|holding_fast (holding_fast) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2016-10-01 09:29:00
|Entry tags:||hector, paris|
WHO: Hector and Paris [Narrative]
WHEN: Saturday, October 1st
WHERE: Off the Military base, but not far
It wasn't often that Hector travelled off the Military base. This time the guys were going to a bar just to get some fresh air and have some fun. There was a needling in the back of his mind that had convinced him to go with them (if only to keep them in check). That was he had told himself, but even when he'd stepped into the bar, something felt almost familiar. Seated it too far away was Paris (a face Hector had not seen in centuries). He didn't recognize it until one of his guys started mouthing off.
Paris had actually rolled his eyes the moment he'd seen the bunch of military guys waltz in like they owned the place. When one of them sat down beside him he ran his mouth about how ridiculous they all were. Paris had long by since distanced himself from anything military. Picking fights came easy to paris, but finishing them was not his strongest talent. The recent rise from the dead via Achilles had just proved that. He'd been embarrassed and humiliated, and skipped town about just as quickly as Oenone had left him. He was a snake, so hiding out for now seemed the best way to deal with his sobering humiliation.
He was nursing his drink when one of those brutes bumped into him. "Watch it will you!" He rolled his eyes again disrespectfully, insisting he get a new drink since it had sloshed out of his glass. Compared to this big guy Paris was short and not nearly as muscular. To his credit he stood his ground just before getting punched in the face. He was still weak from being back from the dead, but it never stopped him from getting punched again. It was Hector that broke it up, and now realized his baby brother had come back into his life. He didn't know if he was more excited or annoyed. Paris was a fool.