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muertarte · 1 month

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TIMING: Right after this

PARTIES: @animotoph0bia @muertarte

SUMMARY: Metzli runs into an injured Finn and decides to help.

WARNINGS: None

Stupid pride. Or had it mostly been fear. For some reason, that stupid skit about never letting anyone take you to a secondary location was on repeat in his head, forcing out pained and involuntary chuckles interrupted by hissing with every other step. Finn couldn’t properly steady his limp and useless arm with the hand that felt like it was on fire, having at some point settled for somewhat leaning against the nearest wall for support.

It wasn’t really working.

Everything felt fuzzy, both his mind and his face, adrenaline starting to drain from his body and leaving only so much exhaustion and pain. Finn was sort of sure that he was heading in the direction of the hospital but honestly, maybe instinct was just leading him home - it was hard to tell. As long as he could get somewhere to lie down, far away from where he’d been in case the man with the knife decided to change his mind. Or unchange it, he supposed.

Like so many times before, Finn didn’t have cash on him and honestly, he wasn’t even sure if a taxi would stop for a guy in his state. His messed up hand was covered in someone else’s blood for fuck’s sake. He rarely put a lot of faith in humanity and tonight was not the time it would change. The sound of a car rolling to a stop had him freezing instead of filling with relief, muscles tensing and pulling at his shoulder as he turned his head, expecting to meet the sinister, blue eyed gaze once again.

Wicked’s Rest was filled with many things. Creatures, beasts, and ghosts that stalked the darkness. Being one of them, Metzli could always spot the others, but more importantly, they could find the victims of their siblings shrouded in night. This was a talent they’d had since their experience in the clan. Even without using their nose, just in sight alone, Metzli was an expert hunter, but that wasn’t the case that evening. Instead, as morality had wrapped itself around their heart the moment their sire died, the vampire offered kindness.

They chose to ignore the way their fangs ached at the smell of blood on the stranger’s hands.

“Excuse me,” Metzli swallowed, gripping their steering wheel tightly as a means to steel themself. The blood smelled so good. “What is wrong with you?” Though the question was blunt and likely to be taken badly, the vampire meant nothing by it. There was no confusion or even a judgmental tone. Just an even and dry question looking for a blatant answer. But maybe Metzli should’ve known better than to continue speaking.

“You look very bad.”

So, not the creepy guy back to finish the job. Was this person creepy? Finn wasn’t sure if his radar for it was correct at the moment, set on high alert. They didn’t feel like much but to be fair, Finn wasn’t sure he had the capacity to feel anything other than his own pain and exhaustion at the moment. Point for the ME, he noted begrudgingly. Tired eyes took in the stranger, their furrowed eyebrows, and tried to detect any hint of hostility. It wasn’t glaringly obvious but then, as this evening had made clear, he was dumb as bricks.

The question made him huff out a laugh because fucking valid, and not just because he looked like shit. “Besides the broken bones? So fucking much,” Finn answered honestly, cocking his head at the follow up statement. “And yes, I’m aware. Which is why I’m heading to the hospital. Or I think I’m heading to the hospital. Maybe home, whichever I find first.” Heaving in a breath, Finn turned from the car to continue the slow shuffle down the street, making it a total of five steps before a fresh wave of pain made his vision go black.

“Fuck,” Finn sighed, slowly but surely sliding down against the wall until he was fully sitting on the ground, cradling the useless appendage. Just a short break, then he’d get right back on track.

Clenching their jaw tightly, the vampire shut their eyes and imagined the roadmap they had memorized of the town. The direction the stranger was heading was the wrong way, and in his bloody and haggard state, Metzli wasn’t sure he was even going to make it to his home if he was wandering aimlessly. Opening their eyes, they swallowed the urge to take a greedy breath of air to calm themself, completely avoiding the scent of blood. They watched the young man’s gait turn into a hobble, his body relinquishing itself to exhaustion. There was no other choice but to help, and maintain control over their hunger while doing so.

“Boy.” They called out to the stranger, trying to get his mind to focus and stay awake as they bolted from their car. When they knelt next to him, that’s when Metzli saw just how serious the injuries were. And thanks to Regan’s many lessons on anatomy and decay, they knew how to label each one.

Lacerations, contusions, a dislocation, and…they narrowed their eyes at his hand, a bit disconcerted at the way it had swelled and appeared wrong. Someone had hurt him, the intention in such an attack plain to see by someone as experienced in fighting and injuring as Metzli was. The story could change though, couldn’t it? They could be a good person, could choose the kindness they’d always wanted to give. They didn’t have to be a monster.

