Discover Top Posts Tagged with #c:parker

Bugging Each Other || Anita & Parker

TIMING: August 8, 2023 LOCATION: Lyssa’s Peak PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake) and Paker (@wonder-in-wings) SUMMARY: Anita invited Parker out to hike and search for insects in the woods. Unbeknownst to her, Parker is under the effects of an abnormality crystal. Anita is her usual self. Things go exactly how you would expect they would, featuring an unexpected guest star.

Anita wasn’t entirely sure why she invited this man to one of her favorite bug spotting locations. None of their online interactions had been remotely positive. They were neutral, at best, and frequently tapered off from neutral to negative at an exponential pace. Yet there she was, the early sunlight of the dawn creating golden shadows that danced across her features as she stood on the edge of a forest trail awaiting this irksome and questionably qualified curator.

Maybe that was it - she wanted to see Parker in action and figure out just how well he knew his shit. After all, a novice curator without any professional training couldn’t possibly be more knowledgeable about insects than Anita was. And that wasn’t to say that intellect and formal education were corollaries, but Anita had dedicated every aspect of her life to this niche topic - she needed to be better at it than he was.

Having done as much online stalking as she could, Anita recognized the tall blonde man immediately. He was also the only other person around, which given the time of day was a fairly dead give away as to who he was. “You’re late,” the idea of starting off on the right foot had crossed her mind, but she ignored it.

—

Day 8.

The Warden thought the conversations online were shaky but ultimately, Anita could’ve called herself either the garbage queen or even a fae at this point and Parker would’ve taken her up on an offer to go searching for bugs. Granted, this was before the incident with Felix and when he had the idea for how this would go in his mind, he wasn’t anticipating having to compensate for the plunge into abyssal, emotional depth he’d taken. No… that wasn’t correct, even now. It wasn’t a plunge, as though he got to choose to jump into the murky black tar that clung to his every thought, his every waking moment, every feeling on his skin, even some of the looks he gave. It was an edge. Or a pendulum. Fortunately, she had opted out of a graveyard. Unfortunately, Parker wasn’t as well-versed in Lyssa’s Peak. Even more unfortunately was as he arrived at the approximate coordinates she had left for him, trudging to the path from the car he parked a safe distance away on the off-chance something would happen, she decided to make a comment about how he was late. No wonder her roommate had left her, if she was like this all the time, the way she stood there with her arms crossed, her expression naturally glaring and vindictive and with a bite to her tone. He approached her, slowing to a stop and standing a foot taller than her and yet she carried herself with the authority of a woman demanding she speak to his manager. Not a great start and Parker’s dominant hand subconsciously began flexing and extending, opening, closing in a rhythmic gesture as he settled the immediate wave of frustration that washed over him. He didn’t want to turn around and wordlessly go back the way he came. “Apologies.” He muttered through gritted teeth, a false apology. He normally wasn’t late; he normally wasn’t many things he was that early morning. And he wasn’t about to explain why he was late, as the reason was both exasperating and embarrassing. Maybe if she was observant she’d be able to see the uncharacteristic dark circles that had rapidly accumulated under Parker’s steely blue stare and apply logic. Or maybe she could see his thick leather belt with its many pouches, daggers and the spiked iron knuckles that hung from a chain and wouldn’t press any harder. …The latter of which was definitely going to happen, if first impressions and conversations online were anything to use as references. “What specimens frequent this area?” He decided to ask, pushing through the formalities though he kept his eyes on her keenly.

—

Not that she would ever think to admit it, but Anita was a bit impressed by the fact that he didn't even bother to justify or explain why he was late. It fit with what she knew about the man - not one for niceties for the sake of niceness. He wasn't exactly what she had expected. He seemed unnecessarily angry and on edge. Having never met him before, however, Anita had no way to know if that was his usual posture or if was something reserved for this specific interaction.

After taking note of his affect, the next thing she noticed were the weapons affixed to his belt. Were Anita not confident that she could hold her own against him they would have caused her concern - he came out to meet a strange woman in the woods and he came fairly heavily armed. It made her wonder what he knew about these woods. ”No specimens that warrant all that,“ she replied, gesturing towards the belt.

