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Tweak says, "Nanananananananana BATMAN!"

Jim Hopper [Stranger Things] (icancoveritup) wrote in snapthread,
@ 2019-11-10 12:33:00

Entry tags:

eddie kaspbrak, jim hopper

Who: Eddie and Hopper
What: Adult version of hanging out
Where: The pub
When: Early enough to be called Day Drinking
Warnings: Nah
Status: Closed

Drinking had been a way of life for Hopper for so long before he'd started taking care of Eleven that he easily fell back into old patterns. He drank first thing in the morning, and throughout the day, and until he passed out at night. If he drank enough he wouldn't dream, and that was one of his major goals, because his dreams were either disturbing flashes of memory, or hopeful flashes of a future he could never have. If he wasn't in this place, he'd be dead, after all.

He sighed and pulled a long sip off his glass, then reached for the bottle to refill it. He glanced over his shoulder when the door behind him opened, and in doing so, missed the bartop as he set the bottle back down and it crashed to the floor at his feet. "Well, shit," he muttered. "Good thing it was almost empty. Would have been a tragic loss."

He glanced back up at Eddie. He liked the guy well enough, but not the memories associated with him. Their time in the woods was something Hopper wanted to forget. Still, he nodded and gestured to the stool beside himself. "You're welcome to join me, but we need a new bottle, obviously."

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ekaspbrak
2019-11-11 05:04 am UTC (link)

He needed to talk to Richie. Eddie knew that. He'd spent a lot of time talking to everyone except the one person he should be speaking to. Putting it off wasn't fixing anything and it wasn't going to make it easier. In fact, it might make things worst. The longer they stayed like this the more likely it was that Richie would do something stupid. Like assume he was the one at fault and apologize. Eddie didn't want that. It wasn't his fault.

Admitting that to himself didn't make it easier which was probably why he found himself stepping into the bar instead. Eddie had never been an alcoholic. He had a glass of wine every once in a while but only at dinner time. It definitely wasn't dinner time and he had no plans on ordering wine. He was thinking something stronger. Something Myra would've disapproved of. It was a little act of rebellion. Something he needed because he'd fallen back into old patterns and this was the best way to break them and build up the liquid courage he needed to go talk to Richie.

As great as those thoughts were, however, he probably would've backed out if it weren't for a familiar face at the bar. He huffed out a little laugh at the man's words. "Hey, Hopper." He greeted easily. He didn't like the memories associated with him either but they didn't have to talk about it. Besides, he didn't want to remind Hopper about the doors just in case the other man actually did want to knock his teeth in. He climbed onto the offered stool and ordered them another bottle, glad it was all free. "You look... good."

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icancoveritup
2019-11-11 05:18 pm UTC (link)

"I look like shit and we both know it." He'd gotten new clothes from the shop in the little town. There wasn't much that fit him, but he'd found jeans and a flannel. He still had the white T-shirt, but he'd ditched the drab pants he'd been wearing. His hair wasn't combed, but it was clean, and he hadn't trimmed his beard at all since he'd come to this place.

But he was alive, if this place really was an alternate reality. He still wasn't sure on that. He might never really be sure if he was living or dead, at this point. He supposed it didn't matter. He was making a life, such as it was. He needed to eat, and drink. Everything else was subjective.

"You're seem to be doing all right, yourself." Which really wasn't saying much. Humans had a knack for simply existing even when life beat them down. he knew, because he'd done it for years. After Sara died, and before El came into his life, he'd done little more than exist.

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ekaspbrak
2019-11-12 10:48 pm UTC (link)

"Well, yeah, but shit that's in one piece. There were alternatives." Alternatives that neither of them had to talk about right now. Or ever. That was the adult thing to do, right? Just drown the experience with whiskey. Who really cared how either of them looked? The point was that they were both alive. They'd come through it in one piece. So maybe Hopper's hair was a little messy and his beard could use a trim but, at least, he was clean. He didn't resemble some nightmare hobo. Richie probably didn't either no matter how much his hair needed a trim.

It was too bad Eddie was a risk analyst and not a barber. He would've really cleaned up in this place... or not. No one actually dealt with money.

Pouring himself a glass of... whatever the fuck he ordered, he raised an eyebrow at Hopper's assessment of him. "Oh, I'm a rock star at compartmentalizing things." He said, placing the bottle between the two of them in an offer to share. The fact that Hopper was here at all was probably all he needed to know regarding the guy's daughter. She still hadn't turned up. He didn't need to ask about her and remind the other man of that missing piece of himself. "So... how many of these bottles am I going to have to drink to catch up to you?" He asked instead before taking a drink and making a face at the initial burn. It seemed Hopper and Richie had similar tastes. Thank god he no longer had an open wound in his face.