They breathed deeply, “My name is Metzli and I will not hurt you.” It sounded like a promise, red eyes impossible to suppress, but genuine and kind as they softened to accompany Metzli’s statement. “Hospital is other way and I will take you, but I can,” English began to fail them, but after a short pause, Metzli managed to find their way. “Make pain less.” They gestured to the stranger’s shoulder. “Will hurt much at the beginning, but it will be less when it is in right position. Does this have sense to you?”

From somewhere, Finn found the energy to get annoyed at being called a boy, especially by someone who looked maybe a few years older than him. Annoyance was good, though - it cleared his mind just the tiniest bit. Although he was kinda hoping that the glaring red eyes were part of a pain-induced hallucination and not real. Not that it mattered, he wasn’t exactly in a state to run off.

Metzli introduced themselves and it made the blood colored irises a little less spooky. The words did imply that they could hurt him if they felt so inclined but then again, Finn felt like a kitten could end his life at this point so whatever. “Hey, Metzli. I’m Finn. You have red eyes,” he commented tiredly and yeah, maybe he was a tiny bit delirious, shut up. Assistance to the hospital did sound promising, hospitals had medication. His odds of getting there himself without perishing definitely seemed worse than letting this one armed stranger help him. “Nothing makes much sense at this point but as long as the plan isn’t chopping off my arm, go nuts,” Finn resigned, too tired to care. Not like it could hurt more than it currently did, right?

Wrong. Very wrong, and dumb - the unofficial theme of this evening. Finn wasn’t sure if what had left his mouth had even been English, some amalgamation of curses and general noises. He couldn’t even appreciate the strength of Metzli’s single arm, or the fact that they seemed to have done this before. Probably more than once. The part about it hurting a bit less hadn’t been a lie, thank fuck, but as soon as pain gave way, it only left room for more exhaustion. “Ow,” Finn groaned pitifully once black spots cleared from his vision, legs fully the consistency of jello at this point.

Finn was blunt, and it made Metzli smile, though they were sure Finn would think their face was unchanged. “You are bleeding. Blood makes my eyes turn red and fangs appear.” It was a statement they made dryly, unaware if it made the young man uncomfortable. Metzli didn’t think anything could be more uncomfortable than being covered in injuries, or microfiber, but they’ve been known to be wrong about how people feel. It came with their very unique territory.

Or so they’ve been told.

“What is wrong with having only one arm?” Furrowing their brows as they pondered, Metzli raised their half limb and waved it for a few moments. “It was torn off by someone else for punishment.” Another bland statement, but they didn’t give Finn much of an opportunity to react or respond before they moved in to adjust his shoulder. It was better that way. People didn’t flinch or lock up as badly when they were distracted, and Metzli hoped that Finn didn’t begin to leak once he was done with his outburst.

They’d never heard so many obscenities in one breath before. It was actually a bit impressive until Finn topped it off with a bland ‘ow’ and his body nearly going completely limp. “I am going to carry you now.” Metzli droned like a humanoid robot, slipping their arm around Finn and lifting him up without much struggle on their part. The problem with lifting someone nearly limp, with one arm was the lack of control either party had. But to Metzli’s surprise and relief, they managed to tumble both of them to their car, with only a few bumps into the door as they tried to open it. Thankfully, no one was around to see the struggle. Or so they hoped.

Focus.

“Can you put seatbelt on by yourself or do you need more help?”

Ah, fangs. Cool. At least this wasn’t a new kind of strange thing, just another vampire. Finn had dealt with that before, very unsuccessfully but still. And this one did really seem intent on helping. Tired eyes had managed to track the movement of Metzli’s arm - stump? Half-arm? - as they asked a question with a seemingly obvious answer. “It’s… well, then you don’t have two arms?” Finn answered dumbly, feeling like that should have explained it. He already felt physically useless most of the time with all appendages intact, there was no need to further his problems. After this evening, it almost sounded reasonable that someone had simply torn off Metzli’s arm. Witnessing what seemed like freaking organ harvesting and then a man impaling his own hand as an intimidation technique, it just sounded on par.

Metzli gave him warning but everything still spun as he was raised up from the ground. Finn did his best to be slightly more than just dead weight, although that just seemed to throw the vampire more off balance, but it was a short walk. He didn’t even mind his head knocking into the open door as he was discarded like a sack of potatoes into the back seat, breathing heavily from the exertion of doing basically nothing. “I got it, I got it,” he mumbled, feeling very childlike for a moment as he struggled to make the clasp stick. When it finally did, Finn sighed victoriously.

