Fantasy Triple Trouble

[Rachary]

Earl

Reality is like a

Fruitcake.

Pretty enough to look at,

but with all sorts of

Nasty things

Lurking just beneath the

Surface.

Name: Earl Renfield
Age: a few hundred years
Gender: male
Species: Vampire

Hair color: dark brown
Eye color: white
Height: 5'10 ft
Build: slender


Duke

He gives me the

hairy eyeball

and asks me to help him find

his pancreas.

Name: Duke Greyson
Age: about 50-ish
Gender: male
Species: Werewolf

Hair color: black
Eye color: golden
Height: 6'4ft
Build: muscular

OtherEarl and Duke met about 25 years ago, when Duke, a freshly turned Werwolf and not yet able to control his instincts and hunger, attacked Earl, thinking he was a human, and therefore, prey.
However when Earl just got up again and started putting himself back together- not without telling Duke to help him find his pancreas- the vampire helped him learn to control himself.
Despite them being polar opposites of each other and constantly bickering at each other and butting heads, Earl and Duke are best friends and an inseparable team.

catburglar

 

[catburglar]

Agnes Evanora Circe Lavellan

female - appears 23 - witch - former cult member

born into a family leading one of the longest
lasting covens, the occult life was all agnes
had ever known. from rituals, to sacrifices,
to dabbling in questionable arts, she was on
the fast track to earning her title as head witch.

one ritual gone awry serves as the catalyst to her
falling out with the coven. after witnessing the
unspeakable horror, agnes went into hiding and
severed all ties with her coven. it wasn't long
before the witches deemed her a traitor and
a threat to their livelihood.

now, agnes hunts members of her former
coven in an attempt to extinguish their existence,
all the while watching her back to make sure she, too,
is not being hunted. her name in the community does not
bring forth a positive connotation; being a progeny of two
of the most powerful dark witches will raise notoriety.
her striking red hair, a lavellan trademark, is often
associated with darkness, despair, and death.

agnes has made somewhat of a name for herself,
however, as she works against her coven and all
sinister creatures. some believe she seeks ultimate
power, and others believe she has turned to the Light.

darkness, light, redemption, decline,
the line is unclear, but one thing
remains undeniably true:

the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

​

 

[Rachary]

In the middle of nowhere, along a quiet stretch of road, the diner dreamt of the hungry dead. And of two men. Earl bounced in his seat as the pick- up quaked. His beer slipped and landed in the footwalk, staining the already not-so-pretty floor mat and his suede shoes. “Hell, Duke, do you have to hit every hole in the road?”
Duke shrugged and offered a mumbled apology.
The rusty gray truck bounced down the dusty road, more of a dirt trail really. Worn shocks were helpless against the rocky, hole-ridden roadway, and with each jolt, the engine rattled as if it was about to break right through the bonnet. The player didn’t work; something they had learned at the cost of a Micheal Jackson CD.
The vehicle was an unlikely means of transport for the Earl of Vampires and the Duke of Werewolves, but for a vampire who happened to be named Earl and a werewolf who liked to be called Duke, it was perfectly fine.
"How are we doing on gas?"
Duke glanced at the fuel gauge. It trembled on empty. “Shit.”

"Next chance we get, we should get some new tires, too.” “nah the Tires are fine.” “That one’s ready to blow.” “No it isn't.” “What do you know about tires?” “I know it isn't going to blow.” “Fine, but when it does, you’re changing it.” “Fine.”
Finally, a beacon of shimmering neon light pierced the dark. It was a ten-foot sign beside a bunker of concrete.
24 HOURS DINER.
Duke pulled over. “I’m hungry-" The werewolf stopped to sniff the air. “what?” Earl asked. “Nothing...” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, the tiny hairs on his neck and on his arms standing up on end.“Thought I smelled something...” “What?” “undead.” “Where would undead come from here in the middle of nowhere?” “Over there.” Duke pointed his thumb over his shoulder as he entered the diner. As if on cue, the dust raised by the pickup’s arrival settled, revealing a small cemetery.

