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Max Jordan | Mr. Hyde (tooth_breaker) wrote in bellumlogs,

Max kept a wary eye on the dogs as he sat across from Vlad, staring at them as if expecting them to charge before finally looking over at the other man. He set the bottle of whiskey down on the floor beside his chair, planning on opening it after this conversation. He felt bad that Vlad couldn't share it, but seeing him pop one of his pain pills made him feel better. Vlad was getting the good stuff, after all.

"Getting stabbed is annoying?" he asked in disbelief, laughing dryly and dragging a hand down his face. "Does anything bother you?" Obviously not. The man was a fucking tank. He had to be able to help with Brian, he was practically Superman.

The story had him listening intently, though with an expression of concern. When it concluded, he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Shit. That's rough." And he meant it. "You deserve a medal for getting out of that. Russians are nasty, especially peasants. Little maggots with pointy sticks, that's all they are." He wrinkled his nose, huffing in disgust at the thought of it.

As he asked about France, Max's expression fell once again. Now he had to tell him. He had to commit to it, he had to voice that nasty little secret about his entire existence. Running a hand over his chin, he paused. "France was. Dirty. Hot. I scavenged for a few days before meeting some people from the building in a wine shop. Some lady got shot, I think, she was whining." Max hated whiners. "And I got sent to the desert for...fuck I don't know how long. It was night when I got back though." He sighed. "But that...that was all fine, France was...fine. It's not that that we need to talk about, it's..."

He cringed, pressing both hands to his temples. "Do you know how...people have..." He couldn't even articulate this. "They have...parts of their lives that they share, and then the parts that they manage on their own? Kind of like being Batman? Except instead of Batman...you're..." He licked his lips dryly, rocking back and forth in his seat and running his palms over his hair. "For example. You are. Vlad..." Fuck he didn't know his last name. "Vlad. You are in business. You have this nice place. And...lovely dogs." Shit, this wasn't making sense. "And then sometimes, you...do things that people shouldn't do." He paused, then made a stabbing motion towards his own chest. This was going poorly. "Right? You with me?"