[ it's the opportunity he needs. evan tells himself to sit up, to turn, to deliver a killing blow to david. a punch to the throat that snaps the windpipe. a hard enough hit to shatter his skull and drive the pieces into his brain. one final hit to the ribs that makes the broken bone fragments puncture his lungs.
he tenses, but he can't do it. his shoulders are on fire. his own ribs feel like they're about to break into pieces. he manages to push himself up about six inches, then hits the ground again, feeling pathetic. weak. useless.
this was such a stupid idea. ]
Your old man happy about all that?
[ it's an idle, exhausted question. he wants to get mad again so he can beat david up. wants to let the rage overpower the pain. maybe hearing about how david got rewarded for fighting him will do the trick. ]
[ that gets another laugh out of him. it's not hard or loud, but it makes david clutch his ribs with a groan regardless at the pain that spikes. ]
Think he called it shameful, actually.
[ david says it like it's a joke, but the way he stares up at nothing in particular is vacant, tired. he did what he was supposed to, and all he got was his father's disappointment and a month of recovery. ]
[ well, a month plus whatever this adds to it. what a stupid idea. ]
Yours?
[ his old man must've loved it, right? king's son dragged away bloodied and bruised? hilarious. ]
[ evan's silent for a while, surprised by david's response, unsure what to say next. he could lie, but he's never been good at that. besides, it'll be obvious if he manages to pull it off and later someone else brings up the truth.
both of them got shot down for their efforts. just like both of them got handed stupid assignments like they were children. ]
Same thing.
[ he doesn't mention the direct insults. the fact that david got him on his back again. at least this time nobody could see it. ]
[ david says it with a sigh, still staring blankly upward. nothing's ever good enough. do what they want, do as you're told, somehow it's still disappointing. as if a single ounce of pride would make the world come crashing down. ]
[ christ, no wonder they're alike in all the worst ways. what a chilling thought. ]
[ he doesn't like hearing that. especially because it's true.
evan tries to push himself up again and manages to get into a sitting position, but that's about it. he looks at his hands, the bruised and bloodied knuckles where all the scabs split open while they brawled again. ]
[ david doesn't move, but he does turn his head to look at evan with a frown. he has to be better than this. after everything he's done? all the shit he's given up? and he's just a glorified thug? ]
[ god that's depressing. he's quiet for a long few moments, trying not to get stuck on the miserable reality of his situation. ]
[ he glares at david after the silence breaks, uncertain what kind of offer that is. if it's genuine or if he's going to try and break evan's neck as soon as he stands up. or try to poison him. or drink him under the table - david may be the only person alive who can - and then let him die there from alcohol poisoning or something stupider.
or maybe it's just an offer, considering the hollow realization they both just had. ]
[ standing is... not easy. not only does it feel like every inch of him hurts and is angry about it, but laying on the floor that much made him stiffen up too. david sits up carefully, and then groans in complaint as he slowly gets to his feet. has to take a moment to just stare at his hoodie where it landed on the floor before he can make himself bend over to pick it up. ]
Place down the street alright?
[ truthfully, he hadn't been expecting evan to say yes, but far be it from david to back out when drinking's involved. especially as fucking miserable as he feels right now. as they both probably feel. ]
[ at least they don't have to go far, if evan's up for it. there's a place nearby that used to be linked to the brewery before it shut down, it's still open, he thinks. nothing fancy, probably kinda rundown at this point actually. ]
[ evan gets up when david does, trying not to make any sounds of outright pain like he wants to. he just about manages it, though the sigh he lets out when he finishes suggests it was a lot more difficult than he let on. everything in him wanted to stay down, on the cold floor that was almost easing some of the aches.
he makes a noise of assent when david suggests the place. outside their territories, for the most part. he's sure someone will recognize them both, but given that it's not the first time they've been seen together lately, maybe it won't matter. maybe they'll just assume it's more of the same. and maybe he'll get his ass beat when he goes home later.
as if that'll make a difference. right now, a drink sounds about right. he heads out the door ahead of david, glancing around before stepping out to make sure that nobody's watching or that they're not about to be followed. ]
[ he pulls his hoodie on, puts the hood up — it won't stop him being recognized, but it'll slow things down a bit. at a glance he probably just looks like one of evan's goons, which smarts his ego a little, but after the battering it's been taking recently it barely registers. ]
[ walking also sucks, in case anyone was wondering, but david just about manages to keep himself from limping. walking in silence, because he doubts evan's eager for small talk, at least lets him focus on himself and not letting the pain show. lets him mentally prepare himself too, to put on the face when he gets to the bar. ]
[ the shift in his demeanour is instantaneous as they walk through the doors, seemingly relaxed. casual and at ease with something playful in his eyes as he approaches the bar to order a beer. ]
[ the change in david is so abrupt that evan thinks, for a second, that everything before this was a lie, a joke, a way to try and make evan look stupid. he's furious, but it dies quickly, because there's no way someone can fake that kind of injury. if he had, he wouldn't have walked out of there with evan. he would have tried to kill him much more seriously. he would have killed him.