In an effort to show that the daggers had no effect on her, Anita turned her back towards him and began to walk down the path towards the clearing she intended to bring him to. ”There's a fair amount of beetle species out this way. I like this area in particular because as you head further towards the peak you come across a variety of different micro-ecosystems which provides a fair amount of biodiversity.“

That was going to be part of her personal test of him, checking on how quickly he was able to identify the different insects they came across. Anita wasn't so snobbish to think that his lack of formal education constituted a lack of knowledge, but she was petty enough to hope that she would catch him off his game and prove that she was the true expert between them. ”Hopefully you got your beauty rest, we've got a bit of a hike ahead of us.“

—

He understood that he might’ve been a little bit over-prepared for something as seemingly innocuous as hunting for bugs that early morning but given everything that was in that town, let alone how unnecessarily on edge he constantly felt over the past week, Parker didn’t really consider any of it to be superfluous. She certainly didn’t seem to be intimidated by anything on his person as she willingly turned her back to him to lead him to wherever they were supposedly going, which… he didn’t really think that she would’ve been. Everything about her exuded confidence, a sense of intellectual superiority from how they’d talked online. So, he followed her, feeling the soft morning air on his bare arms as the sleeves of his blue Henley were gathered around his elbows, glancing around the unfamiliar environment. She mentioned beetle species and he wondered if she was being purposefully vague due to the assumption that she didn’t think he knew what she would’ve been talking about by mentioning specific suborders. Parker wouldn’t have put that past her, either and the thought sent another pulse in his hands, which gripped the thick leather of his belt tightly but briefly before loosening again. “Rest is rest; its appearance has no merit on anything. I’ll keep up, you needn’t concern yourself with that.” He remarked rather absently, though he didn’t want to think about how he hadn’t received much of any sleep the night before, beautiful or otherwise. Instead of lingering on that aspect, he continued on after her with the knowledge already cemented in his brain that he would most likely be sore after this venture, but ideally with a new specimen or two to add to his collection. “Are we talking about polyphaga?” He asked in an attempt to make small talk as they walked.

—

There was something about the cool August morning air that made Anita slightly homesick. Even the dead of summer in Maine never got quite as hot as her desert home but the feeling of the warm sun on her skin always pulled her back there mentally. But now wasn't the time to dwell on that, especially not with the present company. Instead she just continued leading them down the forest path keeping a diligent eye out for certain flora that she knew would be a prime host for unique insects.

The mention of polyphaga was amusing, and thankfully with her back still towards him Parker wouldn't have seen Anita's slight smirk at the mention of the scientific name. “Given that 90% of beetles fall into that suborder... yes, I expect we will see many polyphaga. Around this time of year there are a lot of curculionoidea and tenebrionoidea.”

It was interesting. Had their online interactions gone differently this meet-up may have been more of a meeting of the minds opposed to a competition. But that wasn't the case. Anita looked up at the tree cover above them, watching some of the birds dance around in the spotted beams of sunlight. ”You're not a local either, if I remember correctly.” Ameture bug enthusiasts usually had limited information on the insects of foreign ecosystems. “So, why insects?” It was a question she got asked all the time and while, in her younger years it had bothered her, Anita had grown to appreciate it. After all, it was nothing more than an opportunity to talk about one of her biggest passions.

—

She was being smug and he, in turn, was thankful that she had her back to him otherwise she would’ve caught his lip curling slightly in disdain; if she hadn’t been vague in the first place, he wouldn’t have felt the need to specify, if only a little bit. “I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on a specimen from pyrochroidae; it’s been a while.” Parker remarked rather quietly, one of his hands continuing to rest on his belt in its familiar place of safety and comfort while the other subconsciously flexed and extended his fingers in their rhythmic motion, giving him something to do silently as he dealt with any threatening swing of the pendulum in his mind. Tired, but ever-sharp blue eyes were narrowed, almost like a hawk scanning the environment for prey which wasn’t entirely inaccurate - Parker, raised in the bayous of Louisiana, wasn’t accustomed to these temperatures but the crisp morning air wasn’t unwelcome, seeming to do the trick to forcibly wake him up where he might’ve been lagging in certain mental aspects. “Why not insects.” He replied at first, perhaps a little too casually and it took him about a minute before he realized that she was either trying to engage in small talk or test him to see if he really was interested in the subject as she was. “Insects were my learning tools when I was a child.” He explained after the moment of silence. “I was… motivated by little else.” He opted to leave off the parts where his family, even his mother, chalked him up as a failure because of the limited scope with which he viewed the world. ‘You’re broken. But I don’t hate you for it anymore’, his father had said, late into their relationship and shortly before he died. “...” He breathed in, as though about to say something else but nothing came out except for a soft exhale and his mouth closed once more. “...You?”

