaving him closed in on either side of him. The hallway it created went dim, and Mateo made his entrance. His Kubrick stare glowed red and a snap echoed all the way down to Isidore, several others following after as Mateo transformed into the man his victim knew as Vaughn.
“They should know, shouldn't they?” It was the warden's voice. As he spoke, the area around Isidore's Aos Sí (whatever that was) began to form. “Right, Maestro?” Vaughn melted into Isidore's mother, bloodied and haggard. “What did you do?”
__
Isidore wasn’t scared when faced with a blood wall, but he was downright terrified when a stranger suddenly appeared before him. And when that stranger morphed into Vaughn, He could feel his blood turn to ice as he tried to backpedal away from him. “No,” he spoke quietly, reaching for the switchblade that Vaughn had given him all those years ago when he’d taught him to fight.
Blade aimed at Vaughn, it all but clattered to the ground as the figure turned into his own mother, bloodied and asking what he’d done, calling him by his title. Suddenly, he was a little boy again, staring up at his mother for validation, and instead being met with her bleeding and broken body. “Mama,” Isidore spoke quietly as he sank to his knees, reaching out with a shaky hand to touch her face. “I… I’m going to make it up to you,” he swore to her as tears welled up in his eyes.
The day his people died, the day his parents died, the day his friends died. They all weighed on Isidore’s shoulders like cinderblocks, keeping him down when he tried so desperately to pull himself up again. These nightmares plagued him, even after fifty years. This one, however, this one was worse than they’d been in quite some time. This felt real. And he wanted desperately to wake up from it, but had no hope of escape. He couldn’t wake up.
It was as if his psyche demanded Isidore face the wrongs he committed, forcing him to relive his worst moments. “Stop,” he hissed as he clasped his hands over his ears. “Stop it!” His voice rang loudly this time, tears falling as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t face this, not even in his dreams.
__
Memories and trauma were a bit of a copout, but damn, did they always fucking work. Isidore was finally scared and even begged for it to stop. Mateo could feel the meal coming together, could feel the way Isidore's body began to fuss right outside the astral. He needed more, though. Which meant he had to adjust.
As much as he didn’t want to, Mateo backed off slightly, letting the tension start building again. In the shape of Isidore's mother, the mare shoved the man back, her body harshly flying into a backbend. She contorted every which way, each limb snapping with monstrous force. They looked wrong. Her entire body did, fully bending until her head went past her knees.
“It hurts…it hurts.” She wheezed hoarsely, broken hand reaching for the knife Isidore had dropped. “Why did you point this at me? Why? Why? Why?” Mateo chanted in the woman's voice, adding a distorted layer to it with every repetition. Then, the chorus was met with the other voices in Isidore's memories. Those killed by his mistake. Slowly, the dead disjointedly crawl towards Mateo's borrowed shape, melting into him to become one giant, bloody amalgamation.
“Why?! Why?! Why?!”
__
Isidore clamped his hands over his ears as he fell into a crouch, letting out a scream as he tried to get it to stop. He knew he was the villain, he knew he was responsible for the deaths of so many innocents. And now he was haunted by them. Now, they never let him know peace. The nightmares were frequent, but this one felt especially terrible.
There was a part of him that knew that he needed to wake up, but he just couldn’t seem to rouse. It felt wrong, and that only managed to make his panic all the worse as he kept his hands clasped over his ears, daring to look up to see the horrific, contorted figure of the woman crawling forward.
For all the put together ruler he portrayed himself as to his people he acted as, he truly was nothing but a product of his actions. Fear and regret marred his every feature, reduced to nothing but a blubbering mess on the ground. “Please, I’m sorry.” He said quietly, rolled up into the fetal position. “I’m trying to make it right, but I can’t… do that if you keep haunting me.” His voice was broken, coming out as terrified whispers as he kept his eyes trained on the ground.
