we only said goodbye with words

he was dimly reminded of his own feelings regarding his situation, discounting the idea of time off and holidays as something unique to the other. he couldn't personally understand that aspect ----- his form of WORK was more of a consistent song and dance, one that he didn't get to pull the strings to. or even pick the music.

husker took a swig of his own glass before tapping on his coaster, signifying to the bartender for ANOTHER ROUND. by the sound of it, this conversation would likely be easier with a few more drinks inhabiting his liver, and his consciousness.

"different kind of WORK, but yeah, i get it." the bartender drops off his drink, and husk takes a sip, allowing his throat to burn like fire as the liquor paints his insides.

"but being able to get up the next day is a blessing and a curse, least for me. blessing in the sense that the fucker pullin' my strings doesn't snap and finally off me. and shit, the curse? same fuckin' thing." he shakes his own head a bit before tossing back the rest of his drink, pulling his right thumb and middle finger up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he places the glass back on the coaster. he releases his bridge.

"it'd be easier, i think." he plucks one of the knotted cherry stems from the pile, lifting it to be parallel with his field of vision, twirling it around his fingertips to inspect it.

"being TIED to somethin' in this place is the biggest curse of 'em all, though. whether it be some bullshit job that never ends, or another person. a fuckin' scam that we die only to do this shit all over again. just forever, and worse." he allows himself to get lost for a moment in the knot, brain symbolizing it as a metaphor for both of their own situations. he drops it back down on the bar.

arackniss  didn’t  usually  enjoy  talking  about  work  -  even  bitching  about  it  like  he  was  was  enough  to  remind  him  how  hopeless  his  situation  was.  sure,  he  wasn’t  being  dangled  by  a  chain  or  forced  to  play  monkey  for  some  lunatic,  but  …  well.  he  might  as  well  have  been.

people  didn’t  get  his  situation,  which  was  fair  enough  ;  in  a  reality  where  your  soul  could  get  snatched  off  you,  familial  bonds  were  the  least  of  most  people’s  concerns.  they  didn’t  get  the  hold  his  father  had  on  him.  pops  had  his  grip  on  everything  -  niss’  work,  his  paycheck,  his  housing,  his  free  time,  his  fucking  meals,  for  Christ’s  sake.  he  felt  like  a  child,  still  hiding  in  daddy’s  long  shadow,  but  what  could  he  do?  where  could  he  go?  when  would  it  stop?

the  worst  was  the  way  people  looked  at  him  when  he  confessed.  for  some,  it  wasn’t  just  not  getting  it,  it  was  judgement.  disgust.  presumed  cowardice.  implied  weakness.  some  looked  at  him  with  pity,  like  he  was  a  ditzy  little  lamb  in  need  of  saving  -  something  they  could  fix.

he’d  quit  opening  up,  after  awhile.

"fire? i'd fuckin' KILL the motherfucker if i could." he takes a swig of his mead, adding another coating to his throat. it wasn't his usual liquor, but he wanted something POTENT to aid in getting to where he wanted to be, i.e., shitface drunk, faster.

"if i had the choice, that sonofabitch would have been dead a long time ago." well, it's certainly a good thing for alastor that he doesn't HAVE a choice..

arackniss  can’t  help  it  ;  he  laughs,  boisterously,  at  the  pretty  kitty’s  enthusiasm.  maybe  if  his  day  had  gone  a  little  smoother  he’d  have  shared  that  degree  of  disdain,  but  for  now,  the  fight  had  been  ripped  out  of  him  -  the  most  he  could  do  is  imagine  a  life  with  his  father’s  grip  loosened,  never  eliminated  altogether.

his  laugher  peters  off  into  something  a  bit  more  mournful  than  he’d  like,  stirring  his  cherry  around  his  glass  like  a  child  dragging  reluctant  feet.  after  a  few  moments,  he  popped  it  into  his  mouth  as  well,  tongue  stalled  by  sloppy  attempts  to  tie  the  stem.  anything  to  give  him  more  time  to  think.