Inbox for TLV

[bartenderbitch]

"Yeah, yeah, leave a message and I'll get back to you at some point."

[Text | Voice | Video | Action]

Comments

[reargunner]

Prison on the colonies is... it's bad.

[He shrugs. Not that he has anything to compare it to, but he knows it's bad. His voice is still steady, but... distant. A little cold.]

New Volga Correctional Facility. They don't separate you out by severity, or whatever. I fought to make sure everyone knew not to fuck with me, 'cause the only way you get out in one piece is by stepping on everyone else.

[bartenderbitch]

[Oh, he knows what that tone of voice is and he's just going to wiggle his way out of the arm hold and ear rubbing to squirm his way into his lap and face him now. Which is still awkward in the end of things, but he doesn't really care at the moment.]

Well, that shit don't matter now. You're here and you ain't going back to that fucking shithole. What happened then, what you did back then doesn't fucking mean shit as that ain't you now, yeah? [Pot. Kettle.]

[reargunner]

[He blinks. Meets Husk's eyes without hesitation.]

What I did - everything I've done - isn't something I can just ignore.

[And he's always known that, as much as the feeling ebbs and grows depending on how he feels and how close the memory of everything is.]

But— [The box snaps closed with a smart click and he puts it aside, sitting up and resting both hands on the demon's thighs.] It's not here, or now, and... I don't have to do any of it here.

[bartenderbitch]

[Honestly, he didn't expect that particular reaction.]

I didn't say to ignore it. Just that if it's shit you did back then it doesn't define you now if you don't want it to or if it doesn't define you. You learn from your fuckin' mistakes and you take it and go, shit scars and scars are forever there to remind you.

[He calms somewhat at the hands resting on his thighs, uncurling his tail from his waist to let it flick behind him steadily instead.]

Exactly. You utterly smug asshole. [... He meant that affectionately and to lighten the mood a little, at least.]

[reargunner]

[Cain looks up at him and then shifts to move his knees apart, quickly enough to have Husk suddenly dropping down to sit between them if he's not alert enough to stop it.]

Good advice. Gonna take it for yourself too?

[bartenderbitch]

[Unfortunately, the cat-bird is much too engrossed in what he's saying to notice that sudden shift and yelps in surprise before he realizes what's happened and fake pouts at him instead. Especially with that question.]

Fuck no.

[reargunner]

[Cain grins at him.]

You should. It was actually pretty smart. [Silly cat. He pats his hands against Husk's legs.]

Y'no, when I got here, I was furious at everything. Felt like a fucking joke. And I was— Well. It's a prison, isn't it. You can take an easy guess what I was thinking.

[bartenderbitch]

Sometimes I got good advice, even if I don't take it myself. [He's not moving from his spot at least, even if he's being a huffy grumpy kitty about being put down between his legs like that now. How utterly rude.]

Yeah, you ain't... wrong on that front. There's a lot of freedom for a lot of shit, but at the end of the day you're still considered on the bottom of the totem pole and still being "wardened" or whatever-the-fuck. [Oh, his expression slides into an almost cheeky grin, that's not a good sign.] Though seems more like you're managing to express that whole dominance over wardens thing pretty well in your own way.

[reargunner]

[Snort.]

Shut the fuck up.

[But. True. What a warden is here is an oddly nebulous thing and Cain has strong opinions on some of those that hold the rank, considering their position to be entirely undeserved.]

I was trying to make a point, asshole. [He scritches into the fur on Husk's thighs.] I was pissed off, but I was scared too. Could see real quick that the things I know how to do in prison were just gonna get me killed here.

[A shrug.]

Didn't know what to do with myself for a while, but I figured it out. And you will as well.

[bartenderbitch]

[In theory he should be offended, but instead he laughs at being told to shut the fuck up. Who is he to actually obey when he's told to do something if he doesn't have to? Pft.

Though he honestly hates that he's correct in that assumption, that he could figure out what he'd do while he's here, to rebuild or do... whatever the fuck it is that he wants to do. The whole thing gets a huff out of him and him attempting to nuzzle into his neck with a threat of teeth against his neck as if he were going to bite. But he doesn't, merely snorting against his skin.]

I ain't worth the time or effort to be worrying about, Alexei, trust me on that.

[reargunner]

[The nudging and almost-nip get a soft 'oi' out of him as he wraps an arm around the demon and snickers softly at his behaviour.]

Look, I'm just warning you. You're gonna get people here who give a shit about you and they're gonna be really, really fucking persistent and annoying about it.

[(Affectionate.)]

And they're gonna care and ask if you're doing okay and check in on you when stupid Barge shit is happening because they actually worry about you. [Cain gently digs his fingertips against Husk's ribs.]

And you're gonna have to get used to it.

[bartenderbitch]

[Sometimes he is absolutely far more cat than he lets on, especially since he's finding far too much amusement in teasing like this, especially while deciding that it's totally worth licking said neck just to prove a point. What point is it? Don't question him, there was a point there somewhere underneath all the purring.]

Yeah? You gonna be part of that group of people that are gonna care and ask if I'm doing okay and checking in on me and shit? [He is absolutely stepping up to this totally obvious challenge, even if it's not that in the slightest.] You trying to tell me you got a soft spot underneath all of it and that you have feelings? Fucking gross and degenerate, how dare you. [... Who says he can't pretend to clutch pearls he doesn't and has never had?]

I'm just some old sinner that ain't about to be redeemed and forever stuck in Hell, I'm just the lowest of the low trash on the trash pile~

[reargunner]

Ugh, feelings? How dare you accuse me of something like that.

[But yes, maybe he does, and maybe he does care, which is why he has this idiot demon sat on his lap and stuck against his neck like a massive house cat.

He wraps both arms around Husk and rolls them both, flipping him onto his back and leaning over him.]

You're not in Hell right now. Or didn't you notice?