__
It was cute how Isidore became undone. Like a pathetic puppy trying to make sense of a new environment it couldn't wrap its head around. Mateo smirked, the curve of his lips indiscernible under the thick coat of blood he was wearing.
Not that Isidore could have seen it even if that wasn't the case. He was unable to tear himself away from his pity party as the chant continued from the screaming faces stretching the skin across his torso. Why?! Why?! Why…?! Mateo let them continue while he shoved Isidore onto his back and freefell into him.
The two of them burst through the ground and onto the bed Isidore was sleeping in, and no doubt thrashing in deliciously. The choir seethed. “You can't?” Mateo headbutted Isidore, and they split the frame to give way onto the floor of the fae's childhood home. “Or you won't?”
For his final attack, Mateo slammed his bloody globs for arms and hands into Isidore's chest, tearing them through the floorboards. But when the dreamer's back crashed into its next environment, he was alone. Covered in blood and alone, laying amongst the bodies of those he inadvertently killed. His heart was racing and Mateo salivated with delight. A full belly was reward enough, but the sobs were like a cherry on top. Just in time, too. Mateo could feel Isidore breaking open the exit to his nightmare.
__
Being reminded of the wrongs he’d committed by staying silent was something that often haunted Isidore. Mostly he was awake when it happened, but it wasn’t completely unheard of him to wake up screaming from some kind of horrific nightmare. Every time it happened, he told himself that it was what he deserved. Even still, the imagery used in this dream was nothing short of traumatizing. He let himself be assaulted and thrown around, and then he was alone, surrounded by everyone he loved. Everyone who had trusted him.
Desperate to escape, Isidore finally bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath and whirling his head around to try and figure out where he was. He was still at the studio. He wasn’t surrounded by the bodies of the people he’d wronged. A flew a hand to his chest, trying to steady himself and remind himself that it was just a dream, nothing more. “What the fuck was that,” he mumured to himself as he stared at a spot on his blanket, too afraid to look around further.
Sucking in another breath, Isidore ran a hand through his hair, which was knotted and tangled from his restless thrashing as he slept. Well, so much for a full night’s rest. That was well enough, he supposed. That’s usually how he spent his nights when he was alone anyhow. Time for a cup of coffee.
Timing: Late Saturday Night/Early Sunday Morning
Location: Flipped
Characters: Mateo @fearhims3lf & Viv @vivlennox
Summary: One of Viv's frequent flier customers stops in for a midnight snack. She gets to have a snack too!
Content warnings: none
Dear Flappy, give me the strength to not eat this guy.
Viv’s eyes were cast to heaven (well, not heaven. She was staring at the ceiling, where a seven year old pancake everyone called Flappy was still stuck, and Viv considered to be the patron saint keeping her from eating her more annoying customers) as she zoned out to the dulcet tones of a forty year old man who insisted he knew what he wanted, but was mulling over literally every single item on the menu. Any time she suggested she could return in five minutes once he’d made up his mind, the guy with the noticeable colored hairspray covering up the bald patch on the back of his head insisted he was ready now.
White teeth were forced into a grimace of a smile as he hemmed and hawed over pancakes or waffles or both- or what about eggs? Viv heard the bell on the door jangle, announcing a customer. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to see who had walked in, and the forced smile became something slightly more genuine. But then Spray Paint Hair Salon changed his mind about his drink order, and the woman barely restrained herself from stabbing him with her pencil.
A full five minutes later, the man’s order was finally in (short stack of chocolate chip with strawberry compote and whip, side of well done bacon, two sunny side up, and a large black coffee with seven and a half sugars), Viv made her way over to the only other person in the diner at that late hour. She dropped her voice so her boss wouldn’t hear her as she lost her attempt at cheery customer service entirely. “Holy fucking shit am I glad it’s you that walked through the door, and not another dipshit who can’t make up his mind. It’s a fucking breakfast place. Order some pancakes and call it a day, holy shit.” She heaved a sigh, happy to have the rant temporarily out of her system. “Anyway. What’s up handsome? What am I getting you on this incredibly tedious evening?”
