11 – 46 & 2

Roan’s first night tailing Campanelli was as boring as hell.

He followed him to the QFC, where he spent twenty minutes before emerging with a single plastic bag. He then followed Campanelli to his condo, where he went inside and stayed for the night. Roan made sure of that by watching his condo until an hour after the light went off in his unit. After he didn’t sneak out by then, Roan figured he wasn’t going to.

It was late, but Panic was still open, and Dylan was probably finishing up his shift, so he drove to the club. For a weekday night, it was relatively busy, but he imagined that meant it’d be good for tips.

Mighty Mouse just welcomed him back and waved him in, and he braced himself to be overwhelmed by the noise, scents, and lights.  It didn’t help, it still hit him like a punch in the chest, but between the painkillers and the strangely pleasurable painful prickling of his scalp , it wasn’t so bad.

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.. or TV show. (Really, I think this was made for the serial format, but what do I know?)

I was talking with a friend, and we decided to “cast” this imaginary project. So I thought just for fun I’d share my idea of what it would look like, if I were the god and could make this happen.

For whatever reason, I had the hardest time casting the leads. The secondary characters were damn easy, but Roan and Paris? In fact, I haven’t cast Paris at all – my friend suggested a name, so I’ve included him. She didn’t like my idea for Roan, feeling he isn’t big enough, but had no suggestion of her own. So that’s all noted.

Here’s my idea (and one of hers):

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10 – Sink Your Teeth In

The cat was panicked beyond reason, and roared back at him, and its haunches tensed as it prepared to pounce, but he roared once more and lowered his head, growling until the noise filled his world. Finally the cat wavered, cowered, and reluctantly submitted. It was hurt, angry, and confused, but it wasn’t so gone that it thought it could win a fight with him.

Roan pulled out the drug gun and shot the cat before he lost control and pounced on it. He was grinding his teeth together, tasting blood, and the pain in his jaw was radiant, angry, filling his vision with red. The lion really wanted to come out and play, but he couldn’t let it, not now.

His jaw felt hot and swollen, like it was three times the size of his head, and he wondered if he had any painkillers in his pocket, because the resulting ache was almost intolerable. His entire head was throbbing like an erratic heart, and he was fairly sure he wouldn’t be able to go on much longer without some kind of chemical anesthetic, otherwise the lion might just get out. He would just have to try and bull his way through it, at least until he could get outside.
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