2224: Howl – Chapter 5

Title: Howl
Author: naturally morbid
Media: Film
Topic: Die Hard
Genre: Supernatural / Romance / Holiday Cheer
URL: Chapter 5
Critiqued by BatJamags (BadJamags and GoodJamags)

Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count: 59

On the Eleventh Day of Sithmas, the Library gave to me…
Eleven dooters dooting,
Ten sharks a-jumping,
Nine edgelords edging,
Eight reincarnating idiots,
Seven Dakwraiths brewing,
Six tranquilizings,
FIVE! IGUANODON! COOKIES!
Four key lime pies,
The third moon of Jupiter,
Two talking raptors,
And porno music on the intercom!

On the Twelfth Day of Sithmas, the Library gave to me…
Twelve ninjas buttering,
Eleven dooters dooting,
Ten sharks a-jumping,
Nine edgelords edging,
Eight reincarnating idiots,
Seven Darkwraiths brewing,
Six tranquilizings,
FIVE! IGUANODON! COOKIES!
Four key lime pies,
The third moon of Jupiter,
Two talking raptors,
And porno music on the intercom!

Hello once again, patrons! I’m your host, BatJamags…

GoodJamags: … And I’m your guest host, GoodJamags…

… And we’re back with the final installment of Howl! Let’s dive right in, shall we?

Author’s Note: Finally back with another installment.

We noticed.

However, I am sorry it is so short!

We’re not.

School is pretty much just kicking my butt right now, along with some changes at work and stuff.

Don’t care.

I will keep working on it though.

Obviously not.

Thank you so much for all the support and I hope you enjoy this latest part!

We won’t.

GoodJamags: Line break!

 

Howl

GoodJamags: My god…

What is it?

GoodJamags: I just figured something out.

Yeah?

GoodJamags: That…

GoodJamags: Is…

GoodJamags: STILL THE TITLE OF THE FIC!

Chapter Five: Family Ties

I prefer family victories myself.

Redell’s Guidebook:

Aw, motherfucker. I keep forgetting about these. Probably because they accomplish literally jack shit.

The older you grow as a werewolf, the more you have to try and blend in, learn the new customs of the time, not stand out so much.

GoodJamags: You’d think the amount of effort required would kind of plateau once you got to a certain point past your normal lifespan.

That is what our race is about.

Not turning into wolf monsters and eating people? Weird.

Keeping well under the radar.

GoodJamags: Aw, but I love the radar!

GoodJamags: And maybe the eighth or ninth listen-through of this song in the last couple days will get it unstuck from my head.

I once knew a werewolf who stood out so much that he was constantly being arrested or ending up on the latest less than desirable publications.

Of course, you’re not going to say anything else about the guy, which makes this tangent, much like the rest of these useless fucking guidebook sections, COMPLETELY GODDAMN POINTLESS.

Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count: 60

It was a thrill.

GoodJamags: I bet he could thrill you more than any ghost would ever dare try.

Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count: 61

Me, I just like learning new things. The identity I’ve created is that of an eager young student. Get’s me around pretty well, keeps me out of trouble.

Except what happens when you graduate? Or do you forge up a new identity just to go to a new school in a different place every time? I feel like that would only work for so long before somebody would notice. I figure you’d do better just kind of drifting from place to place doing minimum wage kind of stuff, but never for long enough for someone to notice you’re not aging.

Also make sure that you can find someone to forge identity papers for you every now and again. I usually like to have friends in high places. If you look closely, you’ll be surprised probably at the number of werewolves that turn up in all branches of everything.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines “paragraph” as “A distinct section of a piece of writing, usually dealing with a single theme and indicated by a new line, indentation, or numbering.” In other words, you should probably be able to finish a paragraph without changing the fucking subject to something completely goddamn unrelated.

GoodJamags: To be fair, judging by the Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count, this author has trouble finishing a paragraph, period.

Mysterious deaths of famous people, ordinary people, the ones that lack death pictures floating around, might just be a werewolf. I once came across a werewolf who swore up and down that Elvis was roving around the desert these days as a werewolf. Don’t think about it too hard.

Yeah, fic?

Early Elvis

Elvis Presley, 1954

Late Elvis.jpg

Elvis Presley, 1970

The dude aged. I’m going to go out a limb and guess he wasn’t secretly an immortal werewolf.