—
When it came to his late night adventures, Mateo wasn't always out committing a crime. Nor was he feasting on his next victim. Sometimes, when Xóchitl was sound asleep and mobile games could no longer hold his attention, Mateo liked to head to the diner where could not only eat some of his favorite dishes, but get some chisme, too.
“Hey, Viv, how's the almighty Flappy?” The mare removed his jacket and offered the waitress a grin. She was bitterly annoyed by the only other customer in the place, which led Mateo to say something a little more forward. “Well, we could always go to the back for your break and then by the time we're done, my usual will be hot and ready for me.”
He smirked knowingly, gaze flashing over to the piece of work Viv had just taken an order for. “Doubt Spray Paint Advertisement will be gone, but you'll be satisfied, no problem.” Mateo’s face lit up with an amused grin and he leaned back in his booth. There was a real offer in there somewhere, sure, but he didn't mind a little rejection. Hell, Viv was working.
__
“Oh he’s great. Still hasn’t granted me the secrets of the universe, or given me a sign that violence actually is the answer that I can start biting people. Pretty average day for Flappy, honestly.” Viv glanced up at the gravity defying pancake, as though it would suddenly give her the high sign that she was all good to make the indecisive middle aged man into her midnight snack, audience be damned.
Viv couldn’t help the grin that wormed its way onto her face. “Damn, I’ve only got a fifteen left before my shift is over. You sure that’s enough time for satisfaction guaranteed?” She teased. If her boss ever overheard her, she’d probably be fired. But hey, Mateo had started it. And it was the middle of night, it wasn’t like a family of four was seated at the booth behind her. The place was empty, and-
“Miss? Excuse me Miss? Miss? Miss, excuse me?” Came the nasal whine from the other side of the diner. Viv closed her eyes and counted to three, heaving out a slow hiss of a breath as she pressed her tongue against the tip of an ever sharpening canine. You cannot eat spray paint dye job, you cannot eat spray paint dye job, you cannot - “Miss?” Viv opened her eyes, looking at Mateo as though to say ‘are you fucking kidding me’ before scribbling down Mateo’s usual order. “I’ll be right back.” She insisted, keeping a tight reign on her desire to play darts with the bald guy’s head as her target.
Viv smoothed a hand over the front of her retro diner uniform, and approached the other diner. “Yes, what can I get for you?” She asked, masking the annoyance in her voice with a nearly toxic sweetness. “Yes, I’d like to change my order- can I get blueberry preserves instead? Oh, and a half a grapefruit. And more sugar for my coffee.” Viv blinked. She’d already seen him dump an obscene amount of sugar into the beverage. She could see the evidence of it littering the table. And yet it still wasn’t sweet enough. Viv grabbed a fistfull of sugar packets off the caddy on the next table and dumped them on the table in front of him. “I’ll get that order change in.” Viv’s beaten up combat boots pivoted and she went back to the kitchen to update the order before beelining back to Mateo’s booth, where she shamelessly plopped herself down in the booth across from him, his coffee in hand. “If you see me sharpening my pencil, either come up with an alibi or stop me.” She grumbled.
—
“Then he also hasn’t given you a sign that violence isn’t the answer.” He leaned forward, hands clasped cooly together on the table. His smile didn’t reveal his teeth, but the contentment was evident, reaching all the way up to his eyes. Though that was a little difficult to see with the shades Mateo was wearing. His upright cheeks would just have to do.
“Fifteen minutes?” A snort, then he lowered his voice. “That’s all the time my mouth needs, honestly.” There was almost a wink tacked on to the end of that, but Mateo thought it might come off too corny or too presumptuous, so he just smiled, brows raised. “Up to–” Their conversation was interrupted by Spraypaint Cockblock. Mateo chuckled and shook his head, watching Viv walk away to ruefully do her job. He could hear the grit in her voice, laying deeply below her cheery tone. Understandable. She had a boss to placate to keep her job.
