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[reargunner]

ᴛᴇxᴛ | ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ | ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ



Leave a message if you want. I'll get back to you when I pick my comm up.

Or I won't.

Comments

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Yeah? Alright then.

Don't know your real name, but I know that one everyone else knows.

And I ain't asking. Just telling you what I know.

[reargunner]

Doesn't matter if you were asking or not. What my real name is ain't anyone else's business until I tell them.

You can call me Cain just like everyone else.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Whatever you say, Cain.

[But there's a lightness to him next. No venom in his teasing this time around.]

We best friends now? Want me to braid your hair and gossip about boys?

[reargunner]

[Pffft.]

Don't push it. Said I'd give you a shot, that doesn't mean we're friends.

[He lets out a little huff.]

... They got me on jumped up trespassing charges and underage drinking. I was a thorn in their side they wanted to get rid of. [No angel, but not worth where they sent him.] I was seventeen.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

You got sent to some max space prison for trespassing?

What kind of thorn were you?

[reargunner]

Don't know anything about small town cop mentality?

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Yeah, I do actually.

But that's still extreme. How long?

[reargunner]

Five years, 'til the Alliance showed up to offer me a deal to get out.

Then I went to war.

[Not as simple as that, but... there's a whole lot in there he won't even tell people he knows better than a guy he's had one conversation with.]

New Volga's a collection of colonies. They don't have a tier system for prison. Everyone gets the same one.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Efficient.

[An audible eyeroll at that.]

I'd hate inmates, too, if I got stuck in max for delinquency.

[reargunner]

[He snorts again.]

Place like that, you do what you have to do to get by.

[And perhaps now Jacob understands better why Cain doesn't easily trust his intentions.]

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[Trust is subjective. At least to Jacob.]

Yeah, I get it.

Anyway. You ever want a drink, hit me up. I got nothing else going on.

[reargunner]

Can't say my diary's that full either.

[And wow, he hates it.]

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

You gotta get a better social calendar.

[reargunner]

Never been in the habit of making friends while incarcerated. Best way to end up with a shiv in your back or worse.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Yeah, you're going to end up with one of those sooner or later anyway. Might as well have someone who will bring you the good shit while you're recovering.

[reargunner]

I have someone for that.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Good for you.

I'm going down to the speakeasy to mix ibuprofen and vodka to see if I can't make something stronger. If I see you there, I'll pour you a glass.

[reargunner]

[Cain doesn't reply to that last message, but a while later he does saunter into the speakeasy. The young man doesn't have the look of someone who is uncomfortable in his situation and he clocks Jacob immediately despite not yet knowing what the man looks like.

Something about him. Or maybe it's the ibuprofen on the bar.

He takes a seat, but not after grabbing a bottle of whiskey and a glass.]

There's some Everclear back there if you wanna get really fucked up. Unless Blitz already drank it all.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He wrinkles his nose at the suggestion, looking up to take him in properly.]

Everclear is what I drank to get fucked up in the middle of the goddamn woods when I was a kid.

I have standards now.

[reargunner]

Still tastes better than some shit I've drank.

[You didn't get to be picky in prison, and inmates did have ways of putting things like that. He's going to leave out the part where he down four shots of 151 proof recently and thought he might be dying for a few hours.]

So, here I am.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Warden took all my good shit away that I got in the last port. So.

[He pours a drink into a glass for him.]

And the only doctor in there that's non-magical fucking hates me.

[reargunner]

Your warden sounds like a dick.

[And while he's reserving judgement and trying not to generalise - a couple of the ones he knows are good people - his own first temp is giving him something of a dim view of them overall.]

Don't much like the one I'm stuck with right now, either.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He's alright. I drugged someone, so - he's probably right in what he did.

[He takes a long drink.]

Who do you have this month?

[reargunner]

Hmm.

[Fair point. If Jacob's fine with it, then, he supposes it's not his business. Instead, the topic turns to his own pain in the ass, and he pours himself a drink before he answers.]

Calls himself Jesus. Just gotta deal with him for a few weeks. Keeps insisting on checking in on me.

[He knocks the drink back and swallows it without so much as a grimace.]

He can go to hell.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Oh that guy. Calls himself Jesus.

[He shakes his head.]

Some people don't go for subtlety, do they? At least when my parents named me and my brothers, they stuck to normal names.