[html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... ntable.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> For Vukasin
Haven looked out at the world through blurry eyes. Everything was dark and everything was sinister. At least as far as his alcohol ridden brain could discern. The hybrid sat at one of the stools at the bar that had become his sanctuary as well as his prison. It had been a few days since he had left the place. It had everything he needed. A roof over his head and the strong numbing liquid always in his hand. He had found a cot in the back that he had put together for he needed to sleep or simply pass out. The difference between those two occurrences was becoming harder and harder to distinguish.
He didn't trust himself around others. What if he did something to them? The blood of a rapist and possible murderer flowed through him. What if it was in his genes? That eventually one day it would overcome him as well and he would start hurting those he cared about. He wouldn't let that happen. So he would lock himself away. Keep his mind mind chained down by the alcohol. Then maybe everyone would be safe from him. The youth took another long drink from the bottle, his face as void as his heart.
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A loud grunt sounded through the misty air as a black shadow tripped toward the door to the decrepit bar. He had had about enough of Halifax. The other day he'd met some healer-type chick, but he'd been practically wasted, so, he didn't remember much. Other than his pulled calf muscle. That hurt like a bitch, and the pain seared right through the haze of the gins and wines he was fond of, and of which he "occasionally" partook.
The truth was, though, that despite the fact thathe occasionally seemed to be swiming in booze, he was still fairly young, and didn't drink very often. Now, as he wandered into the bar, while he was peripherally aware of the presence of another, it did not immediately register in his mind. He swayed rather gracefully over to the bar and reached around to grab a martini glass. Having secured the vessel, he began his quest for gin, vermouth, and those lovely olives he so loved.
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Haven was taking another long draw from his bottle when someone stumbled into the bar. Into his bar. The drunkard looked at the other, for the moment dumbfounded. No one had come in here since he had taken up residence. Somehow he had become a little possessive of his den of filth and booze. The other wolf didn't even notice him! Didn't even look at him! Perhaps this guy was even more drunk than the Aatte kid was. He took another drink of rum and slammed the bottle down loudly on the top of the bar.
The hybrid glared at the dark man, a kind of dangerous but dull light in his jade eyes. "What cha think yourr doin' in here?" His speech wasn't slurred that badly, but he definitely was getting to that point of intoxication. He had basically been drinking ever since that day he had found out about what his father was. Somewhere in the back of his soaking mind he was glad that it wasn't anyone that knew him standing in the bar right now. What a shameful sight he was. Nothing like the normal Haven Aatte.
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((Done now. XD))
Glancing up, Vukasin sighed. Finally being forced to acknowledge the presence of another being in the small room, he grunted. Figures. Finally finding those darling olives, Vuk sat down in an empty, half-broken bar stool and began mixing his drink. "Drinking. What's it to you, guy?" he grumbled as he took a sip. He sighed as the liquid flowed down his throat. Better. He was, regrettably, on one of his unprovoked drinking binges. They never lasted very long, but they sometimes had lasting effects on him. For instance, the last time he went stumbling around for three days drinking, he'd broken his left leg, and since he was his own patient, the bones had not quite been aligned, which resulted in a large calcium deposit between them, which, while it did repair the break, it left his left leg about an inch longer, and sometimes caused him great pain. And that was just the last time.
After a few moments, he began to feel a bit more relaxed, and he let the off-kilter plain of the stool turn him towards the other occupant of the room. He looked him over for a moment, then laughed. He was orange. As orange as a pumpkin. Hehehe... "So, what's your name, Pumpkin Butt?" He wouldn't ordinarily have said something like that, but he'd never seen anyone that -bright- a shade of orange, and in his less-than-lucid state, it seemed hilarious to him.
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This guy seemed cocky. Like he could just come in here and do as he pleased while Haven just sat there? Not likely!
He watched as the dark wolf found some weird looking round things and started mixing his drink in that silly glass. Why not just drink straight from the bottle? Using a glass just seemed unnecessary and silly to the young hybrid. "It's to me 'cause I lives here." He made a rough motion to the cot that lay behind him. It was barely a life, nothing compared to what he had left behind in Crimson Dreams, but in his mind this was all he deserved now. Solitary confinement. He took another long draw of rum, the spiced liquid tickling his nose. It was more pleasant than some of the alcohols, though what he liked seemed to change from day to day.
As the other laughed he glared at the man through the corner of his eye. What the hell was so funny? The boy felt those mismatched eyes scan over him and an anger started to simmer in his chest. At the unwelcome nickname Haven felt his fur bristle. His mother had called him pumpkin head when he was little and he hadn't minded. But this man didn't know him. Didn't have any right to be calling him names like that. He was being made fun of and he didn't like it. "Don't call me that," he said with a slight growl. "Name's Haven. Whas your's greenfoot?" If he was going to be given some stupid nickname then the other guy was getting one too. He took another drink of rum, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
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((Done now. XD))
He laughed even harder. Haven, then. Whatever. Like it made any difference to him. "This isn't exactly the kind of place where most people live... Besides, you smell like Crimson Dreams. As in the pack, not that old weird-o book..." he replied as he took another sip, refering to some old book he'd found in a library once. He didn't know if Haven even knew what it was, but he clarified anyway. "And why not call you that? You're bright orange, bub. I could have come up with something better, if I was less drunk, but, at least for now, you're Pumpkin Butt... And my foot's yellow, not green." he corrected.