When she returned, Mateo had an idea running through his head. A little chaos, as always, but what was a little danger between friends? “I can get rid of him for you, if you want.” He looked over Viv’s shoulder. “No pencil required.”
__
“Mateo, I like the way you think. I’m not sure my boss will, but I do.” Perhaps Flappy would be the patron saint Viv needed; the one that turned a blind eye when a customer was being an asshole. A smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth as she thought about yelling at a Karen, or opening her mouth wide to swallow an annoying little man like the one a few feet away whole… except if she did that on shift, the Viv would be stuck slithering around the diner taking everyone’s orders looking like Medusa’s hotter cousin. She sighed.
Well he was certainly confident in his ability. Viv was about to bet he couldn’t- just to be a contrarian pain in the ass before taking him up on the offer so he could prove her wrong. But no. Of course not. The balding man with a streaky splotch of brown cover up spray on the crown of his head, who looked like his name would be something bland and milquetoast like Milton, absolutely needed more sugar packets.
Viv rolled her shoulders as she sat down in the booth. What she wouldn’t give for an energy drink, a cigarette, and one big, snake-girl sized meal. And maybe some stress relief. Her stomach growled softly as Mateo talked about getting rid of the guy. Little did he know she would have needed very little help in that department. “Eh, I’d be fine. But you can bring music or a shovel if I really need an assist.” She blinked a few times, trying to ignore the thought of a tasty little snack. But her vision had shifted. She was certain she was staring at the man with bright red eyes instead of brown ones. Shit. She blinked a few more times, hoping he’d thought the slitted pupils were a trick of the light. She amended her previous thought. An energy drink, a cigarette, a snake-girl sized meal, stress relief, and for whatever the fuck was going on in that cursed-ass town to settle so she could at least have more control over her shifting. Her eyes landed on the shiny ring on the man’s left hand. “And Mister or Missus Mateo doesn’t mind you offering your services to random women from the diner?” She asked, her mouth quirking into a half smile. It wouldn’t have been her first time seeing an alternative arrangement. She had lived for years in the definition of an alternative lifestyle. But she was not about to step in where she shouldn’t. “Shiny bit of hardware you picked up. Congratulations are in order, I assume?”
—
“Just whack him with a forget-stick and all will be fine. Trust me, I'm a professional.” Which wasn't actually a lie! Viv should definitely not trust him though, because more often than not, people did indeed still remember after being knocked out, but still. She didn't have to know that.
There was a faint growl coming from Viv's stomach, and as he began to raise a curious brow, Mateo caught the way the woman's eyes changed. The pupil was reptilian and her iris was a hue of red. Had he not seen the slit pupil, Mateo would've thought she might be a mare, but it was obvious she was something else entirely.
Now, he wasn't exactly knowledgeable on what kinds of species there were in the world, but if he had to guess, Viv was a snake shifter person. Something along those lines. The only way to confirm was to ask, so Mateo leaned forward to keep the question quiet, but was quickly diverted by Viv's question.
“Are you–oh.” He looked at his hand and chuckled. “Yeah. Missus Soon-to-be-Lara–who proposed to me by the way–has her own services and I have mine. Sometimes they come together, sometimes not.” Shrugging, Mateo took the opportunity to circle back to his own question, trying not to seem like he's bouncing. “If I do provide you mine though…” His voice lowered, as did his sunglasses. “Am I gonna get bit or something?”
__
“God, if the forget stick worked on the shit show that would create, I’d bonk my boss with it all the time.” But Viv was pretty sure watching your employee who was suddenly and inexplicably a gigantic snake woman swallow down a patron before digging through their wallet and coiling up comfortably to have a little post dinner nap wasn’t one of those things one simply forgot.
“Congratulations,” she gave him a little round of applause. Viv didn’t think she’d ever settle down. The nearly three years stuck in one place had her skin crawling. She felt like an animal, trapped in a cage at the zoo, watching as everyone else came and went freely. She couldn’t think of trying herself to one place, much less one person. But for Mateo, it seemed he and his fiancée had worked out their own arrangement. Good for them.