—

His response was vague. Anita couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t care to talk about it or if it was because he didn’t care to talk to her about it. At least in their online interactions even when he was being a dick he was still talkative. It wasn’t as much fun without the tet-a-tet back and forth. “My grandfather had an extermination business. My father took me with him from time to time on jobs and before I even had words for them, I was captivated by insects. The curiosity grew until it consumed me entirely. Like most of the natural world, they speak to an inherent truth that people often try to resist: everyone has a place in their ecosystem and their value has nothing to do with their size but, rather, their contributions to that ecosystem.”

Turning her head just enough to make brief eye contact, Anita continued, “Ecosystems are delicate. When creatures fail to fulfill their purpose within them, they fall apart.” It was one of the few absolute truths that Anita knew and she wondered if he knew it too. Sometimes it felt like that is what Anita had done to her own ecosystem - to her own family. She failed to fulfill her purpose, she left, and as a result things fell apart.

As they turned a corner and approached a small clearing, Anita spotted a cluster of trees with decaying bark at their bases that should be home to a plethora of pyrochroidae and other similar beetles. Without pointing it out or saying anything, she changed course and headed towards them, dropping into a squat once she got close to them. “You spend much time out in the woods?” Maybe that was why he had an arsenal of weapons hanging off his hips. Maybe he knew what else was out here.

—

Her answer was much more robust than his and Parker wondered, just briefly, if he was supposed to supply a heartier answer than the one he had given. The thought was brief because he was already under such a strong impression that he was being silently tested by Anita, scrutinized from every angle in an attempt to seem like she was better than him that he assumed her judgment extended to something as personal as why he had gotten into entomology. As he thought about it, then thought about thinking about it, he could feel himself threatening to fall into a spiral so instead, he pushed the thoughts aside and caught eye contact, keeping his eyes on her far longer than she had as they walked. They turned, he followed her without prompting and he continued to look around as he chewed on what she had said, about how fragile nature had a tendency to be sometimes and how one weak link could disrupt the chain. Part of Parker wondered if she was simply waxing poetic or if there was a hidden meaning in her words but the thought was discarded as they drew close to a selection of trees with their peeling bark. Wordlessly, as she crouched, he tread more lightly and took a few steps to a different trunk, blue eyes scanning the surface for movement, a place to gently pry the bark away. “I do.” He replied, again almost leaving it at that. ‘Man, she gives you one impression that she doesn’t care and suddenly you clam up. That’s not becoming, bro.’ “Being outside of town provides clarity. I don’t… get along well with humans.” Parker added, his delivery still blunt and objective.

—

There was something familiar, and therefore unsettling, in Parker’s prolonged eye contact. Anita was not naive enough to believe that the only dangerous creatures out in the woods were like her. She knew there was a perverse breed of humans that were objectively an evolutionary marvel, who had evolved to track and kill those like her. She’d known some in her time. Eaten most of them.

Based on how their conversation had been going, Anita expected that Parker was going to end his response with those two words. Instead he continued, his response being the first real thing that he has said that piqued her interest. “I get along with humans but I don’t care much for them.” It was possibly too telling of a response but she could explain it away if necessary. “I feel that nature, these creatures,” gesturing to a cluster of bark beetles she had uncovered, “this is where I’m most understood.”

“Can I ask a question without you immediately becoming offended by it?” Anita was going to ask it anyway, but she decided to preface it with that inquiry. In her mind it softened the question. In her mind it was a way to signify that she was asking without judgment. That’s how it came across in her mind, anyway. “Your temperament suggests you would make a fine scientist. Your ego suggests you would make a good one, possibly. Why no formal schooling?”