he frowns at david as he follows him. a way of hiding everything. the pain, the frustration, the disappointment. the rage. lying with every aspect of himself. it's something evan's never been able to do. his moods are always right there, right on him, face and body altogether.
maybe he should have figured it out.
he doesn't try when he orders his drink, something less serious than he'd normally get because he's in enough pain and lost enough blood to make hard liquor a bad idea. when he gets it, he follows david to a booth at the edge of things, out of sight of anybody looking for excitement. ]
[ it doesn't even occur to david as anything noteworthy; it takes energy sometimes, like now, but david's been doing it so long it's practically instinct at this point. never let people see anything except the brash, charming hedonist with a hair trigger. ]
[ he looks down at himself, in fact, in a rare moment of open and genuine stupidity, as if he'll see what evan's talking about. is it something about his clothes? but it's just a plain black tracksuit. ]
[ david shrugs, like his meaning is obvious. they're both hiding what they're dealing with, evan's mask is just a little closer to reality than david's. ]
[ of course he can't get a straight answer out of david. evan turns his glare to his drink but doesn't start in on it quite yet. why is he even here? because they're both about to collapse and can't go back home to deal with even more bullshit yet. right. he has to remember that. ]
Everybody else tell you what a great job you did kickin' my shit in?
Sure, some did. Mostly sucking up. Few tried to laugh it up with me about the reverse-- [ he shrugs ] They weren't so smart.
[ trying to be chummy chummy with him about how well evan did kicking his ass when he's clearly pissed off and in pain, what a great idea. people should be glad they didn't lose any teeth for that shit. granted, the busted lips and noses and shitass dangerous jobs they got sent on were probably worse. ]
[ normally evan would be slightly mollified learning that. a little smug. right now, it barely even registers. nobody said anything to him about david doing better. they didn't have to. they went over his head. ]
Maybe one of us should've taken it too far. Solved a lot of problems for everyone.
[ he takes a drink. the taste doesn't help things at all, but it does wake him up from his pit a little. ]
[ david snorts, thinking about how pissed his dad would've been then. ]
I'm sure dropping a war at their feet would've gone down great.
[ it wouldn't actually have been the worst idea. simultaneously taking out macmillan's strongest enforcer along with those arrogant little upstarts macmillan would've had to ally with. puts them in a terrible position they would've struggled to come back from. ]
[ maybe he should've done it. ]
[ but he didn't, and evan didn't, so they're here now. weird as it is. ]
[ definitely more problems. evan makes a discontented noise into his beer and tries to pretend he never said that. ]
What's the fucking point, then? All they ever told us to do was fight. Now that was the wrong idea?
[ maybe it wasn't, and they just fucked it up. it's awkward and offensive finding common ground with david, but david might be literally the only person alive who can grasp this. ]
[ david shrugs a shoulder — and regrets it immediately — he agrees, but he's got no answers. ]
Who fuckin' knows, man.
[ he takes a drink, pushes his beer mat around a little with the base of his glass. ]
Amount of shit I've given up 'cause they need me to fight and bleed, but somehow it's never enough? [ he shakes his head, a grim smirk at the corners of his expression as he takes another drink. ] Amount of my blood on these streets could probably fill a blood drive, shit.
[ evan snorts. not significantly or in any way to mock david - it's almost a laugh. the closest he can get right now as the alcohol slowly drags the grimness in him deeper. ]
Just the way shit is. Higher standards for us.
[ standards that nobody ever explained.
abruptly he takes one long swig of the beer - doesn't finish it but almost goes half. being depressed about this is pathetic. if he's going to be anything, he should be angry. too bad their failure of a fight killed most of that. ]
[ that catches david off guard enough that he bursts out laughing, hard and sudden, surprising himself. he ends up putting his beer down and clutching at his side because of the way it makes his ribs flare up in pain, bright and hot. ]
Shit, could you imagine?
[ he tries to imagine what kind of anger that would get out of his father, the look on his face. he can imagine the tirade about being reckless and stupid, but shit. it'd be a story at the very least. and have them less beat the fuck up than they are now. ]
They'd probably complain about that too, but fuck. We'd've got some money out of it.
