Tybalt flops down on the floor, pulling a bottle of wine out of his hoodie. He uncaps it and begins drinking, adding to the already pungent stench of booze. Settling my gaze on Mongrel, I speak quietly. "Put your guard down. If he was gonna do something...you know you'd be dead already." The Gangrel's attention focuses on Tybalt, his thumb tracing the metal of his gun "... Maddie, are you okay?" His voice has a protective sort of growl to it, drawing a twinge from deep in my chest. This is going to be a fun night. I swallow unnecessarily, before settling onto the carpet beside Tybalt. Glancing up at Mongrel, I respond "I'm fine." before turning my concern to the plastered Lasombra at my side. His eyes are glassy, his expression distraught. Even the shadows are him seem to stagger and falter. Tybalt looks very pointedly at the Gangrel. "Were you involved in it? They melted his fucking car. I can't even bury him because his ashes are fused to the metal." I flinch, hoping Mongrel gives an answer that won't lead to bloodshed. "Who? Hanzel? No. I had nothing to do with that." He eases up from his crouch and allows his coat to drape again. The guarded snarl quickly faded into a joyous one as he flung himself at the Tybalt and pulls the seated Lasombra into an embrace, "It's true! You're alive!" He visibly stiffens, pushing at Mongrel."Get. Off. What the FUCK makes you think I want to be hugged by Pyotr's personal fucking hatchetman?!" he snarls. He makes the attempt to stand. It doesn't work. Probably for the better. "Easy Tybalt" I put my hand on his shoulder, exerting only enough pressure to keep him seated, while still offering consolation. Tybalt takes a deep, purposeful breath, and much to my relief, nods.
Mongrel looks hurt but detaches himself and stands, taking several steps back. His face becomes unreadable. "...fair enough." He looks me over, and I see through his attempt to keep his expression blank. I turn my eyes away from his concern. Tybalt points a wavering finger at the Gangrel. "Don't go anywhere. I didn't text you to bitch you out for something you didn't do." I furrow my brow, looking to Tybalt as he continues."I'm a bit..." Well, damn. I guess Tybalt snitched on me. "You texted..." I let my words trail off with a huff. I can feel Mongrel's eyes boring into me, even before I meet his gaze. "So, you almost walked into the sun?" There is no emotion in his voice, and I can't help but sigh, loudly. I ignore Tybalt's off putting chuckle beside me, and give a non-committal shrug. The laughter just as quickly leaves Tybalt's voice as he warns, "You need to get her out of town, Mongrel. The Russian is killing people for associating with me." Both Mongrel and I disregard his words, continuing our stare down."Uhuh. And you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself..." there is a tinge of anger in his voice but he retains his poker face. I exhale loudly, grabbing Tybalt's bottle and taking a hefty swig. "I'm still alive, aren't I?" No thanks to.. I cut that thought off, pleased by Tybalt's brief distraction. "Ummmm...sure. Have a drink, Maddie." I smile a little, replying "Thanks" I take another swallow from the bottle as Tybalt fishes his cigarettes from his pocket. I hold the bottle in my lap, watching him try to light one. "Madre de noche...." he throws the lighter at me. "Light this damn thing. Wine tax." I scowl, but do so, keeping one hand wrapped around the neck of the wine bottle. Mongrel turns a cool gaze to Tybalt, "You know that now that I know this I am obligated to kill both of you?" His voice falters on the last few words. His stoic face fails and all of his emotion shows through. Sighing heavily, he continues, "Which is why I could use one of those too." Mongrel goes into the kitchen and returns with a mason jar filled with clear liquid.