GoodJamags: I think you’re thinking about it too hard.

Very Late Elvis.jpg

I’m pretty sure he’s dead.

Like, Wikipedia says there was even a bunch of DNA testing and shit to determine how he died. Dude. Is. Dead.

Of course, I’ve heard numerous stories about who is and who isn’t. You’ll hear them too in the right places. Maybe even start a few.

GoodJamags: Why is this important to know?

If you hear the story involving the wolf, grandma, and a girl, some of that is mine. I helped embellish it for the Grimm brothers. It is quite popular from time to time, especially among children.

Oh, great, Windbag Sue is annoying as fuck and she ate Little Red Riding Hood’s grandma.

GoodJamags: I don’t think that’s what she was getting a-

WON’T SOMEONE THINK OF THE GRANDMAS?!

GoodJamags: Actually, the story of Little Red Riding Hood can be traced back at least to the 10th Century. While it evolved over time, the bulk of the modern story comes not from the Brothers Grimm version (for which the only major modification is adding the ending in which the huntsman rescues Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother) but from a version by Charles Perrault written in the seventeenth century, which simply ended with the wolf eating LRRH. Even Perrault didn’t heavily modify his source material, though. As for “embellishment,” here’s what Wikipedia has to say about the pre-Perrault folklore (emphasis mine):

The antagonist is not always a wolf, but sometimes an ogre, vampire, or a ‘bzou’ (werewolf), making these tales relevant to the werewolf-trials (similar to witch trials) of the time (e.g. the trial of Peter Stumpp). The wolf usually leaves the grandmother’s blood and meat for the girl to eat, who then unwittingly cannibalizes her own grandmother. Furthermore, the wolf was also known to ask her to remove her clothing and toss it into the fire. In some versions, the wolf eats the girl after she gets into bed with him, and the story ends there. In others, she sees through his disguise and tries to escape, complaining to her “grandmother” that she needs to defecate and would not wish to do so in the bed. The wolf reluctantly lets her go, tied to a piece of string so she does not get away. However, the girl slips the string over something else and runs off. In these stories she escapes with no help from any male or older female figure, instead using her own cunning, or in some versions the help of a younger boy who she happens to run into. Sometimes, though more rarely, the red hood is even non-existent.

In other tellings of the story, the wolf chases after Little Red Riding Hood. She escapes with the help of some laundresses, who spread a sheet taut over a river so she may escape. When the wolf follows Red over the bridge of cloth, the sheet is released and the wolf drowns in the river. And in another version the wolf is pushed into the fire, while he is preparing the meat of the grandmother to be eaten by the girl.

The Brothers Grimm get a lot of shit for how dark their stories were, but there were some like this that they (and Perrault before them) toned way the hell down. So basically, Windbag Sue is terrible at “embellishing” things.

Different Entry:

Fic calls the entry different even though all the entries are functionally the same thing.

GoodJamags: Namely?

Padding.

Oh yes, that movie that is making the circuits of VHS now, about the werewolf in London. Fairly accurate.

GoodJamags: “Making the circuits of VHS?” What does that even mean?

But please don’t sit at home watching it all day. No, there is no dead friend to be your guide.

wish my “guide” was dead.

Of course, if you do have one, well then maybe you should get some help already? I’m not licensed to diagnose that sort of thing.

GoodJamags: Cute.

And your nurse probably won’t love you, unless they did already.

Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count: 61

Alright, alright, shut up.

And guns won’t kill you. Not even silver.

YOU’VE SAID THAT THREE TIMES ALREADY, YOU INSUFFERABLE TWAT!

Of course, if you want to sit at home all the time and watch movies about things you already know, then feel free.

Apparently I want to sit at home all the time and read “guidebooks” about things I already know.

Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count: 62

I can’t say you’re wasting your life. I’m not your mother am I?

GoodJamags: Aw, you’re not?

At least my mother eventually gets to a point when she starts rambling.

Usually.

Sometimes.

Actually, I’m beginning to worry that this is my mother.

VHS. In my day, at the risk of sounding like your grandparents, we didn’t have such a thing.

Fire. That was our entertainment. Going to be early. Working the land. Maybe doing some sewing.