[ he can't imagine, really, but at least it shifts the mood. evan doesn't smile, but he does raise his eyebrows a little at david's explosion of laughter. ]
Coupla new felony charges, too. Doubt anybody'd buy our way out of that.
[ still ... the money would be nice. his own, if admittedly stolen, money. it's not that he struggles, but he makes less than someone might assume working for his father. ]
Make life a bigger problem for everybody, honestly.
[ but he doesn't say it with any particular irritation in his voice. ]
[ it's a hypothetical, imaginary bank robbery. there's no reason why they can't hypothetically, imaginary get away with it. it's not like it's something they're ever gonna do for real, they'd probably spend too much time arguing to even get in the door. ]
[ it's fun to think about, and given everything else on the table to think about, david thinks it's totally fair of him to latch onto this. on the comedy of robbing a bank with his rival and getting away with it, even if everybody knows. ]
[ he shakes his head, still with a lightly amused look on his face. ]
I know it's bad of me, but I always did enjoy those meetings with cops. When they know I done something but they can't do a fuckin' thing about it.
[ evan almost laughs again at that. his relationship with cops might be slightly better than david's, but that's only because of how he was raised. archie despises the police primarily on the grounds that he's better than them, not because they get in his way (which they don't). so it's bled down to his son. ]
Guess that's the benefit of gettin' talked down to all the time. Thrown the scraps. Might be insulting, but nobody can touch us.
[ he debates that, weighs whether it's worth it or not, and takes another drinks. ]
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hardlydead) wrote2024-05-20 10:36 pm
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he tenses, but he can't do it. his shoulders are on fire. his own ribs feel like they're about to break into pieces. he manages to push himself up about six inches, then hits the ground again, feeling pathetic. weak. useless.
this was such a stupid idea. ]
Your old man happy about all that?
[ it's an idle, exhausted question. he wants to get mad again so he can beat david up. wants to let the rage overpower the pain. maybe hearing about how david got rewarded for fighting him will do the trick. ]
no subject
Think he called it shameful, actually.
[ david says it like it's a joke, but the way he stares up at nothing in particular is vacant, tired. he did what he was supposed to, and all he got was his father's disappointment and a month of recovery. ]
[ well, a month plus whatever this adds to it. what a stupid idea. ]
Yours?
[ his old man must've loved it, right? king's son dragged away bloodied and bruised? hilarious. ]
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both of them got shot down for their efforts. just like both of them got handed stupid assignments like they were children. ]
Same thing.
[ he doesn't mention the direct insults. the fact that david got him on his back again. at least this time nobody could see it. ]
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[ david says it with a sigh, still staring blankly upward. nothing's ever good enough. do what they want, do as you're told, somehow it's still disappointing. as if a single ounce of pride would make the world come crashing down. ]
[ christ, no wonder they're alike in all the worst ways. what a chilling thought. ]
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evan tries to push himself up again and manages to get into a sitting position, but that's about it. he looks at his hands, the bruised and bloodied knuckles where all the scabs split open while they brawled again. ]
Guess we aren't better than this.
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[ god that's depressing. he's quiet for a long few moments, trying not to get stuck on the miserable reality of his situation. ]
You wanna get a drink?
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or maybe it's just an offer, considering the hollow realization they both just had. ]
Yeah. Sure.
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Place down the street alright?
[ truthfully, he hadn't been expecting evan to say yes, but far be it from david to back out when drinking's involved. especially as fucking miserable as he feels right now. as they both probably feel. ]
[ at least they don't have to go far, if evan's up for it. there's a place nearby that used to be linked to the brewery before it shut down, it's still open, he thinks. nothing fancy, probably kinda rundown at this point actually. ]
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he makes a noise of assent when david suggests the place. outside their territories, for the most part. he's sure someone will recognize them both, but given that it's not the first time they've been seen together lately, maybe it won't matter. maybe they'll just assume it's more of the same. and maybe he'll get his ass beat when he goes home later.
as if that'll make a difference. right now, a drink sounds about right. he heads out the door ahead of david, glancing around before stepping out to make sure that nobody's watching or that they're not about to be followed. ]
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[ walking also sucks, in case anyone was wondering, but david just about manages to keep himself from limping. walking in silence, because he doubts evan's eager for small talk, at least lets him focus on himself and not letting the pain show. lets him mentally prepare himself too, to put on the face when he gets to the bar. ]
[ the shift in his demeanour is instantaneous as they walk through the doors, seemingly relaxed. casual and at ease with something playful in his eyes as he approaches the bar to order a beer. ]
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he frowns at david as he follows him. a way of hiding everything. the pain, the frustration, the disappointment. the rage. lying with every aspect of himself. it's something evan's never been able to do. his moods are always right there, right on him, face and body altogether.
maybe he should have figured it out.
he doesn't try when he orders his drink, something less serious than he'd normally get because he's in enough pain and lost enough blood to make hard liquor a bad idea. when he gets it, he follows david to a booth at the edge of things, out of sight of anybody looking for excitement. ]
Don't know how the fuck you do that.
