Off To Wonderland (Open)

[Aiden Devereaux]

The day had brought warmth and humidity to the city. Despite the heat and obnoxious glowing, Aiden wore a thick, long coat. It was grey and patchy, as though it was something resurrected from the 80’s. A top his head he donned a fedora that he had begun to favor. No matter that its thick red strap was kickass. One hand held his lit cigarette close by for another drag at any second, while the second remained buried deep in the coat pocket, fondling the wad of cash hidden within. A wad of cash he had to procure in a very difficult manner. Nonetheless, he had managed.

With a grimace, he shifted the weight of his seated position on a stone bench, his waist holster digging into his side. It was a terrible choice for the amount of sitting he had been doing. It had been his dumb decision to come so early. But even as the sun slowly sank below the horizon, causing most of the city buildings to glow in an odd fashion, he knew his time was not much longer.

Even as he sat and debating the subject, silently to himself, a dark figure made their way down the path toward him. Sighing with relief, he stood and took a large drag from the cigarette, watching. People had nearly cleared out, having gone home a long while ago for dinner or whatever other nighttime events were taking place. Hell, he had secretly been hoping a prostitute would find her way to him. Did this city even have any? Of course, it had to. Every city did. It didn’t matter, in the end he would wind up going to a club, work some magic talk to some young broad and wind up going back to her place. Of course, a good amount of alcohol helped in that play.

“My ass is numb because of you. Got it?” He grumbled out before taking another drag.

The man shook his head, seemingly with disappointment, before responding and shoving a bag at Aiden. “Yeah man. And I said sundown. I ain’t having no Po-Po on my ass for your demand.” Aiden grabbed the bag but not before shoving the wad of cash at the man.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll call you when I need another round.” Before he had finished the sentence he was already walking in the opposite direction, ignoring the stream of rude gestures his seller threw at him. It wasn’t long before Aiden had found a quiet portion of brush to stand in and suspiciously roll his loot. It took less time to light it and feverishly inhale it. Tonight, he would sleep and not be plagued by nightmares. Nightmares that had kept him awake for the last five nights. Nightmares that marked the anniversary of his hell on earth life. Silently, he rubbed the pendants of each necklace he wore, mindless to the action.

[Elijah Kuhn]

New York was a nice enough place. Lots of people. People were everywhere, all the time. The only times that you could find yourself alone were when you'd taken yourself where you ought not be. His mama had always told him about those places. She told him that if he ever found himself in a place without people, that he was to high tail it out of there. Bad things happened to people who stuck their noses where they didn't belong.

Of course, Elijah had always been the most rebellious of his family. When his brother died, that rebellion got worse. He entered his first barren area. And, of course, his mama's warning rang terribly true. He was abducted and turned into a werewolf by a cult.

He did resent them. The only thing that had kept his particularly bestial mind from tearing every member of the cult up was his mama's words. "Don't you let me find out about you killing anybody, Elijah, boy. Now you listen to me. If you kill anybody, you're going to Hell, where everybody dies every day. Does that sound like a fun place to be, boy?" He would always comply and say, "No, Mama."

Now, he was strolling along in a park, minding his own business. Elijah wanted to be out in the woods or something. Somewhere he knew that he'd never be angered to the point of changing on someone who had done nothing wrong to him. However, it wasn't to be. He felt compelled to stay in the huge city. There was something that drew him to it. He needed to find out what that thing was and he'd be done with it. He wouldn't have to worry about New York anymore and he could move on.

He noticed the man standing in the bushes. He could smell the thing that was in his hand. It was disgusting. Elijah stepped towards him, tempted to smack it out of his hands. "You do know that what you've got in your mouth right now will kill you eventually, right?" He couldn't help the drawl of the South as it spilled from his mouth. Most of the Yankees up here had trouble understanding him. He hoped this man could listen long enough to figure out what he was saying.

[Aiden Devereaux]

Closing his eyes, Aiden enjoyed every taste and cancer filled drag. For one long minute, he held the smoke in his lungs and released it in a coughing jag. But boy did it bring a smile to his face. Lifting his hand once more, he instantly had contact with a force and the blunt was lost. “What the-?!” Eyes snapping open, he searched out the culprit only to rest on a coco man. “Seriously buddy?” Frowning he quickly recovered the precious object from the ground.

