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 Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2016 6:18 pm
He made a strange whuffling noise and accepted the beer, tipping his head toward Jordan in thanks. "Yeah, that would suck." Sometimes, in the pathos of his own situation, he forgot that others had had it worse. It was very easy to get caught up in his own mind, in his memories, in the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. It made him feel selfish. Horace cracked open the beer and took a long drink. He didn't need more alcohol, but maybe it'd be nice, in a forgetting kind of way. It was amazing what this island had done for his alcohol tolerance. "I don't know about you, but I don't think I could do it again. Sometimes still don't think I can." He frowned, feeling as if he should not have admitted that. "I dunno if it'd be such a bad ticket price if things worked." Losing a finger and then the ferris wheel stalling was much worse than losing a finger and riding round and round and round, his mind dizzily thought.
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Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2016 8:05 pm
"I like to think I've learned from my mistakes, anyway." Jordan leaned back on his hands, looking up at the darkening sky and contemplating whether or not the clouds drifting across it were going to produce rain. Probably, he thought. It was a hazard of living here. "I couldn't do it again," he said, quietly, certain. "If I ******** things up again ... well. I think I'd have to get myself assigned somewhere else, with the history I have here, with the people I know." He looked over at Horace. "Nah. Lose enough of you, and you won't have anything left to give." It was applicable in both a literal and figurative sense.
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Posted: Mon Jan 11, 2016 8:20 pm
"Try a new life elsewhere... and you'd try, right?" He felt a little crass even voicing the question - the unspoken part of it being Jordan giving up. He had no idea if or how close the other man had been to giving up and it was prying to ask. He knew how close he'd been and it was not close enough, he supposed. It was an unpleasant thought and he shook it off. "Nevermind." He splayed his hands out in front of him, telling himself all he lost was a finger. "There's always bits of me to cut off. I'm a tall guy; I'm sure it'll be okay."
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Posted: Tue Jan 12, 2016 7:00 pm
"I'd try," Jordan answered, and the look he gave Horace was faintly troubled, full of too much understanding. He knew what was being asked. He'd been too close to the edge, in a too-literal sense. He was no longer at that point, but being asked about it suggested an echo that wasn't his own. "You gotta have some left for yourself," he pointed out, gently.
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Posted: Thu Jan 14, 2016 7:36 pm
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Good. That's all it is, really, trying..." Horace trailed off, watching the sky haze dizzily. "Do I?" He almost drawled out, his voice deliberately lazy, like he was picking at a thread and watching it unravel. Unraveled threads get snipped eventually. "How much is too much? Is there a clear line - where do I stop?" It was a tireless question he'd asked himself over and over. Horace had stopped, at one point, had walked away. That made it worse, somehow. He'd stopped and both wanted and did not want to start again. Everything was his fault anyway and he'd just ******** it up again, but sometimes, he wanted to try. Sometimes he told himself it'd be better this time.
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Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2016 7:20 am
"All we've got, some days," Jordan agreed. "When it's stop or break," he said, and gave Horace an oblique and sideways look. "You'll know." He let the words hang in the air briefly. "You'll try, right?" he asked, echoing Horace's own words back to him.
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Posted: Sun Jan 17, 2016 2:42 pm
He made a noncommittal noise. Horace had thought he was at the 'stop or break' point before, had thought it was done. But here he was, back nipping at his ex''s heels like a stupid puppy who never learned any better. Maybe if he'd continued, tried harder, he wouldn't have broken. Everything would have continued. Horace would never know. "I thought I was there before, but I guess I wasn't. Maybe I won't really know." Ever. Horace grimaced at Jordan's words, but quickly hid the expression behind a bottle. "I'll try," he said, but the words sounds hollow even to him.
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Posted: Sun Jan 17, 2016 6:15 pm
It was, perhaps, mildly hypocritical advice. Jordan had hit that point, had broken, had spent a long painful time slowly putting himself back together, but he too had returned to chase after the root of his problems. Only time would tell if he was making a mistake again. He half-shrugged in sheepish response to the noise. He was doing better at the moment, but that might be only luck. He jerked a small sideways nod in Horace's direction, gave him a smile with not much humor and too much tired ache. "That's all anyone can ask, I guess," he said, and then, a moment later, "Make sure you drink enough water tonight, that s**t will ******** you up," indicating the vodka bottle. A change of subject, of a sorts, unsubtle, but the pain inherent in the discussion was growing too heavy.
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Posted: Sun Jan 17, 2016 8:51 pm
Horace was glad for the shift in subject. He felt stretched too thin, too sensitive. "Okay, dad," he said, a hint of his normal joking manner back in his voice. "I guess I better call it a night, though." He wobbled precariously to his feet, not liking how everything suddenly spun wildly. Thrusting out a hand, he caught himself on the concrete casing of some old ventilation system. It scraped his palms and that pain was very small and very dull, but at least things spun more reasonably. "Let me know if ya need help on the house or... just.... how it all goes, okay?" He waved sloppily at Jordan. "And, thanks." Horace didn't say for what, instead opting to turn around, almost fall, and try to stumble his way down many flights of stairs.
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Posted: Sun Jan 17, 2016 9:05 pm
Jordan smiled a little. "Past your bedtime anyway, junior," he said, light and teasing. As Horace wobbled and grabbed for support, he shifted as if to get up, but subsided. Horace probably wouldn't appreciate being treated like he needed help, he felt, even if the guy did need it. And asking if he needed it, after the strange and somewhat strained conversation, might hit the same nerve. "I will," he said, and as Horace turned to go, Jordan said, "Thanks. Be careful, okay?" He didn't specify what about; it could have been a caution against what they'd talked about, or simply against the hazards of stairs navigated while very drunk. He stayed where he was for some time after the sound of stumbling, overcautious footsteps had faded down the stairwell, looking out over the complex at the distant lights and the occasional figures that moved between the buildings. He neither drew nor drank, but just sat, quiet and contemplative.
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