—

Her response to his comment about people was unusual, to say the least. She wasn’t a fae, that much was obvious. Perhaps Parker should’ve said that he didn’t get along with ‘people’. Every once in a while, it slipped his mind that there were shifters, vampires (which he also assumed she wasn’t one because the sun was creeping into the sky and from his limited understanding, they couldn’t be in direct sunlight) and other associated beings in town. It was easier for him to separate fae from humans, from people who lived normal lives and weren’t interested in disrupting humanity for petty reasons. But he didn’t say ‘people’. Parker said ‘humans’, which was his mistake and now with the thought that maybe she wasn’t a human herself created a new wariness inside of him. He wasn’t afraid of her and likely wouldn’t ever be, but he could hear his father telling him that it was good to be prepared for anything, regardless of whether or not he was equipped to. And the Warden couldn’t say that he could relate - insects were just that, and he wasn’t an insect. They were beautiful, serving their purposes, whatever that was, feeling part of their environment. Parker was a machine, an automaton who didn’t fit in anywhere. He wasn’t created to fit into a grand scheme, a plan, a tapestry. He was genetically engineered to perform one function and he had long since accepted that about himself. It was this explanation that answered her question before he could formulate the words. “It… wasn’t considered important.” He replied rather quietly, once he clenched and unclenched his hands as he felt the initial wave of frustration wanting him to become incendiary towards her for prefacing her question with ‘don’t get offended’ pass over him. “To my parents, it was a teaching method. To the rest of my family, it’s a shortcoming.” He explained, his gaze softening as he approached her trunk to see what she had found; they may not have gotten along, but it was easy for him to set aside his pride when it came to observing insects, appreciating them. “I wasn’t designed for this. My father considered me a failure.” Everything Parker said was said in the same tone, flat and blunt though he could feel his insides wanting to burn up with irritation that his father thought of him like that so late into his life. ‘And I still do sometimes, boy.’ “So it’s a passion, but that’s it.” He acknowledged, looking sideways at Anita. “I probably don’t know as much as you. But I know enough to be considered an outlier to my family and the purpose of my existence.”

—

Finally, Anita thought as Parker provided more than a one-sentence response. It was proving difficult to keep pestering him about the like, two things she knew about it. Strained familial relationships, that was something. Unfortunately for her, it was something she related to all too well. Shit, maybe this was backfiring. It was easy enough to not empathize with him, but this was venturing towards sympathy. “Formal education wasn’t considered important in my family, either.” Anita decided to opt for the truth, content with acknowledging the distinctions in their paths. “My family does not give a shit about my degrees, my accomplishments. They think it all a waste.” She didn’t add the humanity context. They only felt that way because they could not wrap their heads around her choosing to live among humans. “My father is the only one who supports me, despite not understanding.”

Maybe that last bit was unnecessary to add, but Anita wasn’t going to acknowledge that. Instead, she decided to move on. It was never in question but it was extremely satisfying to hear him admit she knew more than he did. At least he had some common sense. “And what is the purpose of your existence?” She worked hard to make sure that her tone sounded genuine, like a deadly robber fly presenting itself to the world as a harmless bumble bee. It seemed unlikely that he would continue to open up… but she wanted to see how far she could push this.

