Private Summer Wine [M]
- Thread starter Walter Thornley
- Start date
"Takes two for something like that to fail," Walter echoed. "If a gold-digging consort swindles one out of family money, at least it is easy to point out where failure lies. Matters of the heart? Oh, wily matters of the heart... a narrow path of softest sand that one can only walk barefoot, and valleys of thorns in every which direction. At least I now fashion myself a poet."
He eyed the bottle as Laric drank to his failure, shook his head with a scoff, looked up at the opalite sky slowly drifting blue to violet.
"Not a clever question, hm? Let me think... Well, since we're talking about heartbreaks, did you manage to avoid the malady," he pulled a hazelnut out of the pouch with his good hand, rolled it between the fingers, "or was there someone that made your heart a happy fool? Tell me about the sweetest one."
He eyed the bottle as Laric drank to his failure, shook his head with a scoff, looked up at the opalite sky slowly drifting blue to violet.
"Not a clever question, hm? Let me think... Well, since we're talking about heartbreaks, did you manage to avoid the malady," he pulled a hazelnut out of the pouch with his good hand, rolled it between the fingers, "or was there someone that made your heart a happy fool? Tell me about the sweetest one."
Walter could catch Laric in periphery, drinking again. The back of his mind that could still do analytics shuffled awake, offering with a last bold stretch - he's drinking because he doesn't want to answer. The flatness, a certain thinness that lightened the tone of the response confirmed it.
Dark eyes narrowed, sharp. He didn't like it. The drinking games were sacred... but then again, he was not drinking with someone who was reliable.
"Heartbreak? Me, to you? But we'd never... I'd never known." A pause, a hint of seriousness back to his face like a heavy cloud. "If it weren't surely in jest, I would apologize."
He took the bottle, stared at it.
"You say it like I chose to have the youth I did," he muttered. "Why did I leave? I..." His tongue was tied, not for the wine. He tried again, but his blood refused to pulse in the tongue that tried to speak a lie. "You know how it is for heirs. Have to further the bloodline. Nobody cares who you fuck outside, so long as you... produce... heirs of your own. Some things depend on bloodline, can't be substituted with anything like adoptions." He drank. Deeply, taking a draw, swallowing, eyes to the tree canopies, then taking another. Exhaled the rest of the air growing stale in his lungs.
"Well, my father learned that I'm not going to, even for his ever-important legacy. Someone died, someone who cared for me - for me. I figured I'd make my own way in the world. Couldn't stay, I'd just fall apart. I was still a dumb youth, too close, too comfortable, and then - David's ghost was everywhere." Another swig, he passed the bottle. "Fable or feat, Laric?"
Dark eyes narrowed, sharp. He didn't like it. The drinking games were sacred... but then again, he was not drinking with someone who was reliable.
"Heartbreak? Me, to you? But we'd never... I'd never known." A pause, a hint of seriousness back to his face like a heavy cloud. "If it weren't surely in jest, I would apologize."
He took the bottle, stared at it.
"You say it like I chose to have the youth I did," he muttered. "Why did I leave? I..." His tongue was tied, not for the wine. He tried again, but his blood refused to pulse in the tongue that tried to speak a lie. "You know how it is for heirs. Have to further the bloodline. Nobody cares who you fuck outside, so long as you... produce... heirs of your own. Some things depend on bloodline, can't be substituted with anything like adoptions." He drank. Deeply, taking a draw, swallowing, eyes to the tree canopies, then taking another. Exhaled the rest of the air growing stale in his lungs.
"Well, my father learned that I'm not going to, even for his ever-important legacy. Someone died, someone who cared for me - for me. I figured I'd make my own way in the world. Couldn't stay, I'd just fall apart. I was still a dumb youth, too close, too comfortable, and then - David's ghost was everywhere." Another swig, he passed the bottle. "Fable or feat, Laric?"
"Feat... yeah, I'll take a fable after, I think... Let's see..."
He caught the twitch. Took everything he had to let it go, not to fixate on it or try to question - gods knew, sweet David wasn't going to bring up any good memories... did they know each other?.. Didn't matter. Not right now. Was enough remembering and feeling the pain stir sharply all over.
What could he task his tormentor with, to get off the somber thoughts? He wasn't good at this. Walter's jaw shifted.
He had no desire to be cruel. Despite the lying.
"Balance a bottle on your forehead, any which way." Had to start them off light, after all.
Walter shifted closer, ready to catch the thing if it fell. No need to waste good booze.
He caught the twitch. Took everything he had to let it go, not to fixate on it or try to question - gods knew, sweet David wasn't going to bring up any good memories... did they know each other?.. Didn't matter. Not right now. Was enough remembering and feeling the pain stir sharply all over.
What could he task his tormentor with, to get off the somber thoughts? He wasn't good at this. Walter's jaw shifted.
