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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

[reargunner]

I'm not dead.

[He puts the glass down a little too hard.]

That's bullshit. I don't fucking care what we get told. I'm not-- [Scowling, he pours another measure out. More, this time.] Abel wouldn't let it happen.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He doesn't argue that. He just nods, because Joseph would say the same thing. John should have been able to say the same thing. He takes a long drink instead.]

Then you're just waiting out your sentence. I'm definitely dead.

Rather they just let me die, though.

[reargunner]

[He's about to clear the glass again, with the first two mouthfuls already burning the back of his throat to numbness, but then he lowers his glass a bit and frowns.]

Why?

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He looks somewhere past Cain.]

I was my brother's sacrifice. Keep him alive. That's the only fucking job I wanted, especially after John fucking died.

I don't have anything else to give.

[reargunner]

[He doesn't take the drink. Cain lowers his glass down and looks at the bar top, a small frown pinching between his eyebrows.

His own sister is still alive. He doesn't need to think about it to know if he'd give up everything he had to keep her safe. She's his sister. And yet... the fact is, he's never been asked to do that.

He taps a fingertip against the glass.]

... Why are you telling me all this? Everything. You don't know me.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Because it's not a fucking secret to me. There's a whole goddamn book about my life in my world and here, my fucking warden has my whole goddamn file.

Didn't tell him he could have it. He can tell anyone anything he fucking wants.

[He taps the table.]

So you know what? Fuck it. I don't care about my own secrets, so the floods and the breaches have no ammunition against me. They like to use secrets and skeletons in your closet to tear you apart, one at a time. Little by little.

I'm not trying to force a bond here, Cain. I'm not trying to get you to spill your shit. But I'm not letting this place break me so easily.

[Jacob slams back the shot.]

And honestly, small talk is for bitches. What else do you want to talk about? The weather? Where you grew up? Jail?

[reargunner]

[It's... strange. He can feel his pulse speeding up, a rhythmic thudding in his ears, and he's not sure if one part of what Jacob said caused the shift or just... all of it.

He'd been lucky enough to avoid the worst of the Flood. To keep people from seeing anything they shouldn't. But it wouldn't last, would it. Eventually, something was going to trip him up, and he's probably not going to be ready when it does.

Cain doesn't realise he's gone slightly pale under his olive complexion. He rubs one hand briefly against his face then props his chin up on his palm.]

Fuck, last thing I wanna talk about is prison. [... sigh.] That's what it's all gonna come for, though, isn't it. Like you said. Putting it all out so everyone can fucking see it.

[He hates it. The lack of control. It makes him want to crawl out of his skin.]

Kept hearing it during the Flood. The riot siren. All the cell doors sliding shut for a lockdown. Happened all the time.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He can see it in his face. A reflection of his own at times. It's disconcerting. Makes him ill.]

Yeah? You manage to ignore it?

[reargunner]

Yeah. Mostly.

[He empties the glass finally and sets it down again almost silently.]

Got used to the noise. Doesn't mean I like hearing it.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He refills it for him.]

No, you don't.

I got sand in my fucking teeth. In my hair. That's what got me.

[reargunner]

[He scrunches his nose up a bit.]

Where the hell did you get sand from?

[Jeez, just how fucked up was everything that just happened?]

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

From hell. Or wherever this place was. You stayed in your cabin the whole fucking time?

Good.

[reargunner]

[He shakes his head a bit.]

No, not the whole time. Had a couple of people I wanted to check in on. [Seems like he managed to avoid the sand, though.]

Just got lucky I guess.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Guess so. Don't count on it again.

That was a fucking nightmare.

[He picks up his glass but doesn't drink, watching him instead.]

Picked out the shit that it knew would fuck with each person individually.

[reargunner]

[Cain just nods once.]

Yeah. I know.

[Then he quiets, fiddling with his glass. His eyes shift, as if he's following the track of his thoughts in the marks and stains on the top of the bar, then he shuts his eyes and lets out a quiet, slow breath through his nose.]

... Alexei.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[Jacob nods. Just as solemn. Just as reverent.]

Good to meet you.

[And then he takes a drink, desperate to feel the oblivion of alcohol.]

You never answered if you were armed or not.

[reargunner]

Yeah. I was.

[He lifts his glass up, but it only makes it half way before he lowers it again.]

Warden made sure of it. Insisted even. Don't know if he just has a saviour complex or if it looks bad for him if I die.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Because it's a necessity, honestly.

[Jacob's learned that much from being here.]

But if you want something else, you can go to Belmont. The older one - Trevor. He's always got shit for inmates, but it comes with catches.

[reargunner]

Catches, huh.

[Belmont... That's the guy Thrawn was trying to piss off. Just as well Cain didn't jump on that if this is going to become a possibility.]

Sounds like standard prison bullshit. What kind of catches?

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Don't kill anyone with it unless it's self defense. Don't use it unless you know how - or go get training for it. And you have to sign it out. Like a goddamn library.

[He shrugs.]

Not a bad deal, honestly.

[reargunner]

[At that, Cain just has to laugh. He clears his glass again with a soft intake of air through his teeth immediately following.]

Gospodi, is that it? Had me thinking it was going to be something unreasonable.

[He's not immune to alcohol and with how much he's had in a short time, his accent is starting to slip out.]

Thanks for the tip. I'll remember that.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He hears it, but it's not the first time he's slipped a word in there that Jacob doesn't immediately recognize. There are a lot of languages he can pick up instantly; that isn't one of them.

That laugh is actually nice, though.]

Kay - he also goes by Sweeney or Red - is another inmate. He's a good guy and can get you shit that you want, but he's going to want something in return. [But at least that's familiar.]

[reargunner]

Sweeney, huh. Met him. Tall fucker.

[He makes a motion with his hand to indicate said 'tall'. Just seeing the guy sitting down had been enough to get an idea.]

In the greenhouses before the Flood started. I was just looking around.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Sitting on his fucking knoll, I bet. [Jacob's laugh is fond. Sweeney's a brother to him. Close enough to hurt - one of the few - but Jacob trusts him not to do so. Which is even more rare.]

Yeah, tall fucker. He's got some of my good drugs with him still.

[reargunner]

[The tone of his laugh is noted. Cain tends towards being naturally suspicious of everyone at first and Sweeney did not escape that, but he'll bear the fondness in mind.

He huffs lightly as he picks up the bottle of whiskey again, letting it rest in his hand as he lazily reads the label.]

Asked Abel about you. [His accent draws out over his words with a clear Russian twang.] He didn't tell you not to speak to me. Figured as much. Not his style.