"Empty night... obviously I've had more than I thought I did." Tybalt shakes his his head, struggling to get his lighter back in his pocket. He looks to Mongrel as he reenters the room, "Yeah. Obligated." His words are bitter. I take another drink, feeling the tension in the room and shuddering."Get your head out of your ass, Mongrel. You're working for a fucking monster." Mongrel crosses the room, sitting down against the wall and taking a sip from the jar, his voice is calm, "You know what, Tybalt. Go fuck yourself." Great. Now they're slinging insults like a bunch of teenagers. I stare down the neck of the wine bottle, mumbling to myself."Oh...this should be fun." Mongrel continues in an undertone, "I've had just about enough of the two of you- Tybalt and Pyotr. Fucking children sometimes." Tybalt laughs again, that same, off-putting laugh. "A bit too late for that, don't you think? I'm pretty fucked already." The both of them continue, talking over each other.
"How's that? You're still alive, ain'tcha?"
"But do go on. Tired of us, you were saying?" I rub my face vigorously, their intertwining voices setting me on edge. Mongrel quiets down as Tybalt carries on. ".... for now." He's not wrong. I don't voice my opinion aloud. Mongrel's voice becomes soft, his eyes are sad, "This city is falling. I don't know how I-" Tybalt motions for me to pass the bottle. I pout, briefly, taking another sip before passing it over. He takes a long drink and sets it between us.
It's uncomfortably quiet for a moment. I sigh. "S'not the city that's failing...it's the people in it." Tybalt looks to me, an almost insulting expression of surprise on his face. "Might be the most truthful thing I've heard in awhile." My lips twitch up in a smile, remembering Pyotr's words. "I'm apparently shockingly insightful at times.." Mongrel frets, "How are we suppose to survive against all that assails us if the clans are constantly at odds with each other?" He smiles at me, and all of the sudden my smile feels brittle. I drop my head slightly. "And you are very often insightful, Mad--" He flinches and takes a swig. I sneak a glance at him from under the fringe of my bangs."Malkavian here, and I'm rarely at odds with anyone." Mongrel speaks softly, "Peace offering?" He closes the lid on the jar and rolls it across the floor to Tybalt and I. My head cocks to the side, Tybalt is whispering something, almost inaudible. "...out of...shut up...leave..." He doesn't seem to be speaking to either Mongrel or I. Mongrel glances at him curiously, "Though it seems Mr. Tybalt is a bit uh..." I snap my gaze to Tybalt, watching him carefully. "Who are you talking to, Tybalt?" He squeezes his eyes shut, hard. "Get the FUCK out of my head, you diablerist piece of shit!" Mongrel stands, on guard again. I keep my eyes on the Lasombra, head cocked, almost feeling sympathy pains. "...only one diablerist piece of shit I know." I glance at Mongrel again, accusingly. "shoulda let me kill him." Tybalt seems to get under control. "...the alcohol helps. It makes it easier for me to make him leave." I look at Tybalt sympathetically. "...sucks not being alone in there, doesn't it?" From the corner of my eye, I see that Mongrel relaxes a bit and leans against the wall, arms folded. He looks back at me. "There's one that I don't mind being up there, and if she knew how drunk I was right now..." I smile, kindly, cutting him off. "...she'd probably understand." He laughs again, and I'm relieved when it's a normal Tybalt chuckle. "Yeah. She understands everything else. Hanzel was teasing me about her for weeks. Apparently she was getting the same sort of thing from Marcus." He grins. "Everyone knew but us, apparently." My return smile falters a bit, and I fight the urge to look at Mongrel."It's always good to have someone like that." Tybalt's eyes narrow, he doesn't miss the falter. Damn it.