It was a long time before I learned to read and write properly. Men over the ages have been so overbearing haven’t they?

Dietrich, not matter how much older he gets, no matter how much time passes around him, still refuses to acknowledge this fact. It’s one of the reasons he wants me. The unconquered woman of the romance novels. Free spirited and all of that rubbish.

NONE OF THIS PROVIDES ANY KIND OF GUIDANCE!

That’s exactly why he can’t win. Human women depend on me to help save them. There are only a handful of female werewolves these days. It’s a simple matter of not surviving the change.

So, the Awesome McEvil can’t win because he refuses to acknowledge [ERROR: ANTECEDENT NOT FOUND], human women depend on Windbag Sue to help save them even though they don’t know she exists (nor does the average human woman need saving most of the time under normal circumstances), and there aren’t many female werewolves “these days” (Were there more before? Who the hell knows?), because they don’t survive the change because BLUE.

That’s what you just told me, author.

Not because we are weak, but because our alpha refuses to acknowledge us as a viable part of the pack. Women are usually killed right after they begin showing symptoms of the virus, before the first change, and the last time we are vulnerable.

GoodJamags: Hey, maybe mention that up front so your female readers don’t get nommed mid-book.

No, that would be guidance.

Dietrich had not meant to bite me to cure me. He was going to use it as an excuse. When I began to show symptoms of madness, he would construct an accident for my family to believe, then kill me with his bare hands the first chance he got.

Hey, if it would’ve shut you up, I’m all for it.

Instead, I faked my own death and escaped. I was lucky.

We weren’t.

Dietrich can hurt me, but I’m not sure he can kill me.

GoodJamags: You seem pretty dead certain (so to speak) that werewolves can’t be killed. Make up your mind!

Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count: 63

Different Entry:

Just got a tip from a drifter werewolf that Dietrich seems to have found something that can kill us. He seems to be testing it in some remote location of Germany now.

Well, that mystery ended quickly. You said you wanted to die, right? Now you can probably make it happen.

Werewolves in the area are disappearing and not resurfacing.

GoodJamags: If that’s all the evidence, then you don’t know they’re dying. In fact, you said earlier in this chapter that disappearing is kind of what werewolves do.

Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count: 64

I’m going to try and find out all I can so I can record it.

What happened to being pants-shittingly terrified of Dietrich McEvil?

The_life_of_an_X_is_dull_and_grim.

Hee.

GoodJamags: *Sigh*

On the plane, Hans was restless. It was a long flight, with stopovers as well. He was anxious to return to Germany, to track Adelaide down as soon as possible, so that he could assure himself that she wasn’t in too much harm.

GoodJamags: Judging by the sudden spasm of howling pain, I’m going to guess you’ll be disappointed on that front.

As he stared out into the cloud cover shielding the earth from his view, Hans felt more of Adelaide’s influence coming through the connection. He shifted uneasily in the seat, turning away from both Theo and Simon.

Also, since when have werewolves been psychic like this?

Adelaide was worried still. He couldn’t blame her. There was a deep and lasting ache in his back that was partly due to the uncomfortable seat he never could adjust to his liking and partly to whatever pain he had felt in the hotel room.

GoodJamags: So… she’s worried about airplane seats?

This author is really not great at paragraphing.

He supposed that the flesh was mending itself; or at least he hoped that was the case. He could feel the stirrings of longing growing within him. Hans just knew, like one knows that the sky is blue, that Adelaide was pining for his comfort. He was pining for hers as well.

Dude, she barely knew you and you haven’t thought about her in years.

He could tell that they were closer to Germany as the connection grew a little stronger. He could feel things slightly more potently.

GoodJamags: Aha! He could feel the things with the stuff!

“It is happening again?” Theo asked, for once, quite serious and keeping his voice as low as possible to keep from disturbing the sleeping Simon. Hans gave him a curt nod of his head as an answer.

GoodJamags: IT KEEPS HAPPENING

I TOLD YOU MAN

I TOLD YOU ABOUT WEREWOLVES

The_life_of_an_X_is_dull_and_grim.

GoodJamags: Alright, that’s the last random floating X that may or may not be a line break even though there are actual line breaks elsewhere in the fic. Are you happy now?

Very.

As they made their weary way out of the airport, Hans breathed a sigh of relief that he was mostly home, taking a deep breath of the familiar air to celebrate.