—

As they examined the insects that skittered along on the bark, minding their own business, Parker didn’t think he was expecting… ‘Is it empathy or sympathy?’ His brother asked. ‘Like he can tell the difference.’ His father replied as the Warden remembered this conversation vividly as it happened decades ago now. Whichever one it was, he had little to say in terms of emotional value when Anita explained her own reasoning in an attempt to do either of those things. Usually, that was the part of the story where the two sides of the same coin would engage in some wholesome conversation about how they weren’t so different, how they could find things to bond over. Anita’s family apparently didn’t understand her, either. That was where it ended, though. They didn’t understand, but she still sought higher education. Her father was the only one who supported her; Parker couldn’t say the same about his own father. She got to do whatever she wanted to do. She didn’t speak like a hunter and she wasn’t a fae. She might not have been human, but then again, neither was he when he recalled what other people called him. Then came the main question, the one Parker never really had a sufficient answer for for some reason or another. He kept his half-lidded blue eyes on the insects astutely as he let the question linger in the air - he figured she didn’t like the pauses between conversation, but she wasn’t the only one vying for control in this scenario. There was also the likely possibility that she didn’t care; from their interactions so far, nothing about her indicated that she actually wanted to know. This was all small talk. They might not have been so different but they were different enough. And Parker didn’t benefit from having someone similar to him in the same vicinity. “It doesn’t matter.” He replied, standing back up and glancing over at the other trunk he had been examining before she found what they were looking for. He wanted to say ‘you don’t care anyway’ but then he would’ve gotten a ‘you’re right’. And he didn’t care that she didn’t care, it wasn’t something that elicited sympathy or empathy. ‘See, I told you he couldn’t tell the difference.’ It simply was. “Can you answer that?” He offered, turning to look down at her. It was a nebulous question, not one that most had the answer to, in his experience.

—

His response was expected and therefore incredibly boring. Anita had invited him out here to prove that she knew the most about the insects they had a shared interest in, but now she was eager to show that she knew about the humans they both had a disinterest in. She didn’t know whether or not he parroted her question back to her because he didn’t have any original questions of his own to ask or if it was a challenge. She took it as the ladder - a push to imply she maybe didn’t have one.

Sure, it was a strange question to ask another person. But Anita wouldn’t have asked it if he hadn’t implied that he, or his family, believed that he had some specific purpose for existing. “I don’t believe I have one singular purpose for existing,” she replied with a shrug as she stood up and looked around the patch of forest they were in. “Just like those beetles that you’re watching, I think we all play important roles within our own ecosystems. Some of us are much further up the food chain than others. Our purpose is just existence. What we do with what we are dealt, well, that’s not purpose - that’s choices. The paradox of free will.”

And as part of her own free will, Anita was starting to think of ways to end their interaction early. Maybe if she provoked him further he would be the one to crack first and leave? “After all, if we have free will, can we also have a pre-designated purpose for existing? Conversely, if we have a pre-designated purpose for existing… can we be said to have free will?” That was, admittedly, all Anita knew about the paradox of free will as she never did much philosophy beyond an intro class she took because some girl she wanted to hook up with was taking the class. But it was enough to sound good. “I’m team free will.”

She had moved around a bit as she was talking, and right after topping off her brief rant a tree branch fell right near where she had just been standing. It startled her very slightly but she tried to maintain an unfazed effect in front of him. Had he not been around Anita likely would have looked up into the tree to see where it had fallen from, but she felt that not even acknowledging it was maybe the cooler way to play it off. “So, yeah, I clearly can answer that question.”

—

The Warden hadn’t anticipated that by him passing the question off to her, placing the ball in her court, it was going to kick-start a lecture. Already quiet, Parker narrowed his gaze as she stood and looked around. Philosophy wasn’t something he held inherent interest for, and hypotheticals weren’t a currency he traded in. He believe in the butterfly effect, to be sure, but with the way his being taught about the fae from such a young age weaved itself around his ideologies, he had long since learned that whether people liked it or not, Fate was predetermined and while one could pull at the threads, the final tapestry would remain the same. So, in essence, it was as Anita had described it. “Why use five words when fifty will do.” He replied dryly instead of saying something conducive such as ‘we might agree’ or ‘I understand your point’. Those thoughts were alien to him on the best of days, and on his worst they inflamed something in his mind. Parker couldn’t stand mirrors, though he never understood why, even now. She spoke too much and then said that she could clearly answer the question but that wasn’t it, was it? Or was that it and she was trying to sound better than him, more superior to him again, as had been the case every time they’d started to engage in conversation? His hands clenched and unclenched as he felt tension start to ripple through his muscles; the pendulum was starting to swing again. And he was getting mad, which was why he wasn’t expecting it to mix with surprise as she moved and almost immediately after, a branch had crashed down where she’d been standing. Instinctively, he glanced up, his brow still furrowed but with a sharp eye darting around like a hawk trying to find its prey. “Stop talking.” Parker ordered, just as dull in his delivery as before.