The overhead lights hummed obnoxiously. Two cheap desert landscapes hung by the bathrooms. A potted fern hung from a support column. The most eye-catching detail was a brownish red stain, about a foot long, at the base of the column. A normal person wouldn’t give it much thought, mistaking it for rust or mildew, but both Earl and Duke had sensitive noses. It smelled like blood.
A voice came from the back. “Be right with you.”
They found seats at the counter.
"Your Shadow is gone again", Duke pointed out.
Earl glanced at the floor. His shadow was indeed gone again, as almost always. He hated it. He just knew that wherever it went, it was having a better time than him. And when it was in its rightful place, it had a tendency to move around against his will, taunting him and making a general nuisance of itself. Of all the problems of the undead the shadow was perhaps the most trivial, yet the most annoying. Knowing how much it bothered Earl, Duke cracked a smile.

The kitchen doors swung open, and a tall, plump woman shuffled into the front. She wore a T-shirt and jeans cut- offs that hugged her jiggling behind, but only barely. “Morning, boys. What can I get you?” Duke fished deep into his pockets and dropped a handful of crumpled bills and eighty-three cents in change. “what can I get for this?”
“Grilled cheese sandwich, some fries and a Coke.” He nodded. “nothing for me, thanks,” Earl said when the waitress turned her head to look at him.
She disappeared into the back, but soon, her head peeked through the rectangular window that allowed a glimpse into the kitchen.
“You boys didn’t see anything strange on your way in, did you?” Earl raised one eyebrow in suspicion, immediately thinking of how Duke had pointed out smelling undead around. “Strange like what?”
“nothing. You’d know it if you saw it. "

 

[catburglar]

"Could you be any more specific about this?"
Yes, but it is far too amusing to watch you lose your nerve.
"We'll see how amusing you think it'll be when I clip your wings and feed you to the strays," Agnes grumbled as she pressed on the acceleration pedal with urgency. The expected diner was pulling into sight and, somehow, it just pissed her off more.
You love me too much.
Her idiot familiar, the raven perched on the passenger seat of the car, had tipped her off about Celeste's attempt to - quite literally - raise a bit of Hell in the middle of Nowheresville, Minnesota. He hadn't been able to gather more information than that, but it had been enough to have her packing up and heading over. Celeste was a relatively low-ranking witch in the coven, reckless, and far-too ambitious for her skill-set which made her more dangerous than the lot of them. She hadn't known her long, but she'd heard enough about the blonde to know not to expect accuracy and efficiency. Her blue 1997 Buick Park Avenue, however, wasn't doing the greatest job closing the distance between where she was and where she needed to be fast enough. She guessed that was what she got for stealing a deadbeat car from some unsuspecting stranger; karma had a funny way of working her magic.
Agnes was quick to get out of her car when she was finally parked. She kept her door open for Alvah, the raven, to swoop out and take off. He never did stick around for the action. The coward. She took a few moments to scout the surroundings, more precisely the cemetery, far too quiet for her liking. "What do you have planned, Celeste?" She muttered under her breath as she closed her door and made her way inside. Everything was just too silent. As shit as she was at reading people and understanding the subtleties of human speech and behaviour, she could practically smell a bad event miles before it happened.
Inside the diner were just these two men and a gorgeous waitress. If only the circumstances had been different. Agnes heaved a sigh and walked forward, one hand on her hip. "I really hate to do this, but I don't recommend any of you stick around. Trouble's about to come knocking."
The brunette was quick to the rebuttal. Her hostility in place of confusion rang suspicious, but she ignored it. "Who do you think you are to come in and make such a bold statement?"
Agnes bit her lip, looked between the two men and the woman, sizing them up in case she needed to handle them, too. "Someone who doesn't want more work than she already has."
"Who are you?" It was a threat.
"Someone you should listen to-"
A piercing shriek erupted from the depths of the cemetery and Agnes groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation. "Ah, hell." She turned on her heel and started making her way out of the diner. "Lock this place up and don't come out until I tell you to." She'd given them the heads up, so anything that happened after wasn't in her hands. This was all happening way quicker than she'd anticipated.
Outside the diner, an angry mob of miscellaneous baddies was emerging from the cemetery and heading straight for the lone diner. From what she could tell there were a few zombies, a scraggly, used-to-be-dead weremutt, and one mean-looking Wendigo she suspected was the most of her concerns. Nothing she hadn't dealt with individually before, but the numbers were worrying, and unpromising. "Alright, you dead freaks," She muttered, walking toward the herd, knowing she needed to find a way to kill them, regardless. "Come at me."

