helluvamess | [tlv] character inbox

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"If you're hearing this then I can't be fucked answering right now or some other shit-covered fuckwich is going down on this boat so I'll get back to you when the fuck I can!"

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[The door to Blitzø's cabin looks like a typical shitty apartment door. Inside is pretty much exactly a shitty apartment. The door marked "Loona's room" does not open when tried and it appears that Blitzø himself sleeps on the couch. The walls are covered with images and drawings of horses, however every picture of Blitzø has his face scribbled over.]

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[Trevor gives shorter and shorter answers. He feels he owes it to his inmate to be honest with him, and he's never shied away from details here, but that never makes it any easier. Especially when they're sitting in the very rooms]

It was a pogrom.

[he smiles, grim and bitter and above all, tired of hateful people with righteousness in their hearts]

Apparently 'forever' means 'about four hundred years' before the good people you're protecting declare your family evil.

[Well that got dark fast, he immediately felt bad about bringing it up or making the off-colour jokes, and takes a hefty swig from his bottle to try and hide how badly he'd fucked it up. No wonder Trevor wasn't offering much detail.

But he can't just say nothing either without seeming like a bigger dick, so Blitzø tries to find some sort of compromise.]

Guess some people have short fucking memories and figured if they weren't getting in shit, it must be because the monsters weren't real and not cause of the fucking monster hunters.

[Honestly, Trevor feels it's probably better to get it all out there at the start than worry about treading around such an open wound. And Blitzø isn't trying to still kill him, which already puts him leagues ahead of his own countrymen. He doesn't say it's all right - it isn't, will never be - but he does relax his shoulders some when Blitzø doesn't choose to tease him further about it. That would have gone badly for all involved]

See. Knew you weren't so bad.

It's kind of why I don't get pissy when wardens here call me a hypocrite for sticking around to help inmates out in a system I'm not shy about criticizing. I'm still protecting the same people who murdered my family back home, or was. That was their legacy, their life's work. They died over generations to protect people. They'd want me here.

Like a good friend told me, "We're all, in the end, slaves to our families' wishes.'

Hey, don't fucking insult me to my face like that. I'm still a demon.

[It was closer to teasing than actually being insulted, although he can't quite buy that Trevor doesn't think he's that bad even after reading everything. (Or perhaps he doesn't want to)

But that last remark... Blitzø's face twists like he bit into a lemon.]

No, fuck that. I've got nothing to do with my family's wishes.

[He chuckles, and puts a hand up in defeat and acknowledgement. Yes, Blitzø, you're a very scary demon]

Maybe not your old one. You're trying to tell me you wouldn't do anything to protect your new family?

I mean...

[A flicker of guilt goes through him and Blitzø takes several deep, deep swallows from the bottle. He scrubs his hand across his lips afterwards, although the distraction hasn't helped much.]

Fuck. I'm here, does it still count?

Yeah. It counts.

[a shrug. Tired but feeling a lot better since he got a chance to talk with his new inmate one on one. It might be the beer he's drinking that has him searching the bed for a few good knives. Then again, it might be a convenient excuse and a way for Trevor to say "I've got you" without explicitly saying so]

Here. This one for quick stabs, this one for slicing.

[He hands over two knives, sized appropriately for Blitzø]

[Blitzø eyes them both before he polishes off the rest of the bottle and takes it with his tail to free up his hands. He tests both knives and gives a wicked grin.]

How many hours do you spend making sure this is all good to go all the time?

[He grins, always appreciative of those who notice his hard work]

Too many. Although Taylor was looking for work earlier, so she came in recently to sharpen everything.

Satan's ass, you sure you don't wanna take me up on that proposition? Sounds like you need to get fucking laid if you're spending all your time sitting in here sharpening knives.

I think my girlfriend would have some choice words about that. And I don't like wardens who sleep with inmates, theirs or others.

Is she here, or are you sitting in here stroking these knives all day by yourself and that's all the action you're getting?

[It's possibly a sensitive topic, but for all he knows Trevor is tapping some other warden ass here already.]

Isn't that like, half the wardens at least? Most of those fuckers don't seem to care.

She used to be here.

[fortunately Sypha is actually not a sore spot at all and makes Trevor very happy to think about her]

I'm not one of them.

Christ you're as bad as Moxxie. She fucking peg you too?

[The knifes disappear into his coat to join the one Johann gave him. A gun would still be his preference but at least he's got something now.]

Aaand what if she did?

Then you've probably got cobwebs down there it's been so long. You can just say you don't know if it works any more and that's why you're pumping knives all the time.

Do you really enjoy talking about this sort of thing?

The fuck does that mean?

[Crap, he feels like this is about to turn into some kind of discussion about emotions or some shit, and tries to break away from it by sliding off the bed to put the bottle down, not really looking at Trevor as the other man answers.]

I just want to know if you're angling for a reaction from me. If you're trying to get me angry, or horny, or whatever-the-fuck.

Orrr if it's just a thing to keep shit-kicking. Because I'm not..much for that. It takes a lot to piss me off, I mean a lot. I don't usually get angry, and I can't sustain it long, it just makes me tired and bitter.

[That... is actually worse than some Malcolm-esque attempt at talking about feelings or whatever. He keeps his back to Trevor to hide the flicker of genuine hurt.]

Christ on a stick, I was just talking shit for fun. Don't get your fucking ass clenched over it, I won't fucking do it again then.

Seriously?

[Well, shit. He exhales]

Sorry. I..lots of people here have tried to press on what they think are sore spots. Didn't know this was for fun.

I was trying to say, I don't mind either. I've had people purposely try to get under my skin a lot and...thought you were trying to do the same.

It's fine. I know I'm a fucking dick to everyone.

[So he really shouldn't be surprised when people assume the worst, since it's also what he often pushes people to.]

Probably took it too far anyway.

I should go to work, otherwise fucking Zack will get his panties in a twist.

[That's not the case, he wants to say; instead Trevor lets it pass with a shrug. He's not equipped yet to deal with the self-loathing of his inmate, although he makes a mental note to find a way and cheer him up later.

Though he makes a face at the mention of Zack. Yeah; Trevor's never been much of a fan either. They're better now, but when he was an inmate, he loathed him]

Sure.

You can switch jobs, too. Don't know if you knew that. I'd put you on breakfast crew with me but we're full up.

Also Sebastian is on the breakfast crew, remember?

[Even if they did have space, he wouldn't expect that to go down well for any of them.]

But yeah, I know. Cleaning shit's not that bad, it's not like it's hard or dangerous or anything. And I get to spend most of it alone.

Sebastian's...not so bad.

Don't get me wrong, he's an evil bastard who could wipe the floor with me, but the ship couldn't run half as well without him.

[a shrug. He adores that terrible demon]

That's fair. Let me know if Zack starts to give you shit. He and I..really didn't get along all that well from the start.

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