—

By this point, Anita was beyond done with the conversation. It wasn’t even just because he was so annoying and generally frustrating -- it was because he was boring. Parker hardly even engaged with her and was evidently back to incredibly short responses. It wasn’t fun bothering him when he didn’t react to her. “Here’s five words for ya: stop being a little bitch.” Not her best comeback by any stretch, but it felt satisfying to say.

Had she not been so focused on making a grand exit she may have noticed how his attention turned towards where the branch had fallen with a furrowed intensity. Instead, she turned to go back up the path from where they had come from and hopefully never have to interact with him again. Just as she started leaving, however, another branch fell and the end of it scraped against the back of her arm as she moved. “Ok! Seriously, what the fuck!?” Finally turning her attention upward, Anita tried to figure out what was going on but she didn’t spot anything particularly out of the ordinary and turned her attention back towards Parker, kinda hoping to see if he would get hit with a branch next.

—

The flagrant insult, the choice of words, the fact that Anita justified the Warden’s behavior as him just being difficult for the sake of being difficult (which is exactly what Parker thought she was doing), flared the Warden’s temper and he resisted the strong, white-hot urge to give her a sharp backhand in immediate retaliation. His breath caught in his throat as one of his hands clenched so hard one could almost hear a bone cracking in the tension that wavered dangerously between the two and the inflammation of anger spiking into him was strong enough that he had to physically pull himself away from being so close to her. He didn’t realize that if he just waited a little longer, she would’ve gone through the liberty of removing herself first but as it was, he took the step back, his movements solid as though his iron-toed boots were glued to the ground. Whatever was in the tree had temporarily been completely forgotten as Parker struggled not to react viscerally to what was really such a shallow combination of words, so far beneath him, that he shouldn’t have felt the need to react at all. His nostrils flared with evident irritation and he tore his icy glare off of her back as Anita turned to skulk off, probably thinking that she had ‘won’ this invisible tug-of-war though Parker wasn’t ever competing with her over anything. He hadn’t been, he was content not to. He didn’t care. He just did his job and engaged in his hobbies and someone always had to– Anita’s voice punctured his thoughts and, brow still furrowed, he snapped his head to look in her direction once more where she herself was looking up at the trees again. He glared at her until she looked back at him, where his gaze drifted up towards the trees, much more slowly than before. Right, that’s what he was doing before she decided to turn this into a whole thing. Parker looked into the leaves once more, going from tree to tree, his expression shifting into one that much more closely resembled his default as he felt the pendulum in his mind settling once more. As he was turning more in the direction of where the first branch had come from - he assumed she reacted because she got hit by another one - his sharp eyes caught movement and one of his arms shot out, acting almost autonomously as his hand caught a branch that was aiming right for his shoulder. “It’s an agropelter.” Parker explained, dropping the branch casually and reaching for one of the small crossbow bolts that sat in a quiver on his overly-ambitious utility belt. “You must’ve been making too much noise.” He said pointedly.

—

Anita didn’t know the man in front of her well enough to understand his actions or predict his next steps. She hadn’t had the opportunity to really observe him to get a sense of his temperament. Maybe that was why it was more than a bit surprising at how fast his reflexes were when he caught the tree limb in mid-air. It was impressive and if it had been anyone else who had done that, Anita may have acknowledged that fact. Instead, her expression remained sour as she processed the word he used to describe the creature. It wasn’t one she knew - or had ever heard of before. Another thing that may have been impressive in anyone else. Not that she could really confirm that was the real name of the creature. He could have just been full of shit like she presumed.

Before she could voice her objection to him, essentially, calling her loud; Anita’s eyes caught his hand move towards one of the weapons affixed to his belt. His attention seemed to remain on her as he spoke, creating serious doubt in her mind as to what he intended to do next. Without transformation, Anita had no weapons at her disposal. And based on his recent show of dexterity… she had a feeling he wasn’t going to miss whatever his target was.

