Thread: Bats in Broom Closets

Mickel awoke in darkness. Disorientation had him wondering where the fuck he was but the space was cramped enough to let him know that he'd changed back in the night. A musty smell pervaded the space, like damp hay and dust but he was warm at least, despite being naked. Feeling groggy, he sat up slowly and put a hand to his head, instantly hissing as pain flared around his left eye. Gently touching it again, the skin was soft and sensitive, his cheekbone feeling like it'd taken the brunt of the impact but nothing felt severely damaged. That was when he remembered the Mdchen and her broom. That wasn't what gave him the bruise - she actually hit him in the arm and the side with the bristles - but still it was enough to get him to wake up fully and force himself to start thinking critically about the situation. Getting onto his knees, Mickel opened the closet a crack and peeked into the hall, morning light falling in to illuminate a strip of pale, tattooed skin and a single gray-blue eye. Breathing deeply, the new scents of the Mdchen invading this old house were most prominent and his nose wrinkled as he listened to the sounds of her bustling around in wakefulness. Gently, he pulled the door shut once more and sat back on his haunches, leaning his head against the wall. Grovater was gonna kill him. It was bad enough he'd gotten into a fight with a couple guys from one of the other families but now he was stuck in here with their secret minutes away from being discovered. Hm, and wasn't it just 2 days ago that he'd gotten yelled at for his rash behavior? Good thing he hadn't made any promises to do better or else have his privileges revoked. ...oh, wait. Rubbing a hand through his short dark hair, Mickel puffed out his slender cheeks and let out an even breath in resignation, once again trying to figure out the best course of action to avoid discovery of his family's secret. He couldn't change back yet because he was still messed up from last night, so he decided to just wait until she left the house for the day. Hopefully, that would be soon so he wasn't left waiting in here forever. It wasn't like luck to ever be on his side, though, and Fate decided to kick him while he was down by leading the Mdchen back to his hiding spot. Slowly, warily, he stood up in the small space, inching away from the door as it opened, holding himself perfectly still as it closed again, wrapping the both of them in darkness. He could see her clearly in the gloom, her face fearful yet determined merely a foot or two away from his own and her scent filled his lungs with the luscious odor of feminine, sweat-stained sleep and some sort of meat on her breath. Dizzy and confused, he realized she still thought he was a bat and as she reached up to the string dangling from the bulb on the ceiling, he desperately, anxiously tried to force himself to change back. There was a flicker of power from within, but he was too distraught to get it to work before the light clicked on, brightness filling the space and flooding her face with surprise. Heh, Mickel started to smile awkwardly before the pot in her hands collided at high speed against his head and she ran from the closet screaming. Ahk! Mickel shouted, holding his hands to his head and hissing in agony. Bitte, nur eine Sekunde lang warten! Ich kann erlutern gibt es keine Notwendigkeit sich aufzuregen! When the pain subsided, he was at the door but it was jammed shut somehow and he could hear her shouting something at him from the other side. What? Was that English ? Standing in the lighted space, he sighed and bit his lip, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure this out. What the fuck could he say? 'Hi, my name is Mickel and sometimes I change into animals. Please don't tell anybody and have a nice day?' Seriously. He was going to die because Grovater was going to fucking kill him when he learned about this. Hey, um, Frulein, I am sorry I have scared you, he said hesitantly through the door in heavy accented English. Looking down at the ground, he realized she had dropped a cloth of some sort and he picked it up, wrapping it around his slender waist to cover himself. It was a bed sheet, paisley floral pattern and faded with age, the demure color looking bright against his pale skin. From where he tied it on his hips, a couple of his tattoos peeked above the cloth just below his abdomen. Knocking lightly on the door he laughed a little in his throat and said, There is misunderstanding only! I have covered so we can maybe talk about this decently, ja? It was important to get her calmed down. He had an obligation to his family to keep their skills hidden and although it wasn't his intent to do her harm, he couldn't allow her to tell anyone else about what he was or what she thought was happening. If he couldn't get her to stop panicking or eliminate the risk she posed, he would be forced to deal with it permanently. Not that he had any qualms about it when it came to self-preservation but he sympathized with the situation being partly his fault. I am not frightening. I just want to talk.