After this rant, which was rather long for a drunken Vukasin, he paused for a minute. Why was this guy here, anyway? Had something bad happened? Had some one he known or loved gotten hurt? Had he hurt someone? Vuk shook his head and sighed. Speculation only bred ill results, no matter what the scenario.
As if in afterthought, he introduced himself with a bit of a flourish, the alcohol making him behave more dramatically than he would have sober. "I, Pumpkin Butt, -er, Haven-, am known as Vukasin Sandalius. You may refer to me as Vuk, for short..."
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He didn't need to be told that this wasn't exactly an ideal living situation for anyone. He knew that well enough already. But he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't go home, couldn't put his mother through that, couldn't put his friends and loved ones in danger. The boy wasn't even certain if he were dangerous, but he couldn't risk it. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he hurt anyone. "Yeah well...I can't go back there..." His tone melted from one of annoyance to melancholy. He stared down at his bottle, not wanting to meet those mismatched eyes.
"Because I'd rather be called by my name, thas why." Didn't this guy understand that? Surely he felt the same way. He didn't know anyone who didn't want to be called by their name. "I dunno, looks pretty green ta me..." Maybe it was the darkness and the alcohol making him see colors weird? No, that was green, that wasn't yellow. Maybe this guy just forgot what color his own foot was. Whatever, it wasn't important.
Haven watched as the man introduced himself with a little more theatrics than was entirely necessary. The jade-eyed kid gave him a weird look. Where had this guy come from? Man, that name was a mouthful. Especially for someone as drunk as Haven. "I see, well, thin' I'll goes with Vuk. I'll jus' says it wrong otherwise." Where to go from here? Usually that wouldn't have been a problem for him, but the normal Aatte male was buried deep inside.
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He sighed as he set the glass down. Poor simpleton. Oh, well. "Trust me, it's yellow. It just looks green because it's mixed with the black," he retorted, spinning on the stool as he thought about the rest of what Haven had said. Can't go back there? Huh... He squinched his eyes up tightly as he thought, his snout wrinkling with concentration. Why on earth would he not be allowed to go back? Was he banished? Had he killed someone? Oiy, the orange guy seemed like a piece of work. He couldn't even tell yellow from green, and then he was sayign that he lived in an old abandoned bar because he couldn't go home to his pack. Crimson Dreams was the most kind, forgiving pack from what Vukasin had heard from others...
Stopping mid-spin, he looked right at the other guy, face still scrunched in thought. "Why can't you go back? Did they kick you out or something?" He wasn't trying to be rude or to pry, but it seemed to bother the guy, and even in his tipsy state, Vuk was enough himself for his heart to start bleeding the instant someone started to pout, snifle, or frown.
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Haven just shrugged as Vukasin explained about his foot. He really didn't care about the foot. He was just trying to get back at the man for the nickname he had given him. He took another drink of rum. It was the only thing that comforted him anymore. Even the simple thought of searching out any of his family and friends made him sick. He didn't trust himself. Besides, he hated that he knew what his father was. The last thing he wanted to do was to let his sister's know where the other half of their blood came from. Surely they were lucky. They probably got more of Nani's attributes. Brooklyn had her color and Mati had her size. He was cursed to look like their sire.
His faced contorted into a sad frown at the questions. Even though he didn't really want to talk about it, it was better to tell the truth. If he refused to answer this guy would probably think he had done something wrong. He hadn't done anything wrong. That's what he was trying to avoid, keeping himself here. "No, they'd never kick me out. One of my mom's is the Commander." He took another quick drink, hoping it would make it easier. "I can't go back because...my father. I just found out." Haven swallowed hard, a large lump had formed in his throat. "He raped her. He raped my mother. I...I look just like him..."
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And for once in his life, Vukasin had no idea what to say. Alcohol forgotten, he gropped around for words. He found none. "Oiy..." What do you say to that? How do you respond? He couldn't think of how to react, much less how he would react if it were his story. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He'd probably go searching for his brother while wishing his fther wasn't already dead, so tha he could kill him himself. But, his father wasn't a rapist, and he was dead, and Vuk had no idea where his brother was.
After a few minutes of tapping his yellow/green heel against the bar, Vukasin managed to find his tounge again, allowing him to once more employ his voice. "How'd you find out?" Maybe it was dumb thing to ask. What did it matter how the kid found out? It's not like that was important. What wa simportant was that the kid was throwing away his life because he was afraid that he had more than his father's DNA inside of him, that he was capable of the same evil that graced his father's heart.