This was why she truly hated her human form. Anita hated that, as she stood there, all of her fleshy bits were so exposed and she had no natural defenses. It felt like time was passing so slowly as she waited for him to show his hand and she had two competing survival instincts swirling around her head. Turning to the Mojave would offer obvious physical protection, however, it would simultaneously put the life she had built in this town at risk. She didn’t know this man, or why he could catch that branch with such ease, or why he knew the name of the strange occupants of the trees above. She didn’t know what he would do if he knew her true form. So, against some of her better instincts, Anita remained planted there in all of her humanity with her focus dialed in on his weapon.

__

What had happened, whether it was him catching the branch, stating what it was that was assaulting them or how he carefully reached for and retrieved one of the bolts from his compact quiver, it had finally sufficiently gotten Anita to stop throwing her weight around. Parker’s icy glare focused on her for a moment, gathering the bolt between three fingers before they darted up to the branches once more and he sent the bolt hurling through the air quicker than the human eye could perceive. The bolt disappeared into the foliage where a loud squeak of surprise and pain met his half-deaf ears. A pause, then something small with dark fur fell solidly out of one of the trees and landed on the ground, the bolt protruding from its chest. Parker didn’t need to approach the twitching, quivering mass of fur and flesh to know what it was, nor did he feel the need to put the creature out of its misery as it gasped for breath through a puncture wound in one of its lungs. “It’s a shame you’re insufferable; I would’ve enjoyed discussing insects with you further.” He said bluntly, clenching and unclenching the hand that threw the bolt in a rhythmic motion as he felt an unpleasant combination of anger and what might’ve been… ‘Pride? Do you feel pride?’ Walker asked. Whatever it was, it made the Warden’s body ripple with tension, the coiled spring that was his musculature still on edge from the agropelter and perhaps even what Anita could’ve done to him; Parker had no reason not to think that she was a normal human but nowadays, he knew better than to assume anything about anyone aside from spotting potential weaknesses in movement, deficiencies in behavior. He figured she was something of a fighter, at least if she could match her mouth in terms of meaningless insults. He didn’t want to turn his back to her, and yet… Parker said nothing further to her; as far as he was concerned, this interaction was over. It was over and he felt as though he’d wasted his time. He could’ve just left her to the agropelter; it might’ve taken one or two of her fingers if not just content with throwing things at her, but even when his mind was as annoyingly unstable as it was, pumped with all of those emotions and extreme reactions to things that shouldn’t have been reacted to, he was still a Warden. The agropelter was still a fae that could hurt someone. She didn’t need to know that. Crossing his arms with an irritable sigh, Parker turned and silently walked off.

He was going home. This was a waste; all he got out of it was agitation and being needlessly insulted again.

—

Even with her eyes fixed on his apparent weapon of choice, Anita was sure that her reaction to him deploying the weapon, however small and slight that her muscles flinched, was noted by the man. It felt like a display of weakness though she was unsure why it felt that way. There was no question that he had hit his intended target, the small lifeless body of whatever woodland creature had been in the trees was indisputable evidence of that. Once again, something that she would have expressed openly how impressed she was had the act done by nearly anyone else.

For a split second, no longer, Anita did wonder if she was being too stubborn. Through all of her interactions with the blonde curator, it was apparent that they had substantial commonalities yet she felt so intensely disfavorable towards him. His final comment reminded her why, however, and replaced any lingering positive impressions with a growing rage.

As was her reaction to most circumstances of conflict, Anita immediately considered how easy it would be to simply swallow the arrogant man whole. Surely her mouth could open wide enough to accommodate his ego. Fortunately for Parker her curiosity, morbid or otherwise, told her that it would be more satisfying to get to know him better first. To draw out her inevitable victory and in doing so make the day she did finally vanquish him that much more satisfying.

“I’ll be seeing you,” she finally responded as he began to walk away from her. “Small town after all.” She had no idea if he would take the statements as the threat she intended them to be, but as he faded from her view he similarly faded from her mind for the time being. Anita collected the deceased creature Parker had slain, intending to examine it further back at her lab, before walking off in the opposite direction. Sure, her car was back towards where he was headed but taking the long way back was worth it to not risk any additional interaction.

#c:parker

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#c:parker