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icancoveritup
2019-11-17 12:11 am UTC (link)

Hopper was on board with the not talking about it. It was better to just...move on. Move forward, or something. He didn't even know. He just knew their experience in the woods was the sort of thing that made friends, or destroyed relationships.

Not talking about it increased the potential for long term friendship exponentially. Hopper was good with that. He liked Eddie. And he needed friends, since everyone he knew was...somewhere else. Other than Steve. Of course Steve was here. Better than Mike Wheeler, he supposed. He actually kind of liked Steve, when it was all said and done.

"Not counting the half a bottle on the floor," Hopper said with a cursory glance at the mess. "I'd say...half a bottle. Not so much you can't catch up in a reasonable amount of time."

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ekaspbrak
2019-11-23 02:03 am UTC (link)

It was probably a good thing the two of them had gone in there as perfect strangers. They had a shared experience to bond over by ignoring that it had ever happened at all. Or, well, maybe not ignoring it but definitely by not talking about it. They hadn't known each other and now they knew what the other was like in life threatening situations. It gave you a clearer picture of someone, of what they were really like at their worst. That sort of shit could change the way you saw a person.

Eddie liked Hopper. He was good in a fight and he didn’t seem like the type of person who took anyone’s shit. Which Eddie maybe needed a little more of. When he got comfortable with people he got a little bossy, a little sarcastic. Way too vocal and demanding. It would probably do him some good to be around someone who wouldn’t actually put up with that for too long. It would remind him to be a little more mindful of his words. Or something. Not everyone was Richie who liked when he was a little mean or Stan who tolerated it well enough.

“Half a bottle. I can live with that.” He said. As he looked down to the glass on the floor. He’d actually expected worst but this seemed doable. He could catch up. They were going to have to find something to talk about though. Nothing too deep. Nothing about the doors or what they had been through together. Just something else. "I never caught where you were from." He said.

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icancoveritup
2019-11-27 03:22 pm UTC (link)

"Not sure I ever said," Hopper shrugged. "It's no secret, though. I'm from Hawkins. Small town in Indiana," he added. because no one knew where Hawknis was. It was a dot on any map, a blink and you missed it sort of town.

That happened to have a portal to another world under it. A portal that had a bad habit of opening up and letting nasties out. "Steve Harrington, I don't know if you know him. He's the kid with the enviable hair? He's from Hawkins too. I guess he's friends with my kid." Sort of. Maybe, if you stretch the definition of 'friends'.

It didn't really matter. It just explained that Hopper knew Steve from home. They, too, had something of a shared trauma. With Demigorgons and Demidogs, Mind Flayers, and Russian experiments. Steve had been thrust into the heart of it, and he'd come out stronger for it. Hopper respected that.

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ekaspbrak
2019-11-27 07:00 pm UTC (link)

Maybe he hadn't. There had definitely been a little more running and yelling than actual talking. Eddie couldn't really remember what information he'd given Hopper. Hearing about Hawkins, though, he understood that. He knew what it was like to be from a town so small no one had ever heard of it. "I'm from Derry." He offered. "Small town in Maine."

Derry, seemingly, had a lot in common with Hawkins. They were both small dots on a map. He assumed they differed in a few aspects. Hopper had said something in the woods. Something that had Eddie commenting on the both of them hailing from horror movies. He assumed there wasn't a eldritch horror child eating clown lurking in Hawkins but he knew there had been something. They didn't need to get into the clown or Hopper's own monsters though. They could just forget about all of that.

"I don't think I've met Steve." He said, narrowing his eyes as he tried to think of who he had and hadn't met. "I don't actually go out looking to meet people." He wasn't the most sociable person. Sure, he was empathetic and he could be warm but he wasn't Richie. He couldn't just talk to anyone. With Starklandia being as small as it was he would probably end up running into him eventually. It was just a matter of time. There was also a chance Hopper would run into his friends. "There's a few of us from Derry though. Richie Tozier, he's a comedian and he talks a lot. Too much. You'll know him when you meet him. There's also Stan. He likes birds, he keeps to himself mostly. We grew up together." If you stretched that definition. They didn't grow up together for too long. The Losers club hadn't all been together since the summer of 89.

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