Even with the knowledge that a vampire, one that was clearly aware of the blood coating his hand, was driving the car, Finn did feel safe as they took off. “You didn’t have to do that,” he finally spoke, gaze settled on the blurry lights outside as they passed. “Probably shouldn’t have. Trying to help a stranger is what got me fucked up in the first place. Although you’re not a vulnerable bag of blood so maybe you got that going for you.”

“Yes, that is a factual statement.” Once again, they wiggled what was left of their arm with a curious tilt of their head. Finn was strange, and Metzli had a feeling it had nothing to do with any head injury or blood loss that he’d experienced. They couldn’t imagine what he was like on a typical day, but they were sure he wouldn’t be all that terrible to be around. Hopefully their judge of character wouldn’t suddenly steer them wrong.

Although, watching the way Finn struggled to put on his seatbelt and sighing like a tired little kid made the vampire feel more secure in their assessment.

Shrugging, Metzli circled around the car and took their seat, setting the car into drive to head toward the hospital. The smell of blood continued to entice them, but the conversation Finn attempted to start was enough of a distraction. Even with the mention of blood. Bags Metzli no longer felt comfortable stealing, but they were sure that wasn’t exactly Finn was referring to. Regardless, they shook their head and looked at the young man in their rear view mirror, a weight pulling their shoulders down. They’d done horrible things in the past, allowed people to die by acting on orders and standing idle when required. That Metzli was no more. Freedom allowed kindness to shine through, and the child of night would accept that warmth, and pass it on.

“I like being kind,” They finally said, seeing the hospital sign in the distance. In a matter of minutes, they’d arrive, and their job would be over. “I still bleed a little and it still hurts, but this does not matter to me.” Flashes of Teocaltiche and the neighboring states of Mexico made Metzli subtly wince, the pain they had once inflicted sending a spiky ball of guilt down their throat. Pain was inevitable and necessary, but tragedy set in motion was not, and they’d be damned if they ever began doing that again. Little by little, Metzli would redeem the monster they once were, giving as much of themself as they could for people that needed a little more help than others. And if Finn’s heroic behavior was an indicator, they were positive they’d see him again.

They’d offer help then, too.

“We are almost there.”

Metzli was interesting, in a good way. It helped that they didn’t seem too off-put by… well, anything, including the chaotic rambling from Finn, taking it in stride. He had a feeling he’d be hard pressed to spout anything that would insult them, accidental or not, which was nice for a change. Sure, the circumstances of this meeting preferably could have been less traumatic and bone crushing but bright side and fucking whatnot.

His line of questioning had caused an uncharacteristic lack of response, the silence turning his gaze to the back of Metzli’s head and then catching their gaze in the rearview mirror. Even in his current state, Finn could feel the empty space where there should have been a swirl of emotions, evidenced by the look in those eyes. Maybe a good thing he couldn’t feel it - this night had him feeling like a wrung out towel. The answer finally came and he smiled softly, leaning his head back. “Pretty solid answer,” he concluded. “The weirdo from the alley definitely could have used some pointers from you.”

Perking up at the update on their trip, Finn did indeed see the hospital looming in the distance, a sight he never thought he’d be happy to see. “I… I feel like I owe you. Like, it feels weird to not even pay you for the gas, not to mention there’s definitely some blood in your car now but I don’t know, maybe you don’t mind that… I don’t even have cash on me. Promise you’ll let me pay you back somehow?”

Whatever Finn was saying was drowned out. Showings of gratitude were unnecessary and futile, to say the least. With the wealth Metzli had accumulated from the criminals they’d killed and the genuine business side of their gallery, they didn’t need for much at all. If anything, they wanted to extend the kindness further, and they would. Metzli had paid hospital bills before, without batting an eye, and in Finn’s condition, they weren’t sure if his wallet had fallen out during his bloody scuffle. Not that it mattered. Having money or not, being attacked was enough trouble. Bills didn’t need to be added on top of that.

“We are here.”

They turned into the emergency room parking lot, quickly unbuckling themself and getting Finn out of the car. He could hardly walk, but his legs seemed to oblige as much as they could. As they led him to the sliding doors, which activated for a group of people shuffling indoors, Metzli swept him up and threw him over their shoulder, not considering how strange they’d appear walking in with an injured and bleeding individual. But was that really out of the ordinary for a hospital? Let alone one in Wicked’s Rest? It didn’t matter. They were at the front desk in the blink of an eye and Finn was quickly swept away on a wheelchair to be tended to, leaving Metzli to stare blankly and wave him goodbye.

