#demomantf2

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Winter had taken hold of Tuefort in a much bigger grasp than previous years, and surprisingly much earlier too. Frost on nearly every surface, snow up to an average mans waist and moods for everyone in that miserable gravel pit even lower.

Beers, whiskeys and scrumpy were consumed alot more than usual, especially since Smissmas season was coming up. Tavish being the one to consume the most, although usual for any day, these times were practically a world record. Though around these times such amounts were consumed to help soothe and help with concentration.

Stumbling up to the roof, a bag under one arm and a beer case under the other, he wandered up here for some quiet and to do some last minute tinkering on an experimental grenade launcher.

Only after plopping down against the roof entrance's exterior wall, and poppin open a few beers, did Tavish realise he wasnt alone. A few feet away was his teammate, one he was fond of the most, and they were fiddleing with an acoustic guitar.

Strumming for a few seconds and then twisting and twiddling the tuners.

"You up here for a break too, lad?" Tavish called out to them, their head snapping up and their long orange curls flouncing back. Surprised their solitude was broken.

Bo joined him by the wall, setting their instrument to the side and picking up a bottle of his alcohol. Tavish said nothing as they chugged most of it with an unusal quickness.

The season was getting to them too.

He was smart enough to know that...especially since his teammate was a huge whiskey enjoyer and often turned down beer.

Silence flooded the roof again, then broke when Tavish started rewireing his launcher, and Bo had opened another beer.

"Youre a good man, Tav'." Theyd mutter, slamming the bottle down with an uncharacteristic simmering rage. Judgeing by the familiar slur to their words, this wasnt their first bottle of liquor tonight.

"Youre probably the most normal man on this bloody team." Tucking a long strand of hair behind their pierced ear, and wiping their mouth on their arm.

"That is far from the truth, laddie." Tavish whipped his head up, squinting his doubt at them.

Bo sighed, sitting up on their knees and leaning to see what Tavish was doing. After a few silent seconds of watching, they continued.

" I dont belong here." Bo slurred, picking up a third bottle. "i was meant to create. Not destroy." Their voice gruff and lower than usual. "To tell stories, and sing songs of legends."

Tavish put together it was in fact not the seasons weird influence on peoples happiness.

This was a festering mess he wasnt able to deal with, but he was absolutely going to try.

"But oh, oh no. I dont get to."

Tavish got to a stopping point with his project, and set it, carefully, aside. His eye looking up and over to the Irishman who was now towering over him.

"I. Get to kill, the same bloody people. Over, and over, and over."

A pit dropped in the Scotsmans stomach, Bo swayed as they started pacing. Thankfully, not close the roofs edge. "And die. Over, and over and OVER." Tavish watched over their pacing, and bitter quiet ramblings. Nervously he leaned up, bringing his knees to his chest, waiting to dash if they get too close to the roofs edge.

"Its too much." Bo clutched their arms around themself and flopped down onto their knees. "Its all too much."

Tavish stood quickly and rushed to their side, placing a hand on their back as they sobbed into their own hands. Tracing his scared hands along their back in slow, soothing circles.

He had no clue what he was doing, as he usually drank and drank to ease his own sorrows, but he knew that wasnt the solution for everyone, and

offering Bo more beer wasnt going to help whatsoever, so he just let them continue their drunken ramblings.

"I couldve lived. I could be out there, creating. Existing. But no. Im bloody stuck here." The ginger gasped in some air, leaning their head to the side and pressing it against Tavish' shoulder.

"Easy. Easy, there. I think you had a wee bit too to drink much, lassie." He said softly, easing to his feet and carefully helping up the swaying, sobbing ginger.