Also, to breathe.

Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count: 65

“Come to my home and we’ll rest. But I expect the full story later,” Simon told them, stifling a yawn. One of his men was waiting nearby with a car, for the nearly two hour drive from Berlin Tegel Airport to Simon’s rural home in outside of Neubrandenburg.

According to Google Maps, that’s actually accurate, the word the author notwithstanding.

If only you could’ve put as much effort into researching Little Red Riding Hood.

The late night excursions as well as international jet lag had an immediate effect on Han’s body, as he fell asleep within moments of settling down in the car. Germany could wait. Simon could wait. All Adelaide was doing was waiting.

It was rather like the calm before a violent storm.

Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN! count: 66

“Hey, dog breath, we’re here,” Theo was trying to tell him. He shook himself awake, surveying his surroundings. It was the family home, where he had grown up. Hans suppressed the memories that threatened to surface and pulled himself from the car.

GoodJamags: Wow, just look at that home.

I really like what they did with all the stuff over by the things.

GoodJamags: And it’s such a potentially existent neighborhood, too.

“You start scratching for fleas and I’ll have to make you sleep outside,” Simon joked.

Wait, so they filled Simon in? And he actually believed it?

Hans pinned Simon with his glare, replying: “I have my flea collar.”

GoodJamags: I mean, once people start shooting pins out of their eyes, I’ll believe anything.

“I see the states did not ruin your sense of humor.” Hans said nothing more, pushing past his brother to the porch, so he could be a step closer in entering the house and retiring to bed. He was going to murder someone out of werewolf form if he wasn’t allowed more than several hours of sleep.

“Has he always been this way?” Theo asked.

“Oh yes, ever since we were children. He lacks the love of a mother.” Even though they were older, Simon still felt the need to pinprick him with memories that he had Hans didn’t.

The attribution in that sequence of paragraphs is absolutely fucked. I can’t even tell what’s referring to Hans and what’s referring to Simon.

“It really is all the mother’s fault isn’t it?” Hans bit the inside of his cheek to avoid saying something particularly nasty. He was tired of confrontation. It was shame enough having to call Simon for help. He felt like a child all over again, constantly needing assistance with the most menial tasks.

“Oh dear brother, you know I only mean most of my jibes don’t you?” Schooled in the art of cutting vital organs with a smile.

Author, I still don’t know who’s talking.

Simon withdrew a set of keys from his pocket, taking his time and finally fitting the correct one into the lock before he showed them in.

“Brother, your bedroom is still available. I left it exactly as you had it.” Hans hurried up the stairs, avoiding cordial protocol, and shutting himself in only to find that Simon had not been kidding. Everything from his adolescent bed to his toy models were in place.

Maybe he would just kill his brother the old fashioned way when he was less tired he thought as he collapsed into bed.

Take a breath, narrator.

GoodJamags: Maybe he’s as excited to get to the end as we are. Also, line break!

Author’s End Note: Did you enjoy the witty banter?

Both: What witty banter?

:)

*Headdesk*

Drop me a line!

GoodJamags: No, the line break was up above.

And why would you want to be dropped a line? Their_lives_are_dull_and_grim.

GoodJamags: You just had to get one more in, didn’t you?

Yeah. So, in other news, this fic is over! Roll the Kool and the Gang!

That is not Kool and the Gang.

GoodJamags: I thought it would be more appropriate.

Taco’s gonna be so disappointed.

*SLAM!*

And now, your out-of-context quote from the next riff:

I’m not disappointed, just angry.


3 Comments on “2224: Howl – Chapter 5”

  1. TacoMagic says:

    Probably because they accomplish literally jack shit.

    I think you mean figur-

    *Jack lobs a flaming paper bag into the room*

    “Courtesy of Redell’s Guidebook, motherfucker!”

    Oh for fuck’s sake.

    • BatJamags says:

      I think you mean figur-

      Oh, whoops, you’re right. Sorry about tha-

      *Sees paper bag*

      … Huh. I’m done with the riff, and this guidebook still finds ways of disappointing me.

  2. TacoMagic says:

    Yeah. So, in other news, this fic is over! Roll the Kool and the Gang!

    Woo! Let’s get this party-

    *Guess who*

    Awwww.


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