Lucky for Aiden he had spent time in the south, but this man’s drawl was deep and definitely organic. Furrowing his brows, Aiden gingerly brushed off his prize. “I can only be so lucky if it does.” The cherry had died and Aiden couldn’t help but offer a silent prayer of thanks in his mind. This had to be the first time he ever had anyone physically smack something from his hand. It was baffling and he was strangely mixed with emotion of how to react appropriately. “You realize that some people actually require this medically? For all you know, my life could depend on it.” He shook the remaining portion of the blunt into the air, showing it.

“And do you honestly walk around a park and sneak up on people in your free time? I have to say man, creepy.” But even as he stood by the newcomer, his skin reacted. Reacted in a way he hadn’t felt in years. It took everything he had to hold his head up and keep eye contact. Eye contact with black orbs that seem to fall into oblivion, surrounded by red blood veins. Blood shot that he swore were demonic. A shudder coursed through his body and naturally he took a step back from the man. Why the hell did he choose to smoke outside?

What was it about the man that made him uneasy? One thing Aiden was sure of, he needed to be more careful. If this guy was a cop, Aiden was doomed for the big house and he didn’t spend all these years running just to get caught. It was miraculous he hadn’t been yet as it was.

[Elijah Kuhn]

A wry smile spread across his lips. People didn't need weed. They liked it. Most it could do for someone was make them hungry when they didn't want to eat. Of course it helped kill pain and help with nausea in general, but that didn't mean people needed it. Elijah shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. This man was an obvious believer in the good qualities of cannabis. But, his mama had told him all about marijuana. It's the devil's tool, she'd say. She had educated the whole family early on the dangers of most drugs.

"You are something else, did you know that?" Elijah shook his head, wiping his hand clean on his jeans. "I don't sneak up on people. Just happened to get a whiff of concentrated cancer. My mama taught me to spread the word about how that can screw you up. Besides, I highly doubt you need that for medical purposes anyway. Sm-" He coughed, trying to cover up the misspeaking. "Seem to be too healthy to need it. Judgin' from the way your eyes look, the... glossiness of your hair..."

Elijah laughed. He liked people. That was all there was to it. "Man, you ought to cut that mop. My mama'd be having a cow right now. Damn, boy. What're you growin' that out for anyway? Wanna be Miss USA? Hate to say it, boy, but I don't think you have the legs for that one," He laughed.

Slipping up. His grammar was deteriorating again. His mama would have a cow for sure if she heard him talking like he was. Elijah mentally scolded himself, the laughter still apparent on his face. There was one thing he could never allow himself to do, and that was to go back on what his mother taught him. Ever since his run in with that god-forsaken cult, he couldn't bear the thought of not heeding her warnings on everything.

The man in front of him was tall, and lean. A goatee, green eyes and a beak like nose. Elijah was a man for faces, not names, and this one would be easy to remember. Already, he had decided what he didn't like about the other man. His hair was far too long, he hid in bushes, he smoked, he called Elijah creepy, and his almost bird-like appearance. It was wrong to judge, but it came so naturally to him that he no longer tried to stop it. At least he always knew what to say when someone asked for criticism.

[Aiden Devereaux]

Even as the man spoke his reply, Aiden scowled and shoved his remaining blunt back into the coat pocket with the rest of its brethren. “Uh huh.” Was the only reply he voiced as the man explained himself. But at the mention of a ‘mama’, a brow arched in curiosity. “Your ‘mama’,” he mimicked the man’s voice. “and I seemingly need to have a good ol’ conversation. Maybe she can whip me into some shape, eh?” He knew how southerners worked. Big families and tended to be headed my matriarchs. No doubt in his mind this man’s mother had been a big role model to him.

“You are right. I don’t need it for my health.” His shoulders lazy rolled into a shrug. “More like a sleep thing.” But he bit his tongue before he said much else. There was no need for this man to know his business. It was bad enough he already learned some of it. Briskly, he pointed a finger at him. “And I know you’re not dissing the hair. Nor the legs. I think I have a fine pair. Mile high and angled just right, thank you sir.” The smirk appeared before he realized it. It had been so long since he last BSed with someone, nonetheless a stranger who caught him in illicit activity.

But the jesting allowed him to veer away from the topic of his hair. He hated it this long. It wasn’t him. But that was the point. It was a guise he needed to hold onto until his name was cleared. But that would never happen would it? Instead of mentally stabbing himself over and over as he had many times in the past, he went back to concentrating on what was before him.

“Say. You’re not some goody catholic boy that’s going to run off to the Bacon with me in tow are you?” His eyes narrowed questioningly, a single brow arched. “It would be a shame if you did, seeing as how I think we have something decent going on here. I’d even offer you a slice, but that seems that it would be more of an insult than anything… And I would much rather stay on your good side…” Also due to the fact he was scary as hell. Sure, the guy put up a good front, even approachable. But he had more muscle and something in his eyes said he wouldn’t take crap if it came at him.

