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Giordano smiled as the lad lost a bit of his control, his emotions tipped into something he could easily use with out even thinking about it. However he did wince at the grip the man had on his hand. A strong fella, probably one reason Aria liked him. But this new feeling, the sadness in him, it was going to be a join to play with. "Careful now, lets not break this old man." He was sure to include the smile that said it was a joke.
His grip loosened but Giordano used the lingering touch to share a few more moments of sadness, depression and everything that would make a man want to drink. A drink might loosen his lips a little more, might spill far more than he was now. He had a plan of action. But Giordano knew it was more than just the emotions he would need.
He'd asked specifically about his lost child, trying to reconnect with her. He lied with a frown on his face, the sadness in his voice, the same sadness that radiated from his body, where ever this man would touch while he was doing his work. "Sadly, her mother took her from me. I never got to know her. I hope this will ease the transition. Show some compassion for what she's been through. I only want to make things right."
Giordano told a few more sad stories and continued with the treatment he's started.
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Lucas shook his head as he tried clear his head. The man smiled and made a joke, for which he was grateful. But the feelings didn't go away. Suddenly, it was like he could see his father there that last day. He'd woken him up while he was in bed coming off a high, everything harsher and intensified because of the drug. His father's face was red and furious and spit flew from his mouth as he yelled at him and grabbed his hair to drag him out of his room.
Lucas had fought back but his father was a big man and he was still weak from the last hit. His father's fists had driven the air from his lungs with a violent punch and he had thrown up. His father went off on him, then, calling him a whore and other names that said exactly what he though of him. Finally, he'd dragged him to the door and threw him out into the hallway. The neighbors in the apartment building hadn't done anything.
Bloody, he'd stumbled and crawled his way down the stairs and out onto the street. He got to the alley and behind the fire-escape stairs found some boxes. He just needed to lie down and sleep, to escape this pain.
With a snap, Lucas realized he was just standing there. The piece wasn't done and he'd not heard much of what the man said. Inside, that empty place had become a yawning chasm and he just wanted a drink.
He settled back to work and tried to finish as fast as he could. For the first time in years, he could feel the beast breathing down his neck and he didn't care. He needed something badly.
To the man he made minimal conversation now, just grunting and nodding his head.
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Giordano felt the spiral go deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole, he smiled with glee, the man fell, and he fell fast, his demons, whatever they were, were taking him farther into his grasp. Almost.
Giordano continued to ply Lucas with emotions and sad stories, he was non-committal, nods and the vaguest of something here and there. Nothing that said he was listening, but Giordano was more than pleased with his work.
It took a lot longer to get the tattoo this way, but Giordano was in pure heaven, the manipulation was something he missed while trying to keep his family safe from the Atharim. He tried not to let his anger seethe, the depression and the sadness had to flow.
When the last inking was done Giordano looked up at his masterpiece and smiled. "You look like you could use a drink. I know this great little bar just a hop skip and a jump from here. Care to join me?"
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By the time Lucas finished his hands were shaking. It wasn't his best work but he just couldn't seem to concentrate. Painful images from his past had kept coming to him, overwhelming him, and it was all he could do not to throw the gun down and run.
He didn't even bother cleaning his gun. All he could think about was trying to get away from whatever it was that was stalking him in his mind. It was like a dam had burst and the waters crashed into the canyon, twisting and turning so that no matter how hard he ran, what direction he took, he couldn't get away from it.
A drink. Yes, a drink sounded good. Better than good. God. What is wrong with me? A small voice tried to tell him that getting a drink was a bad idea. But he was past caring.
He sighed to the old man. "Yeah. I need a drink."
He got his jacket, went to the door and shut off the lights. He opened the door and waited for the old man to walk out before he turned around and locked it.
"Lead the way."
He really didn't care where the guy wanted to go. He just wanted a drink.
Vaguely, all of this seemed familiar to him but he couldn't figure out why.
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Giordano smiled as he pulled on his fur-lined coat. The warm of it was familiar as he walked out into the cold Moscow air. He was filled with pride, his masterpiece was at its peak and he was almost beaming with the pride. His downfall he was sure was his ego, but Girodano had very little care or concern for that at this particular point.
The bar was a bit more upscale, Giordano wasn't going to to go to just any bar. It was near the Kremlin, he was sure that the hotty toddy government folks frequented it on their nightly adventures. But it wasn't so upscale that just anyone couldn't get in. It had the perfect flavor to it. The name escaped him, Giodrano didn't care. He'd come here the night he'd shot Aria not too long ago. That girl was a piece of work, and her boyfriend easily manipulated. He wondered at the reasons she was close to him. Maybe now with the spiraling affect he could find out exactly what they meant to one another.