From across the room, Mongrel clears his throat, "Well then, if Maddie isn't going for a walk in the sunshine any time soon and you're not on fire, I think I'll go. Sorry for the intrusion." His voice is gruff. Before he can step away, Tybalt points to the Gangrel. "And thatsh why...madre de noche I did NOT just slur. That. Is. Why. I. Texted. You." I look down at the floor without a response. I don't want to hear this. Mongrel pauses, "...pardon?" Tybalt's voice is stern. Hardened. "Walking out that door is a poor decision, Mongrel. I'm not going to stop you from doing it, but I will tell you that it's a poor decision." I start getting that caged animal feeling, and fight the urge to dash off into the bedroom."And what... do you expect me to do?" Mongrel says through gritted teeth. I slowly rise to my feet, mumbling something about my iPod, which is clearly sitting on the floor next to me. Tybalt's next question stalls me, and I can't help but flinch. "Do you love her?" Mongrel is quiet for a moment. Too quiet. I know I should walk away. "What, have you taken up couples counseling, Tybalt?" The Lasombra doesn't back down. "I've taken up not letting other people make dumb mistakes unless I don't like them." Mongrel snarls and whips around, spitting his words at Tybalt. "DO NOT presume to know how I feel or... what is right for me." He looks to me, "...OR her." I just want to disappear at this point. I stare at my feet, willing them to sink into the floor as Tybalt continues his tirade. "I'm pretty sure that things that lead to her wanting to get a suntan aren't really right. Just my opinion, but suit yourself." I finally speak, keeping my voice low in attempt to hide the pain in it."Tybalt, just...It's OK. Just let it go. I've gotta...I'm just going to go...pee." I shuffle my feet forward few steps, knowing both men are watching me. "...fucking masochist." I mumble to myself before turning around and sitting back down.
The Lasombra raises an eyebrow slightly. I square my shoulders, lifting my chin in a pantomime of bravely that I don't feel. Mongrel growls and locks eyes with Tybalt, and they both grow silent. I note their concentration, and casually pick at the carpet. At least now I don't have to actually hear them talking about me like I'm not here. I catch Mongrel wiping at his eyes before he escapes to the kitchen with a quiet whimper. He returns with another jar of liquor, slumping against the wall with a burdened look upon his face. I twist the cord of my headphones around my finger, playing oblivious even as Tybalt walks over to Mongrel, offering his own bottle. He sighs, as they continue a conversation I can't hear. Fiddling with my iPod, it briefly switches on. A snippet of song pours into the silence.
"How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace
When I stand here taking every breath with you, ooh
You're the only one who really knew me at all"
I click it off in a hurry, glancing up to see the pair's attention on me. Tybalt moves towards the door with a sense of forced casualty. "I think I'm going to go stretch my legs a bit, maybe burn some of this out of my system." I try to meet his eyes, shaking my head slightly. He ignores me, stumbling slightly. "Madre de noche. Ok, maybe more than some." He finally meets my gaze. "I'll be on the porch,"
Resting my elbow on my knee, I place my chin in my hand, feeling nervous. Mongrel waits until Tybalt is gone before asking in a quiet voice, "Why'd you do it, Maddie?" I jerk my shoulders up into a shrug. "Didn't do it. Just...tried." For the first time that night, my name sounds comfortable on his lips. Some of the tension leaves my face. "Want me to leave?... I won't tell anyone he was here." Christ. How the fuck does he expect me to answer that? "You want honest, painfully honest or a lie?" I don't look up. "...whichever you're willing to give." I sigh. "No." I say quietly. Even quieter "...never." His voice is sorrowful when he replies. "I can't save you, Maddie." I finally look at him, keeping my gaze below his nose, not meeting his eyes. "Never thought you would." I never asked you to, either. Mongrel continues, the pain in his words cuts me like a knife. "I'm making it worse by staying and trying to." I almost want to stomp my foot in outrage. He really doesn't get it. Stupid Gangrel. I meet his eyes, speaking firmly. "Then why don't you stop trying to save me and just...accept that I'm going to have to save myself." I add on, as a grudging afterthought:"And double realize that I can't do that...without you." Guess I should start accepting that I can be saved, in the first place. He looks at me in awe and giving me a small smile, "I know that now, Madelyn." Just as quickly, the smile is gone, "I know. I know. Which is why.... I need to. Please." I tilt my head to the side, not understanding. Mongrel straightens up and collects himself, "Which is why I need to save myself for once." I furrow my brow, keeping quiet. "As I said before, I will be around if you need me, I won't betray you or Tybalt willingly. That's all I can offer you right now. If you say that you don't need saving, I will take you at your word." I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I take what is likely a visible effort to attempt a smile before nodding at Mongrel. "Oh. OK. Sorry I...or, we dragged you into this." He winces as he watches me, it's obvious he doesn't want to leave just yet."You didn't." I give a non-committal shrug. "Well, don't risk getting yourself in trouble for protecting us. It's probably inevitable that..." That I'll meet an untimely demise sooner, or later. "Just don't get killed cuz of me."