Aiden never would either. But he had to play careful and not have eyes landing on him. It was unfortunate but if caught in a situation, he had to choose flight before fight. Besides, it was the coward he was. It seemed all he ever did was run.

[Elijah Kuhn]

"I don't know about any Bacon, but I don't plan on turning you in to the police. How could I expect you to change your ways if I sent you to jail right after?" Elijah flattened his tie against his black and white sweater. Everything about his person was formal today. It was all perfectly ironed, and the whites were still very white. Elijah's wide rimmed glasses had fallen down his nose a bit and he pushed them back up in a quick, smooth movement.

He knew the other man was likely to continue smoking. They usually did, no matter who intervened. Elijah was just lucky the other man hadn't gotten angry with him. There were few strong emotions that Elijah could handle without changing. Anger was not one of them. He found that when people got mad at him, he tended to return the favor. That made going out drinking a bit of a danger, and he hadn't done it in some time.

It was mid-day still. What could he do? Elijah cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. He shrugged and grinned. "I am no Catholic either. My mama always hated their "holier than thou" attitude. I have no denomination, makes me nicer than the rest of them, don't you think?"

"And, Miss USA, if your legs are mile high, you'd best get back to the giraffe exhibit. I'm sure they've got some sort of pageant in there for girls as pretty as you," Elijah shook his head, still smiling. The banter was welcome. It had been too long since he had done this. It had been before Adam's death, actually. Jed hadn't forgiven him for the fight yet. And, maybe it was better that he hadn't. Elijah regretted the fight every time he had a chance to think about it.

Elijah covered his eyes against the sun and looked out into the park. "Too early to go out and drink, yet. Girls might get the wrong idea, y'know. Like we don't have a job and we've just picked ourselves off of the ground to get wasted. I don't want to look like that, but," The smile got bigger as he pointedly looked the man up and down. "Looks like you don't mind if people think that."

He laughed lightheartedly. Elijah shoved his open hand towards the man. "My name is Elijah Kuhn. I live just up the road and happened to be taking a mid day walk. When you ruined it with your cancer stick. I think you owe me a wholehearted apology, sir."

[Aiden Devereaux]

It took all that he had not to sigh in relief. He was safe, for another day at least. Hell, he may even kiss than man. Or not. Momentarily, he eyed the man before him. Over dressed for the occasion and glasses. He reminded him of a librarian in a way. How was it he felt so small compared to him? An answer he may very well never know.

A wide smile graced Aiden’s expression, and even kept root. “Good. That does make you nicer and me like you a hell of a lot better.” The banter continued on and Aiden was actually enjoying himself. He kept to himself, holding onto any comments about the legs. Honestly, he probably had scary furry legs and stayed far away from shorts. But the jest had been a pleasant icebreaker.

In the next moment, the man made a point, though it never stopped Aiden before. He was jobless. Well, to a normal person he was. But those weren’t things he was about to publicly announce, especially to a stranger. Another smile took hold and it was as though Aiden was possessed and couldn’t help himself. His own hand connected with Elijah’s giving a brief but firm shake. “Well, nice to meet you Elijah, son of Mama gold tongue. I find I have a respect for this mother of yours. I’m Aiden.” Disconnecting their hands, he shouldered the coat off after gripping the items in his pockets. Underneath he had another coat, this one black and slightly longer than his waist. Shoving the loot into the new pockets the old coat fell to the ground.

“I have my layers, Eli. Besides,” he stretched his back and grunted before stepping away from the fallen coat. “No idea where it’s from. Anyways!” Quickly, he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I did ruin your day, didn’t I? Well I do owe you, I admit that much. I am deeply sorry and appalled by my actions. I would offer a drink, but hey, if you want to watch that precious reputation of yours, let me at least buy you lunch. Nothing wrong with a couple hard earning guys taking a break for some lunch at the local café, eh?”

Lightly he nudged Elijah with his elbow, grinning like a buffoon. As he did it. Instantly he sobered. “And I promise to behave myself.” The stern look didn’t last long before he smiled again.

[Elijah Kuhn]

Elijah set his jaw. Aiden was the man's name. He had called him Eli. Elijah shook his head and put his finger up. "My name is Elijah, not Eli," He said shortly. He shrugged his shoulders back and rubbed his head, a nervous habit of his. "Right, but sure. I can pay for my own lunch, mind you. I don't have any problem doing that. Ah, do you know of anywhere particularly good?"