Viv’s eyes flared with interest as his glasses dipped down, revealing glowing red eyes. Now that was interesting. No one was coming out of the kitchen, and no one else was likely to come in at that time of night. So, she decided to unwind a bit. She blinked, and leaned into the middle of the table, watching the definitely-not-quite-human with interest, slitted red eyes unblinking. She felt her skin prickle as the smattering of pale pink scales that always seemed to creep up her cheeks and around her eyes when she was relaxed settle onto her face, like she’d shed a layer of skin, and they’d always been just under the surface.
“Bite?” Viv licked her lips before it darted out a second time, forked and flickering for a minute before she tucked it back behind a grin. “Only if you ask me very nicely. Him, however…” she bit her once again normal tongue between sharpened teeth that seemed to curve in, meant for gripping and dragging prey down. “It’s less of a bite situation and more of a swallowing one. And that, unfortunately, takes a hell of a lot longer than fifteen minutes.”
—
“I mean…” Mateo pursed his lips knowingly and sucked his teeth. “I can probably take care of your boss too. No mess, either.” All it would take was a simple touch and voila, they'd be asleep and Viv could have her snack. Perhaps Mateo too if Viv wasn't too tired, but that wasn’t exactly the priority at the moment.
“Thanks,” The mare smiled a little bashfully to himself, the curl of his lips just a tad smug at knowing what a bad woman he’d bagged. He felt like some kind of action fucker with the best life possible. Basically John Wick without all the stupid tragedy. Great movies, but they always made Mateo second guess his lifestyle for some reason. He didn’t dwell on it. Especially not when scales scattered across Viv’s face and a snake-forked tongue revealed itself.
Mateo swallowed and felt his skin grow warm at just how attractive he found the serpent attributes. Damn. Oblivious humans must really miss out. “I’ll even beg if you want me to,” He finally said, gathering his wits about him. “Watch and you’ll be swallowing in no time.” Drumming his fingers across the table, Mateo slid out of the booth with a giant grin and sauntered over to the source of all of Viv’s problems. He plopped himself onto the neighboring stool, and clasped his hands together, to which the man grumbled and asked for Mateo to move at least one stool down.
“Free country, right?” The mare smirked, leaning in to blow the man a kiss. He rolled his eyes and sank into himself, but Mateo didn’t let up. “Hey, watch it!” Spraypaint hissed, hips swiveling away from Mateo. That didn’t matter much though because Mateo took the man’s seat and swung him back around to palm his face. A few muffled expletives and sounds of struggle later, and the poor guy was knocked out. Mateo led his head down carefully onto the counter, then spun around to give Viv a thumbs up.
__
“Eh, I like my boss well enough. And the guy in the kitchen.” Viv hummed, glancing through the small square pane of glass in the kitchen door, where she could see Gus working away on Mateo’s order. Her stomach twisted again, hunger making itself know. Mateo pouring gasoline on the smoldering ember of a thought that she could just eat the guy wasn’t helping her to ignore the idea. “Miss,” came the man’s whiny, insistent voice once again. “Miss I don’t think this is seven and a half sugars, it tastes like six and three quarters-“ Viv’s resolve snapped. Spraypaint had to go.
“It won’t hurt them, will it?” She had to check. She wouldn’t even consider letting Mateo do… whatever the fuck Mateo was going to do, if Gus was going to get hurt in the process. He was a nice guy- reminded her of Grizz. Gruff, and grumpy, but always had good stories and insisted on Viv having something to eat. God she missed that old bear.