A momentary flash of light comes through the open door, followed by Spanish cursing, and the smell of burnt hair wafting into the room from outside. Mongrel chuckles briefly, "Too late for that." before rushing outside. I hear him inquire, "You alright? Tybalt?" and the sound of him stomping out a cigarette. I stay seated, yelling towards the door. "Don't you mess up that blue!" My words are more jovial than my mood, and I angrily swipe tears from my eyes while the two speak, outside. Cocking my ear to the open doorway, I eavesdrop as I sniffle to myself. Tybalt's voice drifts in, sounding forlorn. "No. No I'm not, Mongrel. I've got a Malkavian in my head making me do things I don't remember, a dead friend, a lover I'm scared to death for, another friend I'm worried about, and to top it off I can't seem to smoke correctly. I've had better nights." Mongrel's voice trails in, just as downtrodden. "If it's alright with you both, I'd like to just spend time with you before I go. I don't know when I might see you again, especially if a certain Nosferatu manages to break into my head again... though I have put up some mental blocks." Tybalt sighs. "In the end, all we have is this: people. People we care about. The titles and the status and the pretty words, they don't keep the beast at bay....." he pauses, "I'm rambling." I hear a grin in Mongrel's voice as he replies, "Finish your smoking and get in here, you ass." The same smile is heard in the Lasombra's voice. "Tell you what. You can stay if you smack me when I start rambling."
They both wander in, Mongrel is smirking."Don't tempt me. Just might." I nonchalantly wipe my hand on my shirt, the dark smear of red is barely visible, to my relief. Tybalt glances at me, "Oh, maybe you shouldn't. If anyone messes up her art project," he points to his head, "she might get mad at us." I give a half smile. "I know you can't see it, but trust me, it looks great." We're all quiet for a moment, and I pick at the already threadbare carpet some more. Mongrel breaks the silence."Alright well... since we have tonight, and I have you both for a bit..." He smiles at both Tybalt and I, sadly as though we might suddenly disappear. Tybalt gets a thoughtful look on his face, and then asks, "Can either of you draw?" Reminiscing, I answer, "I can't, unless you count those pictures on the wall when we were locked in your basement..." The Lasombra snorts, wine dripping from his nose. I jerk my thumb over to Mongrel, as he answers,"I can." Very quietly, Tybalt asks, "Would...you, please?" Mongrel nods enthusiastically. "What would you like? My better sketch book is at...but I have another in my old room. Something of the two of you?" Tybalt shakes his head, "...no. I just..." he sighs, "I want something to give to Test, before..." He looks away. I look at my friend sadly, before nailing him in the arm with a punch. "Ow." He rubs at his arm, looking surprised. I just shrug. Mongrel walks from the room, I hear him shuffling around in the closet before he reenters with a sketchbook. He flips to an open page, settling down in front of Tybalt. "Ohhh... right. Well, hold still then. Tilt your chin a bit up? Yes." His pencil scratches against the paper, and the sound is soothing. I watch Tybalt at first, but I can't help when my gaze turns to, and lingers on Mongrel as he sketches, taking an occasional sip of moonshine.
The evening goes on in such a ridiculously domestic manner. Like three old friends...hell -like three Kine- even, we chat casually, only lightly grazing subjects that touch on the real problem at hand. Things like Tybalt being a wanted fugitive, and my aiding a criminal. Things like the fact that Pyotr will likely have all three of killed, come next sunset. Mongrel sketches, and Tybalt drinks, and for the time being, we're safe.