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[ it doesn't even occur to david as anything noteworthy; it takes energy sometimes, like now, but david's been doing it so long it's practically instinct at this point. never let people see anything except the brash, charming hedonist with a hair trigger. ]
[ he looks down at himself, in fact, in a rare moment of open and genuine stupidity, as if he'll see what evan's talking about. is it something about his clothes? but it's just a plain black tracksuit. ]
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Two minutes ago you were ready to drop dead. You walk in here and it's like we never fought.
[ like they both weren't lying on the ground, wishing they were someone else's kids. ]
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Same thing as that sour face of yours.
[ david shrugs, like his meaning is obvious. they're both hiding what they're dealing with, evan's mask is just a little closer to reality than david's. ]
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[ of course he can't get a straight answer out of david. evan turns his glare to his drink but doesn't start in on it quite yet. why is he even here? because they're both about to collapse and can't go back home to deal with even more bullshit yet. right. he has to remember that. ]
Everybody else tell you what a great job you did kickin' my shit in?
[ as in, everybody who wasn't his father. ]
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[ trying to be chummy chummy with him about how well evan did kicking his ass when he's clearly pissed off and in pain, what a great idea. people should be glad they didn't lose any teeth for that shit. granted, the busted lips and noses and shitass dangerous jobs they got sent on were probably worse. ]
Smart ones didn't say shit about shit.
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Maybe one of us should've taken it too far. Solved a lot of problems for everyone.
[ he takes a drink. the taste doesn't help things at all, but it does wake him up from his pit a little. ]
Woulda caused a lot more, I guess.
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I'm sure dropping a war at their feet would've gone down great.
[ it wouldn't actually have been the worst idea. simultaneously taking out macmillan's strongest enforcer along with those arrogant little upstarts macmillan would've had to ally with. puts them in a terrible position they would've struggled to come back from. ]
[ maybe he should've done it. ]
[ but he didn't, and evan didn't, so they're here now. weird as it is. ]
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What's the fucking point, then? All they ever told us to do was fight. Now that was the wrong idea?
[ maybe it wasn't, and they just fucked it up. it's awkward and offensive finding common ground with david, but david might be literally the only person alive who can grasp this. ]
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Who fuckin' knows, man.
[ he takes a drink, pushes his beer mat around a little with the base of his glass. ]
Amount of shit I've given up 'cause they need me to fight and bleed, but somehow it's never enough? [ he shakes his head, a grim smirk at the corners of his expression as he takes another drink. ] Amount of my blood on these streets could probably fill a blood drive, shit.
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Just the way shit is. Higher standards for us.
[ standards that nobody ever explained.
abruptly he takes one long swig of the beer - doesn't finish it but almost goes half. being depressed about this is pathetic. if he's going to be anything, he should be angry. too bad their failure of a fight killed most of that. ]
Maybe we shoulda robbed a goddamned bank.
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Shit, could you imagine?
[ he tries to imagine what kind of anger that would get out of his father, the look on his face. he can imagine the tirade about being reckless and stupid, but shit. it'd be a story at the very least. and have them less beat the fuck up than they are now. ]
They'd probably complain about that too, but fuck. We'd've got some money out of it.
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Coupla new felony charges, too. Doubt anybody'd buy our way out of that.
[ still ... the money would be nice. his own, if admittedly stolen, money. it's not that he struggles, but he makes less than someone might assume working for his father. ]
Make life a bigger problem for everybody, honestly.
[ but he doesn't say it with any particular irritation in his voice. ]
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[ it's a hypothetical, imaginary bank robbery. there's no reason why they can't hypothetically, imaginary get away with it. it's not like it's something they're ever gonna do for real, they'd probably spend too much time arguing to even get in the door. ]
[ it's fun to think about, and given everything else on the table to think about, david thinks it's totally fair of him to latch onto this. on the comedy of robbing a bank with his rival and getting away with it, even if everybody knows. ]
[ he shakes his head, still with a lightly amused look on his face. ]
I know it's bad of me, but I always did enjoy those meetings with cops. When they know I done something but they can't do a fuckin' thing about it.
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Guess that's the benefit of gettin' talked down to all the time. Thrown the scraps. Might be insulting, but nobody can touch us.
[ he debates that, weighs whether it's worth it or not, and takes another drinks. ]
Except us, I guess.
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