He had no desire to be cruel. Despite the lying.
"Balance a bottle on your forehead, any which way." Had to start them off light, after all.
Walter shifted closer, ready to catch the thing if it fell. No need to waste good booze.
Walter leaned on the log with his elbow and grabbed onto the bark with the glove, hoping to get steadier. His good hand floated in the air, on the ready.
But of course he was drunk. He quickly darted closer, missed his shot, fingers barely grazing the surface of the glass. Almost fell on Laric, ran chest first into the shoulder, and huffed, embarrassed, staring at the bottle that must have found a rock among the grass and dirt. Almost like a misfortune... no... surely not. Too soon, too mundane.
He lurched back, sliding a bit lower against the log, and took the flask. Leaned the crook of the neck on the makeshift support, bent one leg in the knee, eyed the embers as he popped the flask open to sniff what was inside.
It was his turn to be brief.
"I did. A kind of good times, though I didn't want to die old and fulfilled, back then," he confirmed. "I'll take a feat next." The silver flask was offered back, for a moment. "As for the fable... hm, think we'll call the past tensions even, now that we've got scars one to one?" he pointed at the shirt, the spot under the clavicle where Laric's blade had pierced, months ago. "At least for tonight."
But of course he was drunk. He quickly darted closer, missed his shot, fingers barely grazing the surface of the glass. Almost fell on Laric, ran chest first into the shoulder, and huffed, embarrassed, staring at the bottle that must have found a rock among the grass and dirt. Almost like a misfortune... no... surely not. Too soon, too mundane.
He lurched back, sliding a bit lower against the log, and took the flask. Leaned the crook of the neck on the makeshift support, bent one leg in the knee, eyed the embers as he popped the flask open to sniff what was inside.
It was his turn to be brief.
"I did. A kind of good times, though I didn't want to die old and fulfilled, back then," he confirmed. "I'll take a feat next." The silver flask was offered back, for a moment. "As for the fable... hm, think we'll call the past tensions even, now that we've got scars one to one?" he pointed at the shirt, the spot under the clavicle where Laric's blade had pierced, months ago. "At least for tonight."
"You've left a few deeper ones yourself. But it was part of the point, now then, wasn't it?" came a murmur in return. There was a way that men of violence solved their issues, his former Captain taught him that. Paired with the duties of the lord, Walter tried to do the best he could within the confines of a number of codes demanding he do things far more drastic.
His eyelids drifted closed. Even. Even if it was altogether a lie, it was a relief in the moment - and that's all he could really ask for at any given moment. Life hasn't stopped throwing punches, and he had to do his best in making the most of its calmer moments.
So, he lay there, for just a few more moments of peace and quiet, the intoxication ebbing enough for his senses to unfurl again, take in the world.
His face was flushed a light rose hue, cheeks and neck and ears, everywhere shame or excitement could ever settle on the pale skin - now simply reigned by alcohol. Eyes glistened, roaming vaguely from Laric to the scenery, no longer focusing for long. And yet...
He noted the scent of blood, and the eyes opened wider, more alert. Mouth parted slightly, as if to ensure the scent was what he thought. Eyes tracked the hand, where blood beaded up, then ran thinner after that first thick, dark drop was not allowed to settle, and dropped instead onto the sand to leave a stain.
That hand then hooked his collar. A shiver passed, a mumbled 'n...nh...', head tilted to the side, and he covered his face, gathering the thoughts. "Trouble where that's moving, better not, m?" The knuckles of his fingers touched the improvised pillow, tucked it under the neck. "...thank you. That's... nice." People didn't like 'kind', and he didn't like 'kind' either.
The flask pressed against his lips like a promise he'd forget the morning. He had the tolerance, but just enough hard liquor with little enough to fill the stomach would do the trick. Interrupted with a cough when it felt like fire going down his throat, a swallow, 'oof', a brazen chuckle and a deeper drink.
He had to pat himself, actually not finding the coin purse - and once he'd found it on one saddle bag, his fingers ended up on copper rather than silver. Flipping it clumsily, he managed to give it a toss - though it landed into the sand. Heads.
Nostrils flared, it was that much harder to think. Eyes stopped at the cut hand, though did not focus for long.
"Give me the taste of your blood," he mumbled, before the words echoed back into his mind. "Want to chase liquor with salt."
His eyelids drifted closed. Even. Even if it was altogether a lie, it was a relief in the moment - and that's all he could really ask for at any given moment. Life hasn't stopped throwing punches, and he had to do his best in making the most of its calmer moments.
So, he lay there, for just a few more moments of peace and quiet, the intoxication ebbing enough for his senses to unfurl again, take in the world.
His face was flushed a light rose hue, cheeks and neck and ears, everywhere shame or excitement could ever settle on the pale skin - now simply reigned by alcohol. Eyes glistened, roaming vaguely from Laric to the scenery, no longer focusing for long. And yet...
