Michael Alton (affect) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-04-26 02:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | #october 2017, mike |
Who: Jack & Mike
Where: Jack’s place
When: Friday night 10/20
Status: Complete
The witch festival was always a bit of a crack show if you asked Mike. He saw plenty of it when he worked at the museum and he was glad he wasn't working during that second tour on Friday night. Sure it could be fun, but he'd rather be out somewhere drinking or getting high. He hadn't really talked to Jack since that weird cat incident and he figured his buddy might need some cheering up since he'd gotten hurt and all. He texted him around ten to let him know he was coming over and showed up about a half an hour later, knocking on Jack's door.
Jack was sprawled on his couch, watching Street Outlaws. It was a reality show based in Oklahoma City about street racing. It was dumb, stupid really, but the drama could be fun at times. Really, he’d only just landed on the channel and just didn’t care enough to change it. He was depressed. It was a Friday night and the only reason he was stuck indoors was because of this damn bad luck he kept finding himself in. Every time he moved it seemed that something happened. The only thing that kept him from slitting his wrists out of boredom was that Mike had text to say he was coming over; that had cheered him up some.
When the knock at the door came, he stood to his feet and started towards the door. The first thing he did was trip over the small coffee table. He caught himself, but everything on the table went crashing to the floor. “Fuckin’ hell!” He muttered and then concentrated hard to get to the door.
“Bro, I need to give you a key,” he grumbled and swung the door open. “Come on in,” he said and went towards the kitchen. “Want a beer?”
"You look like hell," Mike muttered and it wasn't that Jack looked bad, he just looked frazzled. His house was not so well designed that Mike couldn't hear the crash from outside the door and he looked at the mess as he strolled in after Jack, brows drawn together. "Yeah I'll have a beer, thanks." He had brought vodka but a beer was a good start. He didn't know why he'd need a key though, that had literally never been an issue before now. "You sick or something? What’s going on?"
“‘Scuse the mess,” Jack mumbled, ignoring the upturned coffee table for now. He’d clean it up later. He’d forgotten that Mike had brought liquor to cheer him up, the upturned coffee table had displaced is mind and he just felt a little foggy. He grabbed the beers and handed one over to Mike and then took a seat at the kitchen table. The less he moved, the better, he thought. “I’m not sick,” he shook his head. “Just having a bad day,” he sighed.
Mike tugged his backpack off to get the bottle of vodka out and put it on the table. He ditched the backpack and grabbed his beer to take a sip before putting the bottle on the table too. "How did you break your toe?" he asked as he went to pick up the things that were scattered around the floor, turning the small table around so he could set the things that weren't broken back up on it.
“Tripped in the bathroom,” Jack answered. “Was making my way out, tripped on the rug and ran my foot right into the door jam,” he frowned. Seeing the vodka, he grinned and then was up again to grab some glasses and then sat back down before anything else could go wrong. “Leave things,” he waved his hand around. “Mike...you brought vodka, you do not need to clean up after my clumsy self.” He hated that Mike was doing that, but grateful, too, because he was sure that he wouldn’t have gotten to it until tomorrow or even the next day or until his Aunt came over and did it for him.
"You're wounded," Mike said dramatically. "If you pick this up you'll probably just hurt yourself more." He knew he could be a lazy and selfish bastard at times but there were moments when he wasn't and that usually involved his friends. He frowned at the stuff that had broken and went to find something to sweep up the glass with. "Drink and shut up and behave yourself," he muttered and shot Jack an amused smile.
“Probably correct,” Jack chuckled. “Just walking is enough to get myself hurt these days.” He let Mike do his thing, just watching and drinking. He didn’t have many friends, not close friends anyway, but he knew he could rely on Mike to always be there. Vicky, too. He and Mike though, they went back a little further and Jack was sure that he’d be lost without the man.
“Behave?” He laughed. “Now where is the fun in that?” Not that he had much of a choice. “I mean, if that is an order, I guess I can sit here and be quiet?”
"Oh my God," Mike laughed. "I really wanna see you try." He winked at Jack before he started sweeping up the broken glass. "Jack Williams, going quiet for as long as he can. I don't think I'll even have time to be bored." He straightened up to bring the dustpan to the trash, sticking his tongue out at Jack.
Jack wrinkled up his nose, and then pulled his fingers over his lips as if he were zipping his lips shut and then ‘tossed away the key’ while he looked at Mike. He then picked up the cap to his beer bottle and tossed it at his friends head and flipped him off. Take that, he thought. He could sit there quietly. Maybe. Shit. He already wanted to say something.
