IC contact

[wiseoldbartender]

Husk

Fuck off.

VOICE | TEXT | VIDEO | ACTION

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FROM: SUBJECT: FAMILY CHAT So we got a pig now. LAPIS I know you don't want a big fuss... EDWARD If you want to talk about it or... DIARMUID I heard what happened. CEREZA Knock knock, my little Sourpuss~ CAMILLA Say, Husk, you wouldn't happen to have any recommendations... LAPIS Father's Day SAMPO/LAPIS/JINWOO Husker Agapov. On the next night in... LAPIS Are you at your place right now? EUNIE how's this month's mission mildred

TO: SUBJECT: FAM CHAT What does it mean when you dream DIARMUID So. Are we gonna talk about the thing. FAM CHAT Weird request. One of you needs to come... BLADE Got a sword from that sketchy shopkeeper. ELLIOT Hey, Elliot. Think shit's calmed down enough... DIARMUID Order came. At Jinwoo's place. LAPIS That FUCKING son of a BITCH HUA CHENG Shit's getting bad. LAPIS One of those flying boxes gave me a new phone EUNIE You might wanna stay away from your regular place for a while.

code by cawaii

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text; un: captainkenway | three days post-Horrors

[jackdawvision]

If you want to talk about it or just punch someone who killed you in the face, come meet me at this bar.

[And he sends the name and address of a seedy dive bar somewhere downtown.]

[wiseoldbartender]

I ain't gonna punch you, Dipshit. You killed me, I killed you back. It's even.

[Husk that's not how this works at all you psycho. Still, the offer for a drink is a little too loud to ignore. He doesn't WANT to talk about it, but now it's happened and he guesses if he tries to not talk about it, someone's gonna be obnoxious and bother him anyway.

And... well, he guesses being quiet about it for the past 40 years didn't really do shit for him. Might as well give talking a try.]

...Fine. I'll be there.

[He drags himself out of his home, headed to the seedy bar. He looks like a man who hasn't been sleeping and have been actively drinking for three days... which is exactly what's been happening. He takes a seat next to Edward at the bar once he gets there. ]

Hey.

[jackdawvision]

Then I suppose all that’s left is to talk about it.

[Joy. The thing Edward wants to do about this the least. He’s still a bundle of raw nerves, too exposed and bloody, but he’s at least made some progress over the past few days. Well—progress, in that he has bothered to comb his hair and change his clothes for this meeting. Any more effort than that is beyond him, for the moment.

Husk looks like a wreck. Edward’s fairly certain he does too. But in this dive bar, they’re surrounded by other people whose lives look a bit like fresh shipwrecks, so at least they don’t stand out. He pushes a bottle of something clear towards Husk.]

I asked for the strongest drink they had. Apparently, they use this as paint stripper. [He has no idea what it’s called. Frankly he doesn’t care.]

…I’d say I’m sorry, and I am, but under the circumstances, it feels a tad inadequate to just—apologize, for what happened.

You deserve better than that from me.

[wiseoldbartender]

[True, at least they didn't stand out so much in a place like this. Not a soul in the bar looked even remotely okay. Small mercies, Husk supposes.

He takes the bottle, giving it a cautious sniff. He pulls his head back as the stench of it hits him. Yup. That's for sure a pain stripper kind of booze. Just what he needed. He takes a long swig of it, glad for the burn in his throat as it goes down. ]

S'what I needed, thanks.

[And here comes the apology. Husk's ears pin back as he takes another swig of his drink.]

I don't deserve shit. None of us were in our right minds in that fuckin' ship. You don't gotta apologise for something you didn't have any damn control over. It happened, and now it's done. Ain't no point kicking yourself about it.

[jackdawvision]

Aye, but it's still my blade. My hands that did the deed. That it didn't stick is a stroke of luck, because I am damn good at what I do.

[Which is, essentially, murdering people.]

I didn't have any control, you're right. But you still deserve an apology from me, at least. [Tiny and inadequate as it is. He pauses, then adds dryly:] Besides, it was very impressive, how you managed to get the drop on me.

[wiseoldbartender]

No, it didn't stick because I'm a fuckin' demon and mortal weapons can't kill me for good. Luck don't got shit to do with it. Especially when it comes to me.

[ He knows how terrible his luck is. He knows. ]

If I accept your apology, will you stop feeling like you've done me some great wrong? [He snorts in light amusement.] I've been working for the Black Order for longer than you've been alive for. I know how to attack someone good. Probably helped that you thought I was dead, though.

[jackdawvision]

I'd still feel like I wronged you, but I'd bother you less about it. [He sips at his own drink. It burns his throat going down, and he'll take that as some sort of penance.] I've been carrying my guilt around for years, this'll just be one more thing to add to the pile.

[There might, perhaps, be a good reason why he knows this dive bar well enough.]

Hm. I don't know about you having worked for the Order longer than I've been alive. I was born 1693.

[wiseoldbartender]

Guilt's a motherfucker like that. And the more you add to it, the heavier that shit'll get. Sounds like I don't gotta tell you that, though.

[He snorts, taking a swig of his drink. ]

Aint what I meant and you know it. You're like... fuckin' what? Thirty?

[jackdawvision]

You really don't. But like I said, I've carried it for years. I know the weight of it intimately, at this point. [It weighs exactly as much as a friend's dead body in his arms.] I can handle a bit more.

[It'll suck, but it won't break him. It'll just...knock him down for a little while. But he's good at getting back up again, too stubborn to stay down.]

Thirty-two. [Pause.] Thirty-three, I've been here a year. And, let me guess, you're a hundred years old?

[wiseoldbartender]

Least you know what you're in for. Probably more than some of the poor fuckers caught in that mess.

[ There were kids there - actual kids. Those are the ones Husk feels will struggle the most. ]

Sixty-three, so still twice your age, you smug fuck. [ As spiky as his words are, he's smirking as he does it. The he sighs, taking another swing of his drink. ] ...Past life was about that, though. Maybe more. But I was also... fuckin' dead. So there's that.

[jackdawvision]

Better than the children that bloody fucking ship dragged into this. Better than my interns. I can understand me, but they shouldn't have gotten caught in that shite in the first place. At the very least I ought to have been able to keep them safe when we got there.

[He didn't, and that's something that's always going to stay with him. That instead of being of any use to anyone, instead of being able to protect anyone, all he really did was make things worse.]

Really. You don't look a day over fifty. [This, from the man who's been at sea long enough to look forty.] What's your secret? [Jokes aside, he sighs.] What do you mean, you were dead?

[wiseoldbartender]

[Husk grimaces, he'd been out of his goddamn mind for the vast majority of that experience, but... ]

Yeah. I remember the kids. That was some real bullshit, bringing kids into it. [And yet he doesn't sound surprised. He's spent too long in the Order, where kids were at best moulded into perfect weapons or at worst were cannon fodder. It was terrible, but it was the way of things. He takes a deep slug of his drink.] You can't save everyone important to you. 'Specially when you're going out of your own head. That fuckin' think was designed to break us, you can't beat yourself up for getting broken.

[He snorts, raising a bottle. ]

Pickled everything. [ That is not the answer. He leans forward on the bar a little, frowning.] Past life? I'd died and gone to Hell. S'what this stupid cat bullshit is, it's just my demon form. Been dead a while too, don't remember all of it that great, but I know that much.