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His eyes shifted slowly to look at the man with the mismatched eyes, seeing the shock written plain upon his face. He made some sort of noise, it was a noise for there was no word that was uttered. Yeah. That was pretty much the reaction he would have expected. When he had found that out Haven had gotten sick to his stomach, quite literally. He looked as the other man's heel fidgeted on his bar stool. It was clear that the mood in his little hovel had changed dramatically. Before there had been a sort of disdain between the two, but that had changed now. Somehow he was thankful for Vuk's reaction.
Uncomfortably he scratched the back of his neck with one hand. "I was here, in the city. There was this coyote. He said he lived here and I knew my father lived around here somewhere. I knew so little about him so I asked if he knew him and he said he was looking for him. I asked why and...he told me..." Haven bit the inside of his mouth, trying to avoid the horrible sense of loss that had overwhelmed him at the time. "Everyone had told me he was sick. Still...I had no idea it was..." He couldn't bring himself to say that awful word again so he brought the bottle to his lips.
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Vuk thought for a moment. What a thing to find out... And what a way to find out about it. It was a common occurance it their species though, right? Before the virus, at least? He shook his head. It would've made him sick, too, to find out his father was a rapist. He'd've never eaten again.
He looked back up at the orange kid then, watching. Vuk, at least, had forgotten his drink. The kid seemed desperate, hopeless, scared. Scarred, more like. It'd probably haunt him for the rest of his life. It was the kind of thing that hid in the back of your skull, only coming out when you're the most vulnerable, and then hurting more than when you first felt it. But then, it would go away again. Such is the way of life.
"What are you gonna do about it?"
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Everything Vukasin perceived about the Aatte youth was correct. He had always been a confident and happy pup. Sure of himself and that his future was going to be great. Now all of that was gone. His whole world had shattered beneath his paws that day. It had already been crumbling, with finding out that his mothers were no longer together, but that day it had all gone away. It had become ash around him and blown away by a cruel wind. Now he was lost, as lost as he had ever been. He had no future now, at least not as he saw it.
What was he going to do about it? What the hell could he do about it? He had just learned that he was the nearly identical spawn of a rapist bastard. For all he knew he was the same as the man in more than just looks. "I'm going to hide away. Make sure I never hurt anyone." What else could he do? Haven couldn't bare the thought of ever doing such horrible things to anyone. Since he didn't know if he was capable of it the only answer was to lock himself up to make sure that he never got the chance.
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For a moment, Vuk just stared. Hide away...? He burst into laughter. He couldn't help it. How naive was thsi kid? "You... You want to try to hi- hide from it?" he howled, arms wrapped tightly around his torso to stop it from exploding. Tears almost started streaming down his muzzle by the time he managed to get his mirth back under tight control.
After catching his breath, he turned to the kid and tossed a bottle cap at him that had been sitting on the bar. "You seriously think you can just run from something like that? Seriously? Well, you're wrong. Stuff liek that will tear you up, burn you, beat you down, and crush you. You can't blame yourself for stuff like that. You need to seperate yourself from it, yes, but not from your life. Just because something happened that you hate or despise doesn't mean that it was your fault, or that you could have done something to change it. Because you can't, you couldn't. No one could."
[html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... ntable.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Mind wrapping this up?
At the laughter that the dark man suddenly burst into a fire sparked in the youth's eyes. What was so goddamn funny? Nothing! Nothing about his situation was funny and it enraged him that this guy was insensitive enough to laugh at him. It was more than just a small chuckle too, the guy was actually wrapping his arms around his sides and tears were coming from his mismatched eyes. The fur along Haven's spine began to rise and he clenched his jaw. This wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all.
The anger that had begun to well up in his chest made the diatribe Vukasin went off on only white noise to the boy's ears. His fingers grasped his bottle tighter and he simply glared at the man. When his mouth finally decided to shut was when Haven spoke. "Get out." It wasn't a request. His voice was low and menacing, to match his body. He wasn't going to sit here and be laughed at. This wolf needed to leave.
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((No problem))
By this time Vukasin was dead serious. At te tone the boy spoke to him in, he bristled, but all he did was laugh again. Not the same hysterics, but a cold, harsh sound. Picking up the martini glass, he tossed the rest back, still staring at the orange hybrid. "Fine, kid, bu when you're ready to face up to who your family is and the fact that you are not your father, I just hope you haven't already told everyone else to get out. So long, Pumpkin Butt."
Without another word, Vukasin picked up his medic satchel, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out the door. He was about ready to head back to P.V., anyway. He'd had enough alcoholic cavorting in the last three days to last him at least a year. "I could be wrong, of course... Maybe he will turn out like his father, whoever his father is," he said quietly ot himself as he walked away down the street.
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