Giordano sat down at the bar and ordered whatever was on tap. He wasn't here to drown his sorrows, no, he was here to pull and play the strings of this Lucas. He smiled as Lucas ordered a shot, he hadn't actually caught exactly what he'd ordered, it didn't matter, his choice in drink came in the form of something strong and very fast working. The lad was playing so very easily into his hands.
Giordano sipped at his beer and turned his seat to face Lucas. He was about to say something but a woman sat down next to Lucas, her hair fiery red, hiding behind a warm scarf. Long legs that had to be freezing under the short skirt she wore. She removed her coat and laid it over the bar stool, and ordered a frufru drink, she hadn't cared, as long as it came with an umbrella she said. The look on her face was soft, but Giordano felt the predatory nature underneath. She was looking for something, and apparently Lucas fit that bill. She turned to him with a pouty look. "Do you have a lighter?" She tapped the carton of cigarettes on her hand. Every movement of her body spoke to the ends she wished to achieve, a slight touch of the hand, a turn of her head, a casual flick of the hair, everything said clearly wanted more than just a lighter, but anything to strike a conversation he supposed. Giordano turned back to the bar and watched things play out.
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Lucas threw back the shot. God it was so good. He'd forgotten that flavor, the burn down to your chest as it went down, the way your cheeks flushed and you took a deep breath and your heart kind of slowed and your mind sort of lifted just a bit, expanded just a bit, the edges becoming a little faded and you relaxed and wondered where in God's name this has been for the last two years, this sweet sweet drink that made life bearable, that chased away the pain and the memories, numbed them and dug a pit and buried them and you could finally have peace.
That first shot down he could look at the old man again, could focus and not feel overwhelmed. The guy was looking at him curiously and for a moment that familiarity came back to him. He'd gotten into a car with a man he didn't know. Just like he had so many times before. The though sickened him, knowing what that had meant. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror at the bar and saw someone he hadn't seen in years.
He felt himself go weak at the thought, tried to figure out what he was doing. Part of him knew he should go. Two years of being sober down the drain. But a part of him didn't care, now that he felt that relaxation. It said to stay. He could be careful. He wasn't the junkie he used to be. He ordered another shot of rum and sipped at it.
The man started to say something but he turned as a woman sat down. She was very attractive in that tight red dress and he found himself staring at her for a moment until she said something. Asked for a light.
Something woke in him. Guilt. Aria's face flashed to his mind. He got a hold of himself and answered her with an apologetic smile. "No, sorry. I don't"
He shifted in his seat so he wasn't facing the woman but not turning his back to her either. He felt trapped. He was starting to regret this whole thing.
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Giordano smiled, he was trying to to be too obvious about it, but he was giving the girl the cold shoulder. Which could mean many things, but if he was part of his daughters life chances are it meant only one thing, he was at least interested. He wondered about it and nodded towards the girl. "Someone waiting at home, hate to miss a strumpet like that."
Lucas shrugged and said, "Sort of."
"Sort of doesn't mean you give a girl like THAT the cold shoulder. I'd think it's more than sort of." Giordano wasn't sure how far to push for their relationship, but he needed to know if he could use Lucas for his purposes.
Lucas took another sip and appeared to think before answering. Finally, "Well, we're friends. Maybe more than friends."
He looked at him and then went on. "You know how it is. You meet someone and there's chemistry. A spark. A connection. Whatever you want to call it."
He tilted his head to the side for a moment and smiled. "Yeah. She's special to me."
Another sip. "I think she feels the same way but we haven't talked about it. I don't want to rush things with her."
He laughed to himself softly. "She's got...issues I guess you could say. A messed up family I bet. I just want her to feel safe with me before we go any further."
Giordano wanted to laugh, but he didn't. Messed up family? A dead mother, a father who well, hated her, wished she was dead, brothers and sisters who don't even know she really exists. Raised by an organization who wants her dead. Messed up was an understatement. "You don't think she feels safe? You own that business don't you? Son, we all got issues." He definitely had his answer though, he felt something for her. He wondered what useful information he could get from him, how much did he know. "But if she's got worse issues than you, what's keeping you around? She that amazing?"
Lucas didn't look at him and didn't answer for a moment. He just looked at the glass in his hand. "Yeah, I think she is. I mean I don't know her that well. Really, I don't know her at all."
He took a sip and let it go down. "But I think there's potential, with her. Potential for something good between us."