Which was interrupted by a clipboard being shoved into their face for them to fill out. With a simple, “No.” The vampire slid their business card over to the nurse and uttered the word, “Bill,” before turning away and leaving.

#wickedswriting #writings #bloody ink #your uber is here #c: finn #finn and metzli

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zeb-z · 5 months

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Bad has so many reasons to be cautious, even paranoid, as anyone else on the island. From Federation nonsense to Dapper being kidnapped to the whole purgatory nonsense to whatever fuckass suit of armor “old friend” was setting up cameras in his house. But it compounds on his regular overly aware paranoid self to this state of hyper-paranoia. And as a demon who can and usually will lie, cheat, steal, and use sneaky underhanded tactics, he expects the craziest extent because he thinks of it, realizes it’s possible, and would use it himself. We saw this very obviously in purgatory - when he thought greens desperate last ditch effort to balance the scale was a super planned out tactic to tip the scale, so he did it first, all the hardcore base hunting, the spawn killing, there’s a reason every other tactic he used usually followed a main channel qsmp post with updated rules - all usually things he was surprised no one else thought of. But then this also piles onto the fact that he has to have things go his way, all the time, and that he’s argumentative as all get out, which led to the debate between him and Bagi yknow. Especially because he’s not just doing it for the sake of being right, he doesn’t think he’s paranoid, but that he’s exercising the right amount of caution.

So like. Listen dude. Yeah he’s got reasons to be paranoid. But his thought process around building vaults for separate cookie caches like they locked up the risus pills, only to scrap it because it’s not perfectly impenetrable, is extreme. His character has hardly been a leading example in someone who has reasonable reactions to things. And even when there isn’t his own children’s livelihoods potentially on the line, he has a need for control, and the most control he has is if he keeps the cookies in his inventory at all times. If he makes himself the sole point in which the others can get ones in a case of emergency, then he can control the variables. The problem is he’s unreliable about himself when he’s at his most rational and healthiest, and he’s far worse with the current memory and health issues he’s been mostly unaware of.

I dunno it’s like. There is never going to be a purely impenetrable base. And it’s not just a case of “Bagi just hasn’t lived through __ yet!”. Bad’s own logic about keeping the cookies on him at all times is flawed under his own logic, because Bagi is right - if someone has enough drive to break into separate secured cookie caches purely for the downfall of eggs, they more than certainly have enough drive to find a way to kill Bad and just take them from his inventory, or to just kill the eggs themselves. All it truly does is give Bad a sense of control, and soothe his paranoia.

#everyone let’s remember rurus’ tweet about bad NOT being in the blunt rotation. he would try to pluck cameras out of your eyes. and he will #make it seem like it’s the most reasonable thing to do in that moment #now this is more me complaining about shit I’ve been seeing on Twitter in the tags <3 love and peace but I’ve got beef #side note - to say the people who are commenting on qBad’s paranoia or this and that are all newcomers who just ‘weren’t there to experienc #-the dark times’ or ‘weren’t there for the egg deaths/nightmares’ like you are not immune to the way bbh can make something seem so #reasonable #he’s got his own reasons to be paranoid. and most everyone agreed that the base idea of a ‘cookie jar’ would need rethinking with security #but to say qBagi (or Jorge’s/other viewers) is shortsighted or naive. when qBad is THE definition of paranoia. of overreacting. like #qBad’s reaction extends from a mixture of care hyper paranoia and trauma response (which is half that hyper paranoia)#and he will pick and pick and pick until there’s nothing left to pick at #sometimes this is helpful. a lot of the time it’s not #and on the flip side it’s like y’all bad cares about the eggs to a ridiculous degree don’t be silly here okay. he does this because he care #even without a memory in his brain he calls them ‘little one’ and is gentle like. he cares #but at the same time this doesn’t always justify his nonsense. his thought processes. he’s Uber hyper paranoid and not easy to reason with #he’s selfish he can and will jump to extremes he’s overly controlling. and he’s the worlds most unreliable narrator #I’ve been saying this I’ll keep saying this he’s an unreliable narrator! this doesn’t make everything he says or thinks bullshit but you #cannot take what he says to himself how he justifies his actions etc etc in private at face value. unless he is making it EXPLICITLY CLEAR #he’s talking from a meta perspective as the creator of his character #you have to take his perspective with a grain of salt. because he will ‘I’m just a little guy and the world is out to get me’ his way outta #everything #there is a difference between reasonable caution from learned past experiences and overly anxious paranoid responses #idk I’m running out of steam sorry this is like a second post with the tags #and again I say this as a huge qBbh enjoyer lmao #mcyt #qsmp #q!bbh #q!bagi #z speaks

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