She watched as Mateo set to work, going over to sit next to the mousy little man who quit his whining about sugars as Mateo strolled over to sit next to him. Viv observed, amused, and jammed her pen back into her bun. It wasn’t long before Spraypaint was slumped over, snoring steadily. The woman nodded slowly, impressed. “Fucking enter sandman, I guess.” She whistled. “If you can keep the others napping for…” she looked over the snoring snack that napped at the counter, trying to estimate how long she’d need for him to settle in her stomach. “Call it an hour, hour-fifteen… I think I can make this work.”
—
“Nah. A little touch and they’re out. That’s all it is.” Mateo reassured Viv, “I’ll even make sure they don’t hit their heads.” Clicking his tongue, the mare held a finger up for Viv to give him a moment, then he promptly disappeared to search for the other two. It took only a handful of minutes for Mateo to secure the area for Viv’s meal, a few flares of his hands and a stealthy touch. He had to ensure there were no security cameras, or at the very least, he had to pause the devices so no footage was taken. He was a professional.
Returning to his spot, he stretched happily, only for his smile to fall into a frown when he realized Gus hadn’t gotten to his ticket on the orders yet. Dammit. “You owe me pancakes. I should’ve let Gus finish instead of thinking with my dick.” Mateo smacked his face and groaned, but there was an indisputable playfulness about it. Realistically, he could leave now and make some pancakes himself. That would take effort, though. On top of that, he didn’t want to miss the show.
“So…do I get to watch you swallow?”
__
“Neat trick.” Viv was almost jealous. The ability to put someone to sleep with just a touch must have been convenient. She could imagine it could get him out of some scrapes. It scratched at something in the back of her mind. She was fairly certain someone with a similar skill set had joined the merry little band of performers with Brousseau & O’Tuach’s not long before she’d wound up stuck in Wicked’s Rest. Viv hadn’t spoken with them much, and she couldn’t remember what they’d called what they were. But she could remember Grizz had added them to ‘security’.
Within minutes, quiet fell over the diner. Viv felt that gnawing pang in her stomach as she looked at the now unconscious customer. She tilted her head to the side a moment, trying to see if there was any reason she shouldn’t make him a snack. She cast into his pockets, fishing out his phone and wallet. A few minutes of snooping told her he likely wouldn’t have anyone looking for him, and his hobbies included leaving shitty yelp reviews about places that didn't meet his exact specifications. Viv shrugged. Good enough for her. She snorted at Mateo’s grumblings about his pancakes. “Sucks to suck. Should have waited for Gus to say order up.” The woman sighed, languidly stretching her back as she slipped into something more comfortable.
When she’d been younger, she’d found the transition from legs to a tail jarring. It wasn’t until she was practically an adult, finding a home with the circus, that it felt right. “Think of it like shedding a skin.” Stasi had told her, her own legs disappearing as grey scales appeared, fusing the limbs together until one long tail curled out beneath her. “It’s still you, no matter what form you’re in. You’re just changing to adapt to your new situation.” Fangs emerged from gums that had gone from pink to inky black. Viv had always thought Stasi had gotten a better deal out of the lamia curse. The woman who had become like an older sister to her shared her appearance with a black mamba, and picked up the viper’s venomous bite. Viv looked more like the sort of snake people kept as pets. Small and unthreatening. But when it came down to it, they were both deadly when they were hungry.
Viv shuddered in anticipation. Pink scales rippled across her skin, her legs pressing together until a smooth sheen of pink and white scales formed one long tail that curved across the diner’s linoleum floor as she slithered closer to her prey. “Sure,” The lamia turned back to wink one red serpentine eye at her assistant. Pink scales had crept up her neck up onto the sides of her face- her blush, Stasi had jokingly called it. “I don’t mind an audience.” The last syllable came out as a hiss on a forked tongue. She turned her attention back to her meal with a grin, before her mouth opened far wider than any humans ever should, and she feasted.
—
Mateo groaned petulantly, slouching with disappointment and laying his upper body dramatically over the counter. In that position, all he had to do was lift his head up to see what Viv was getting up to. He blinked at the sight, marveling at how her skin and eyes gave way to something more reptilian.