Giordano nodded, he was in it, which could provide leverage, she was Sentient, unloved, uncared for, he could only imagine that was the case in an organization like the Atharim. She craved people, human touch. Lucas was definitely more than just a friend to her. He smiled, he knew he could use this to his advantage. He probably wouldn't even have to lay a finger on his pretty little head. But he wouldn't hesitate if he had to. "Tell me about her, if you don't mind me asking. It's been a long time since I've heard of young love. Might help me understand the daughter I'm trying to reconnect with. She's found a first love."
But before he could answer, a phone rang. Giordano patted his fur coat down and found his wallet, it wasn't his. He looked over at Lucas who was also fumbling for his phone.
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Lucas wasn't really sure what to say about Aria. He didn't know her that well, really. There was no denying the connection they had. Very easily, it could have been just about sex. But there was something about her that made him want more from this.
Maybe it was the pain and isolation with which she'd grown up with. He understood that. Maybe it was because there was just something in him that could not stop rooting and feeling for a person struggling with demons. His reaction was visceral, uncontrolled, when he saw that kind of thing. He would bend over backwards to help such a person. Someone doing that for him had saved him. Every person he helped felt like he was really also helping himself.
The feel of the glass in his hand called to him and the magnitude of where he was- and more importantly what he was doing- struck him. He was drinking. Fear lanced through his body and the blood drained from his face. He was in the exact worse place he could be. The fuzziness around his mind only heightened his terror.
What the hell was he doing there? What had happened to him? He just didn't understand. From the moment this man had come into the shop he just couldn't stop feeling so badly. It gnawed at the edges of his mind, sucking him below the surface before he was able to come up for air, only to pull him down again. And the only thing he could think of to make it stop was a drink.
He had to get out of here. Now! He fumbled for his wallet, to cover his tab when it started ringing. Aria! A sense of shame came over him but he fought it down. He was through being pulled under. He clung to the thought of her, that she needed his help. It didn't matter how he felt, now more than ever. Perhaps even because he was in this state, he needed to be there for someone, to get back to who he was, a life jacket to keep him above surface. "Hello?"
"Lucas, It's Aria. I need a favor."
It was what he expected. A lifeline to pull him out. "You have no idea how glad I am that you called. What is it?"
He could hear Aria take a deep breath before she started. "I need you to come pick me and uh... a friend up. It's cold, and she's in bad shape.
He thought for a moment. He had only finished the one drink. And was half-way through the other. He definitely felt a bit of a buzz but thought he was ok to drive. Then again, it didn't matter. He needed to get out of there and this was his chance. "No problem. Send your location and I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Thanks, I appreciate it."
Aria sent the GPS location to his wallet. "Again, thanks."
He switched off and looked at the old man. "I have to go help a friend out. Hope you are happy with the piece. And that things work out with your daughter."
He stood and offered his hand in a shake.
Giordano smiled and nodded. He stood up and took Lucas hand and pulled him closer, and put his other around around him in a gesture of friendship and whispered. "Do tell Aria I'm coming for her."
Lucas stumbled back, looking at the man in surprise, his mind tryign to make sense of the words. "What?"
was all he could say.
Giordano's smile widened. "When you see my daughter again, just tell her I'm coming for her." He grabbed his coat and pulled it on and smiled again clasping Lucas on the shoulder as he passed. He sent fear, but not just any kind, the worse kind, the kind that promised death and was filled with hatred. "Been a pleasure my boy."
Giordan walked out of the bar with a smile on his face and resonating pride at the peice of work he had just finished.
Lucas barely had time to think about the man's words when suddenly he was overwhelmed with fear and every bad memory of his life all at once. It seemed to last for an eternity as he struggled to find his way out of this hell, like he was being chased from room to room and each time he went into a new one, old familiar horrors presented themselves.
He was not aware that he had falled to the ground, knocking over a table, or that someone was helping him up, asking him if he was ok. He was not aware that people were looking at him and that more than one person had their wallet out dialing the police.
Finally, when he came to, it had seemed like forever had passed but really had only been a minute. Breathless, all he could say was "I'm sorry. Sorry about that."
He was still shaken and could barely focus.
Aria. The name pulled at him. He needed to go to her now. Now more than ever. She had the answers. But he knew he couldn't drive. It wasn't the drink. He was far to shaken emotionally to concentrate. To the bartender, "Can you call me a cab?"
<small>continued in What Comes After a Fall</small>
Edited by Lucas, Nov 20 2014, 11:42 AM.
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