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The words were final. They left him deflated and defeated. Nox gave a final nod. ”Bye.” He whispered slumping against the wall and letting it all go. His elbow dug into his thighs and his head shook in his hands. He cried silent sobs.
Fucking everything he touched.
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Any Scandinavian might have been honored with the comparison, but Seven bowed his head in recognition of referring to them as Vikings. He adored the mythology and modern interpretations, but for a house who trailed its descendants more than a thousand years, he knew exactly who his ancestors were. It was said the first king of Sweden was from the blood of gods. Therefore, the comparison was accurate, and Seven was honored. He raised his glass, and helped correct the close toast’s pronunciation happily with more spirits.
One second they were chatting about meat, and Seven took the initiative to go ahead and place a few orders. He enjoyed Jay’s company, and found himself willing to talk at length on any subject. The next, Jay moved in a flash and Seven could only barely comprehend with the confrontation that followed such was its swiftness and ferocity.
He saw the flash of electricity before it came close to anyone. “I’m sure that’s not necessary,” he stepped up to try and position himself between the staff and the two men. “Stop,” he said but he failed to save either of them. It wrenched his stomach to knots to watch them both fall.
He was aware when they came that Almaz was not particularly safe. Fights broke out more than once in the past. Though Seven did not recollect such stringent control measures. The edge of fighting was precisely why he chose to bring Jay here this night, but he specifically intended to keep his guest on the periphery of violence, not drop him straight into it.
He should not have been surprised that the floor opened like the gaping maws of a beast to swallow up the commotion. His concern smoothed itself away when next he was noticed, and he followed the rest of the crowd downstairs to watch how the situation unfolded.
Blood and glorious battle did not ruffle his feathers. It wasn’t the beating that made Seven consider the proximity previously shared with his new acquaintance. As the fight went on, money flew like birds through the audience. Seven did not wager either way. He was too engrossed in the outcome and the flaring of Runes to consider otherwise.
They were both spectacularly matched. The wagers reflected as much, but it indeed seemed as if it was one-sided. The shield of defensiveness was quick to spring from one. Microphones embedded in the pit highlighted every audible taunt, much to the amusement of the audience. A picture quickly formed for Seven, of why the two men were so viscerally engaged. He knew of nothing so heated as the betrayal of friends.
When the fight concluded, Seven cheered along with the rest of his audience goers. He added to the ongoing cavalcade of revelries, reflections and replays. But when he caught his window, he slipped away, seeking the exits from which the pits regurgitated their combatants.
He found Jay at one such exit. The man was not so badly wounded as he had imagined to encounter. He breathed a sigh of relief. “You didn’t warn me that it was going to be me who would be enjoying the entertainment. I think you’ve earned that cheeseburger,” he opened an arm to wrap the other man’s shoulder and guide him upward. He’d not probe for explanation nor inquire about the aftermath unless Jay offered it first.
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01-19-2023, 02:58 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-19-2023, 03:35 AM by Jay Carpenter.)
Somehow, his legs kept going. Carried him away from the crash of a friend against the wall. He didn’t look back. Couldn't. No reaction but for the flex of his fists at his sides. There was no token to grasp for comfort. The pockets felt empty, like there should be something at the hip that gave all this meaning. At one point, he wiped his face of spit and sweat and Nox's blood spattering his skin. His own trickled from one ear. The only apparent injury. Though his arm arched as he walked. His knuckles were on fire. Nothing he hadn’t felt before. There were plenty of holes in bedroom walls over the years.
The power threaded fire through his veins. It very nearly ripped the door off its hinges when he left the tunnels. Or maybe it did. He didn’t really take the time to notice. Nor look at the scream that shrieked behind his back when it did.
He wanted to scream. To throw fists through walls and numb his knuckles to the wrist. What was worse was he still didnt know whose face he pounded in that picture. Nox’s? Or his own?
That’s how he found Seven. Soul cracked, already hanging by the last hinge. He just looked through him at first. Didn’t see the person that brought him here. Just a figure. A shadow of something that he thought should be meaningful. Instead, it was empty.
The joke turned the tension a little. And he met his eye.
A draw of the breath he’d held since he breathed the shitstorm that was goodbye the only sign. Splintered. Head pounding.
A grunt when Seven’s arm wrapped his shoulder. That was the side he tumbled on when the floor dropped out under him. But it wasn’t so much more than the ache down to the gut. And he let the other guy lead him away. But he didn’t care where. Cheeseburgers no longer sounded like a good idea.
Only darkness shows you the light.