He noted the scent of blood, and the eyes opened wider, more alert. Mouth parted slightly, as if to ensure the scent was what he thought. Eyes tracked the hand, where blood beaded up, then ran thinner after that first thick, dark drop was not allowed to settle, and dropped instead onto the sand to leave a stain.
That hand then hooked his collar. A shiver passed, a mumbled 'n...nh...', head tilted to the side, and he covered his face, gathering the thoughts. "Trouble where that's moving, better not, m?" The knuckles of his fingers touched the improvised pillow, tucked it under the neck. "...thank you. That's... nice." People didn't like 'kind', and he didn't like 'kind' either.
The flask pressed against his lips like a promise he'd forget the morning. He had the tolerance, but just enough hard liquor with little enough to fill the stomach would do the trick. Interrupted with a cough when it felt like fire going down his throat, a swallow, 'oof', a brazen chuckle and a deeper drink.
He had to pat himself, actually not finding the coin purse - and once he'd found it on one saddle bag, his fingers ended up on copper rather than silver. Flipping it clumsily, he managed to give it a toss - though it landed into the sand. Heads.
Nostrils flared, it was that much harder to think. Eyes stopped at the cut hand, though did not focus for long.
"Give me the taste of your blood," he mumbled, before the words echoed back into his mind. "Want to chase liquor with salt."
The difference with a proper blood rite of any kind was one. Walter wasn't offering any of his. He didn't seem too thrilled with the sharp sound of blade going through flesh, brows knitting. He almost breathed a 'no, what are you-', but his lips only moved the first couple syllables, silently on the exhale. Didn't ask for this much.
He took the hand, and held it over the open mouth. Thumb found the edge of the cut on the palm, squeezed for the couple drops to hit his lips. Then, the pressure changed, pressing the wound closed.
He didn't savor the taste, coppery tinge of it had never failed to make him sick in the past... now, however, he let the different aspect of the blood bloom and settle. An offering. Of knowledge. Blood was one of the most potent holders of the aspects belonging purely to the person.
...he was too drunk to process. Simply let the comprehension bloom, folded Laric's hand with his and, without much thought, reached for his own shirt to rip off a strip along the bottom edge. Hand wounds were nasty, that much harder to hold onto anything until they healed. He could at least take the hand and put something to pressure the wound down until it clotted up.
"You flip a coin."
He took the hand, and held it over the open mouth. Thumb found the edge of the cut on the palm, squeezed for the couple drops to hit his lips. Then, the pressure changed, pressing the wound closed.
He didn't savor the taste, coppery tinge of it had never failed to make him sick in the past... now, however, he let the different aspect of the blood bloom and settle. An offering. Of knowledge. Blood was one of the most potent holders of the aspects belonging purely to the person.
...he was too drunk to process. Simply let the comprehension bloom, folded Laric's hand with his and, without much thought, reached for his own shirt to rip off a strip along the bottom edge. Hand wounds were nasty, that much harder to hold onto anything until they healed. He could at least take the hand and put something to pressure the wound down until it clotted up.
"You flip a coin."
A louder inhale, exhale. He felt around for a waterskin. Only water could wash the blood down. Too drunk to understand what was it that he'd learned, much less break it down into words. Like the canopy shuffling in the breeze and the fading glow of dusk, it was within his perception, and yet, did not quite stick.
A sidelong glance, and something akin to a chuckle.
"Neither. Not undead. Not into shit. Scars aren't... immediately related. Now. Let me eat something, or I'll keel over." Not finding water within reach, his hand instead dove into the pouch for nuts and meat strips. Barely a relief, but something. His limbs were heavy, coin resting on the knee while he chewed, swallowed, and found some mobility enough to get a waterskin into his hand for a few long pulls, so his head would get slightly less fogged. Not a lot of improvement - would have to do.
The copper coin fliped once and barely twice, falling into the sand heavy. Tails.
"Oh, that one's easy. Are you into pain?" A nod at the hand, still clasped in his gloved one, thumb holding down the improvised bandage.
A sidelong glance, and something akin to a chuckle.
"Neither. Not undead. Not into shit. Scars aren't... immediately related. Now. Let me eat something, or I'll keel over." Not finding water within reach, his hand instead dove into the pouch for nuts and meat strips. Barely a relief, but something. His limbs were heavy, coin resting on the knee while he chewed, swallowed, and found some mobility enough to get a waterskin into his hand for a few long pulls, so his head would get slightly less fogged. Not a lot of improvement - would have to do.
The copper coin fliped once and barely twice, falling into the sand heavy. Tails.
"Oh, that one's easy. Are you into pain?" A nod at the hand, still clasped in his gloved one, thumb holding down the improvised bandage.