 

[Rachary]

Duke was chewing around on a piece of grilled cheese sandwich that could have been made of concrete and rubber as well, in passing planning with Earl where the vampire could go and hunt.
Earl had very specific preferences in terms of blood.
Some would say he was a little picky, but he would just reply that the little things in life were just as important as the whole.
Sometimes he really sounded like a bargain bin self-help guidebook.
"Y'know, you could lower your Standards", Duke stated, his speech muffled by the lump of gummy cheese in his mouth.
"Lower my standards, I don't even think of that. Why should I?"
"you rather travel for miles just to find your favorite blood."
"Exactly. It's worth it."
"That's for sure why you keep complainin'."
"I'm not complaining, I'm stating facts."
"...complainin'."
Earl rolled his eyes at the werewolf's utterly deadpan expression, excepting that one raised eyebrow.
The 'you-are-an-idiot'-look.
He contemplated a few possible counters, but lastly settled for a simple "you may place your lips on my posterior and kiss it repeatedly."
Duke however didn't seem offended, but amused.
Earl always tried to be classy and ended up sounding ridiculous;
Nonetheless, no one could deny the vampire was a swell.

Their bickering was interrupted when suddenly a fiery-haired, young woman entered the diner and didn't lose a second to make herself appear like
A, a bomb planter
B, a whacko
Or C, drunk.
The vampire and the werewolf gave each other a quizzical look, apparently nonverbally contemplating which option was the correct one.
A bomb was nothing they have to worry about, and none of them could hear something ticking, she didn't smell like alcohol... So it most likely had to be option number two.
Oh well there were stranger things than that to be expected here in the middle of nowhere.
They didn't bother worry, at least until a screech emerged from the cemetery that made both of them flinch and cover their sensitive ears.

The girl disappeared outside as suddenly as she had come in, leaving nothing but a few obnoxious commands.
The smell of undead got worse.
"Earl?"
"Yup."
"I don't think she's a normal human."
After all, a normal human wouldn't run to fight a crowd of zombies, the scenery unfolding for them to watch perfectly through the stain-adorned shop windows.
"Yup."
Both watched for a little longer, roughly counting their numbers.
"Earl?"
"Yup."
"I told you I smelled undead."
"Yup."
It wasn't like they were scared; they both already were technically dead, so a zombie bite wouldn't do more than hurt a little, but why should they bother if someone else would handle the situation for them?
Their numbers, however, were agonizing, minding that whatever they girl was was standing against them alone.
"Earl?"
"Yup."
"Lets re-kill some sons of bitches."

The doors of the diner were smashed open for Duke and Earl to enter the scene.
While the vampire took on the wendigo, some zombies were suddenly mowed down by a hairy beast.
Its long, wet tongue was hanging out of the agonizingly sharp-fanged abyss of his throat when it collided with the were-mutt, a tornado of claws and fangs like butcher knives.
A group of zombies was still approaching while the wendigo screeched frustratedly upon Earl ripping out its left leg-
The sight of a half rotten wendigo trying to keep up by hopping on its one remaining leg was a sight that made the vampire grin in sheer entertainment.
"Duke, look at that!"
"I'm busy!"

 

[catburglar]

When the two men emerged from the diner, and just as quickly disappeared, Agnes felt as though she'd gotten whiplash. Soon enough her attention was brought back to the herd of baddies and, to her surprised, a live weremutt and a vampire were fighting off the undead, working together. She wouldn't have believed it had she not seen it.

The surprise faded, and the reality of the situation sank in as she ran toward the zombies. It was morbid to think that these were once real, probably honest people, and now they would become less than nothing. She curled her hand into a fist for a few seconds before extending her arm in front of her and releasing a fireball. It shot straight toward the herd and emitted a small explosion when it came in contact with the undead. Gargled groans laced with the sound of crisping flesh as those within the vicinity burst into flames.

Agnes had never understood the concept of cemeteries other than their utility in certain rituals, so pulling a head stone from the ground and hurling it at a few zombies closing in wasn't all that disconcerting. Her telekinetic capabilities were easily exhausted if overused, and she had drastically underestimated the weight of a headstone. She huffed a short exhale and continued closing in on the remaining undead. The unlikely duo seemed to be handling themselves well, and there didn't seem to be all that many inconveniences left.