Mike smirked again and nodded slowly. "We'll see how long you last," he teased and washed his hands quickly in the kitchen sink before returning to the table to plop down on the chair opposite Jack. He picked up his bottle of beer, licked his lips and then drank, keeping his gaze level on his buddy. A challenge, really. He doubted Jack wanted to stay quiet all night and Mike was feeling patient tonight so he'd probably outlast him. Unless he got antsy. At least he had alcohol to focus on.
Jack rolled his eyes and tipped back his beer, his eyes tracking Mike until he took a seat. He made a face and then gritted his teeth together. He would win this one, dammit. Though, he probably wouldn’t. He let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair, messing it up more than it was. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this...it was the mantra running through his head.
Mike snickered. "You look constipated," he teased as he checked his phone for the time then put it down on the table and took a sip of his beer. He'd let him off the hook if he actually lasted more than a couple of minutes because it would get boring but he seriously doubted it would take that long. Jack was jittery, it was cute and predictable that he'd break the silence soon.
Jack took in a breath and rolled his eyes, flipping Mike off again. He stared down into his drink, trying to refrain from looking at Mike, thinking that might help. He reached down to rub at his leg where he’d been bitten, and then remembered he hadn’t told Mike about his chat with Nate the other day.
“So, Nate thinks we’re cursed,” he started and then groaned when he realized he lost. “Shit.”
Mike pressed his lips together in his grin, Jack was feeling kinda shitty so it'd be mean to rub it in, wouldn't it? He licked his lips and tried to relax those muscles in his cheeks that insisted on him smiling.
"Because of the cats?" he asked and that was still so weird to him, both the fact that it had happened and the way the guys were treating it. He was still pretty sure they'd just been high as fuck and there had been three cats max, but even then it was weird because those cats had bitten both of them. "Cursed how?"
Jack knew that Mike was trying not to grin, he could see it, and it brought a sneer and a roll of the eyes. He huffed out a sigh and then downed his beer and reached for the bottle that Mike had brought, starting to pour them both a glass.
“I’m not sure, but something about black cats on a Friday the 13th. We both were bitten, both our wounds wouldn’t heal and we seem to both be having some sort of bad luck that just won’t stop,” he shrugged. “He had someone mix up some sort of cream and finally it started to heal, but still got the bad luck. He’s working on it.”
God, these boys and their superstitions. Mike didn't know what to do with that so he grabbed his glass to drink. "You know, the more you believe in it the more power it holds over you," he muttered. It was a psychosomatic thing if he ever saw one but of course both Jack and Nate really believed it was a real curse.
“You know, weird things happen in this town, why not curses like that?” Jack asked with a shrug. “I don’t know what to believe, but the cream that he gave me stopped my wound from oozing and going gangrene and all that,” he made a face. “The doctors, they had nothing for me, nothing would work.” It had been strange, too, but man that cream did work wonders. “You have to admit, Mike, ever since I was bitten that night my life has become an even bigger mess than what it was.”
Mike very nearly repeated himself; that believing in shit gave it more power, that he'd literally just told him that but he held back. Jack could be weird about things and Mike didn't feel like being a total dick to him tonight. "I'm glad something's working then, maybe your luck will change too," he murmured. "We need you for Halloween so you gotta get better."
Jack rose his eyebrow in thought. God he hoped he was better by Halloween too. “Yeah, tripping on stage and knocking over a drum set is not how I’d like for that to go,” he chuckled. “Have you got a set list yet? What songs you are wanting to do?”
"Some of the usual, few new ideas," Mike muttered with a dismissive hand wave. "I'll email you the list and you can add to it if you want." It had always been a bit of a puzzle to get the right songs, they all had such different taste in music but they'd somehow made it work. Mike was sure they'd get fewer gigs if they only played the music he wanted to play - it was too sleepy for a good party. "Vicky had some good ideas but we definitely need to meet up soon and make sure we've got it all down."
“Yeah, sure,” Jack nodded. “Of course Vicky has great ideas, she normally does. Just don’t tell her that or it will go to that already big ego of hers,” he chuckled. “I think some Rob Zombie is in order, great Halloween music,” he took a drink. “So..how are things with you?” He was happy to change the subject from himself to Mike.
"Well," Mike said with a little shrug. "I never did tell you about all the fantastic shit I got up to in Europe, did I?" He smiled and poured another drink for both of them. There were a few stories he could tell, nothing crazy but he'd had a good time and there were some cultural differences that were worth noting that might entertain Jack. He did look like he needed to be entertained right now and Mike was happy to deliver.