Elijah lived nearby. But, he rarely left his apartment. Humans were unpredictable creatures. The last thing he wanted to do was get pissed off by a passerby and let the beast loose. He didn't like being the beast. There were many things he hated about it. It hurt changing into it. A whole body pain, nothing was allowed the freedom from pain. It made him more angry, more willing to kill things. It wasn't him. Elijah wasn't a killer. But, the longer he lived as what he was now, he realized that he was feeling more and more desensitized to it.

He glanced at a nearby hotdog stand. He could smell the hotdogs. The condiments too. Ketchup had a distinct scent, as did mustard. Relish and onions too, and he could tell what each scent was now. Unlike before, the scents were distinct rather than a soup of different, similar smells. He kind of liked being able to determine the separate scents from each other. It made him feel like some sort of messed up super hero.

Elijah jabbed his finger in the direction of the stand. "We could go just over there and get a hot dog. Get to stay outside and there's benches all over this place. I love fresh air, so my vote is for the hot dog stand. Also, my wallet loves hotdogs." He grinned crookedly. It was the truth, but it was also obvious that Aiden's wallet would appreciate the choice. "And, get this. You behave well enough, and I may let you stay at my place tonight. Figure a pretty woman like you shouldn't be left out on the streets to defend herself from the horrors of New York."

[Aiden Devereaux]

Instantly Aiden through his hands up in peace. Elijah it was then. Whatever the man’s reasons, Aiden had no interest in annoying him. A finger crooked at his chin in thought. He was knew to the city and still hadn’t really explored much. He only happened to have a phone number to a dealer in the area from another dealer. Always a tricky thing but when you were on the run, you had few choices. And beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Luckily his companion made a suggestion. Nodding, Aiden liked the reasons. Outside was easier to run if need be. Outside meant less chance his face had of popping up on the television and someone recognizing him from across the room. Plus, hey! Fresh air! Though city scents didn’t bother him, it was more of the idea he could pretend to be someone else for a while without those scents driving old memories back at him.

A hand raced to his chest daintily and he batted his lashes rapidly. “Why, sir Elijah. You’re such a gentleman. I would be so honored for your escort.” His voice changed to mimick a meek woman. Just as quickly, it was back to normal. “And don’t you worry about your wallet. Think of this as an extension of my apology as well as gratitude for your hospitality,” An earnest smile of appreciation touched him. “Shall we?” He began the steps to the direction Elijah had pointed. “So. Is it often you pick up strange damsels in distress off the street?”

Silently, his hand fumbled the loot in his pocket. Now he was glad he had smoked some when he did. Though the effects would be more than worn off by tonight, it still left him tired and the more tired he was, the easier he would get to sleep. Maybe he would be able to manage a couple hours before the nightmares hit. And he knew they would. His day was going by surprisingly well and guilt would not let it last.

[Elijah Kuhn]

Elijah grinned. Aiden didn't press the name issue, and he was pleased about that. He always liked people better when they just accepted his name as Elijah rather than Eli or whatever other nick names they wanted to peg him with. He watched as Aiden walked out of the bush, raising an eyebrow at the coat that he had left behind. Though he thought it was a waste, Elijah didn't say anything about it. It probably smelled like weed. No one would want that. He sniffed loudly, trying to tell if it stank of the marijuana. It did.

Elijah didn't make an effort to hide the sniff, however. That could easily be passed off as him just sniffing about for the hotdogs. He walked behind Aiden before quickening his pace to come up on his right side. It was extremely nice of Aiden, buying his lunch. Of course, it wasn't filling. No food was filling any more. That is, no normal food. Inside, he knew what he did. But, he wouldn't admit it to himself.

The only time that Elijah ever felt particularly full and healthy was after he'd killed someone. But... He didn't just kill the people. He ate them. It was something that he just couldn't control. As a beast, he knew that he needed that sustenance. He needed to eat those people. As a person, he put the images from his mind. That was the last thing that Elijah wanted to remember. When those memories got too strong, he drank until he couldn't move.

"Hey, I'll take a plain hotdog and a water," Elijah said to the vendor and then nodded towards Aiden, signalling that he was next. He stood aside from the stand. The man was a smoker. He could smell it. And, not to mention, he needed to shower badly. "Aiden, it's all in a days work. I pick up anybody who looks like they could use a bit of Southern Hospitality. It's awful cold and mean up here in the north, so I figure everyone needs it."