Speaking of, she reached down and grabbed the switchblade tucked carefully in her boot and freed the blade. The sound of the weapon clicking into place was music to her ears, and she didn't waste time raising her arm and driving the blade into the zombie's skull. She kicked the the falling body away as she yanked the blade out, only to turn around and offer the same treatment to another. Zombies were way overrated, far easily to out-maneuver than the movies implied.

Eventually, the silence returned. Agnes took a few moments to catch her breath, the stench of rotting brain, burnt flesh, and moldy clothes just a tad disgusting. Her own hands and body were stained, her shoes ruined, and her hair in dire need of multiple treatments. "Gross," She muttered as she flicked a morsel of brain off her arm.

Once recollected, she focused her attention on the mutt and vampire, unsure whether to be thankful or suspicious. Regardless, she made her way over to them without seeming too worried. Something told her if they would've wanted her dead, she probably would be already. She wasn't equipped to probably handle either of them, let alone both. "So, should I be concerned that two mortal enemies aren't trying to kill each other?"

 

[Rachary]

Both Duke and Earl looked up in surprise when the girl suddenly creates a fireball out of nothing and fried a good amount of zombies, before she crushed another few under a tombstone and killed the rest with a knife. Or, well, re-killed them.
The line between life and death was kinda wonky for those who tiptoed it.
Though, her fighting skills weren't what made them stare at her in surprise.
She had just created for from nothing.
Lifted a tombstone with the power of her mind.
Humans didn't do that.
A witch, they realized soon.

The fight was over pretty quickly with the three of them uniting their powers, and they all had made it out fairly well.
The girl looked a little splattered with intestines and brain, Earl was completely drenched with black wendigo blood and Duke was missing a finger.
He wiggled with the stump, frowning annoyedly.
"Duke." The vampire handed him the missing part of his finger.
"Oh, thanks."

When the witch approached them, Duke was busy trying to jigsaw the parts of his finger back together, while Earl at least tried to wipe some of the black blood off his ashen face.
It was a grotesque sight.
"Oh he did try to kill me", the vampire stated, pointing at the werewolf with a reproachfully raised eyebrow.
Dukes answer was a hit against his shoulder that sent Earl stumbling to the side. "Dammit, Duke!"
The werewolf just grinned nonchalantly when his friend elbowed him in the side.
Although their bickering was gruff and all but careful or gentle, their little fight shed a pretty clear light on their relationship- they were like brothers, competing with each other in almost everything they did, but never meaning it too seriously.

"How did you know that shot was gonna go down here?", Duke asked, his eyes narrowing in distrust as his golden gaze bored into hers.
He wasn't someone who wasted much time on formalities; he got to the point without beating around the bush.
Earl was a little more tactful.
He gave the werewolf another glare before he turned to look at the witch in front of them.
"Excuse him, he's as polite as a shotgun", he said, frowning slightly when Duke's only comment was a raised middle finger.
"As long as we don't need to worry about your intentions, you don't have to worry about ours either. We're just on a road trip. Oh eh, I'm Earl, he's Duke."
"No stage names", Duke commented, his laughter ringing like churchbells. "This old geezer helped me out when I was freshly turned."
"I never got rid of him since."
"Awww you don't wanna get rid of me, Snowwhite."
"Shut up, fleabag."
"I don't have fleas!"

 

[catburglar]

Agnes could only watch with a raised brow the interaction unfolding between the to men. She could only imagine what the pair must be like out on the road; neither seemed like the type to stay quiet for long, especially the werewolf.

Then, the focus turned to her and Agnes heaved a sigh. She expected the interrogation, so it didn't come as a surprise. It didn't occur to her that Duke's tone could have been vexing until Earl - what a pair of names - reiterated his words more nicely. As curious as se was as to be a vampire willingly chose to help a werewolf adapt to its new physiology, or even knew how, she didn't want to be standing in this filth longer than she needed to.

"I'm tracking someone, and a little bird told me she'd be up to one of her theatrics again. I guess I owe you a thanks for not being totally useless. So, uh, thanks." She said, looking between the two of them and gestured toward the diner. "Maybe we should go check up on our damsel and clean up. I could use something to eat, too, I'm starving," With that, she turned and started heading back.

"How long have you two been travelling together?" Small talk was infinitely better than walking in awkward silence , and Agnes wasn't comfortable enough to turn her back to them for too long. As far as she was concerned, they could have ulterior motives, or intentions that would hinder he own. "Is the pickup yours?"