An instinctual, prey-like shiver ran down Mateo's spine. He knew he was fine. He knew he was safe. It was just that his hard-wired prey drive begged him to use his common sense and turn around to run. No chance of that though, so Mateo remained, stock-still and happily wide-eyed. He could even feel the inkling of a little, sinister twinkle brightening more and more the longer he looked.
What was playing out in front of him was pure horror. Disgusting horror. It delighted the mare. So much so that Mateo stayed completely quiet during the whole process. As someone prone to over-talk, that meant he was absolutely mesmerized. A delighted, demented smile spread across his face for the entirety of the show, and when Viv finished her meal, she received applause.
“Fuckin’ shit, man. Do it again!”
___
Viv knew eating the man ‘clothes and all’ would wreak havoc on her stomach later, but a little indigestion in the name of an actual meal was worth it. She’d grab Tums on her way home. When she’d been a little girl, this part had always frightened her. The way she could swallow down prey as big as she was with so little effort. There’d been a time when she was scared she was a freak- that no one alive was like her in that regard. No one else was cursed to gobble down live prey the same way a snake would feast on a rat. Finding the circus had truly changed her life. She hadn’t been alone anymore.
The lamia swallowed down the last of the annoying patron, her thumb swiping smudged lipstick back into place. Viv stretched, coiling in on herself as the drowsy contentment of a full stomach washed over her. “No one else here’s worth eating,” she yawned, curved teeth and forked tongue glaringly apparent as she curled into a ball of pink scales. “Plus, then I’d probably be out of commission for at least two hours.” The tip of her tail flickered from where it poked out of the coils of pale scales. “Find me another asshole to eat next month, and sure, you can have a repeat performance.” Red eyes blinked lazily as she watched the only other conscious soul in the place. “Do me a favor, and I’ll comp your pancakes you never got. Just make sure nobody comes in and sees the big ass snake lady and gets any stupid ideas.”
—
Looking around the restaurant, and then outside through the windows, everything was quiet. A minute had passed and no car had driven by. Another went, and still, nothing. Mateo checked his watch and noted the time. Three in the morning. Pretty fucking late for anyone to be out, but then again, what was Mateo doing? He chuckled to himself and watched Viv with amusement.
“That's two favors so far, Vibora.” He gestured to Viv's stomach and then pointed his thumb back toward the kitchen and manager's office. “Actually, make that three.” Mateo snorted, dragging out a stool from the bartop. He wasn't actually keeping score, but it wasn't in him to just let a tease slip from his fingers.
Plopping himself down on the stool, Mateo took a deep breath and leaned backwards against the wall by the front entrance. He stretched hard with a groan and took out his phone, shooting a smile over to Viv. Maybe he didn't get his pancakes, but he sure did have fun. “Hurry up and nap. I wanna be home before sunrise.”
—
She rolled her eyes as she settled down. “Hey, you offered. Can’t blame a bitch for taking advantage of the situation.” Viv sighed, stretching every last muscle in her body before lazily resting down on the warm pink scales of her tale. The gnawing hunger in her stomach was satiated for a good while now, and no one other than spray paint guy had gotten hurt. And she had a friend with a handy little party trick.
“I’ll have you out of here with a to-go box in no time. Just lemme catch a little mid-shift siesta.” She mumbled, her eyes sliding shut. She didn’t know Mateo well enough to trust him with all her secrets, but he definitely wasn’t human. And he’d helped her out. So Viv allowed the tightly wound muscles in her shoulders to relax, allowing the constant fight or flight state that being alone had left her in to slide away. She wasn’t alone. At least not that night. “G’night.” The lamia yawned, before drifting off to sleep.
The fuck is a trust friend? Either way, let me just totally take your super great and helpful advice and put it somewhere with all the other fucking stupid commentary.
Lmao you are so emotional. No wonder you can't find anyone. One little thing doesn't go how you want and you throw a bitchfit? I like easy men, but that's not what I had in mind.
