Bart's No Good Very Bad (Rainy) Day

Now I know there's no one I can trust - I used to think there was
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed

The concept of being liked by the griffin is both intimidating and strange. Much as he loves animals, Bart has never allowed himself to act on that affection; their father's violence was already capricious and wanting, no sense in submitting an innocent creature to it. "Uh, thanks," he grumbles awkwardly towards Haai, unsure what she even sees in him to make such a snap judgement. A cold pit opens in his stomach; fuck, are these people gonna trust him just because he's Nate's brother? God, but none of them even know the shit he's been through since Nate died. If Nate even remembers since apparently he's the one that croaked in his brother's timeline or whatever.

Before he can linger on that too long and let the sourness overtake him enough to start pushing Sunjata further away, he's kneecapped by the relief of the fact that here, there is nothing to fear. Not for him - well maybe for him, fuck he's still figuring that shit out - but for his brother most of all. Bart wouldn't have been able to withhold violence from this world if he had to even remotely risk seeing his brother die or deal with scumbags all over again. Relaxing backwards into his chair, he runs a scarred hand over his face and into his hair, and doesn't hide the naked relief on his face. "Good, that's...good." Because what else is there to say that doesn't awkwardly out himself in a way he doesn't even have words for himself?

A snort escapes him at the nettling, flashing dark eyes Scarface's way. "Yer biased, Scarface. I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, gotta stroke m'own ego here." A crooked smirk flashed his way as he props his socked foot up onto his opposite knee, sinking further down into the chair. Suddenly fatigued, overwhelmed by all that has transpired in a handful of hours. Dying at his father's hand, getting sucked down the proverbial toilet pipe to this weird fucking world, finding out his twin's alive but mysteriously not here, and getting dragged into his new brother-in-law's house. Even that's pretty insane by Bart's standards.

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear

BARTHOLOMEW

// do my worst, shoot the moon, stab the sun. got a curse, on the tip of my tongue
you go first, and i swear that i'll jump.  born to kill, tiny slice of the throat //

The griffin is more than content to stare at Bart, even if it’s awkward for the other man. She can see the similarities and Nate has always been one of her favorite people, so it comes as no surprise that she’d warm up to Bart easily if he was anything like Nate. Only time would tell, though, and it’s up to Sunjata to relax in the chair, trying to soothe over the barbs from their meeting all because of a jacket.

Not just any jacket, though, Nate’s jacket.

So he offers the honesty in the fact that they were safe here – avoiding mentioning the whole ordeal with his own father, given the fact that Sunjata’s pretty sure he killed him and whatever happened to Nate was entirely Nate’s story to tell. Perhaps it was even something that Nate wouldn’t share with Sunjata but something he could share to Bart. Which is fine. He understands. He’d be the same in some respects. Sometimes only your siblings understood what it was you went through.

So all he can do is nod, offer a huff of a laugh Bart’s way. “I am absolutely biased.” He rumbles, his accent thickly coating his words in such an opposite way of Bart’s own – but Sunjata relishes in it quietly, like a piece of Nate being back home even if Nate held his accent close to his chest most times. “You want something to drink? Food?” He asks instead, moving to push himself up from the couch, heading into the expanse of kitchen space there is, pulling out the good whiskey and rum and setting them on the counter as he fumbles around for any food left around that Nate had made that lasted since he’d departed.

a new pill, or the poison you know, let it spill && i swear that i'll go

SUNJATA

Now I know there's no one I can trust - I used to think there was
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed

Well, she can continue staring all she likes. Bart is going to intently not look at her in contrast. He feels like he's avoiding his dad's squinting stare as the old man tried to figure out if Bart was lying or not; he usually was, which makes the comparison all the more convoluted, but everything about this scenario is a bit of a fucking mess anyway. It's too much to wrap his head around but damn if he isn't trying.

He doesn't want to think too hard about the social atmosphere here, or the relief that settles all the way into his bones at the affirmation Sunjata gives. Bart's really, really good at ignoring shit. (Get it? Since he's ignoring Haai?)

A 6'4 dude isn't so easy to ignore though even if he intended to, but lucky he isn't because fuck yeah he wants a drink. "Fuck, I shouldn't get plastered but man if it don't sound good right now with all'a this. So yeah, but not too much." Otherwise Scarface is going to have to haul a half-naked Bart into bed while he swings wildly between maudlin and hyper. Probably maudlin with the revelations the day has brought (and his own fuckin' death) but the half-nakedness is pretty much a staple of Bart's once he's past tipsy. "I wouldn't say no to some food though." Definitely more of an afterthought with alcohol on the horizon.

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear

BARTHOLOMEW

// do my worst, shoot the moon, stab the sun. got a curse, on the tip of my tongue
you go first, and i swear that i'll jump.  born to kill, tiny slice of the throat //

Haai doesn’t mind that Bart ignores her and she continues to do her little gargoyle-esque watch from her bed while Sunjata tries to focus on calming himself for the realization that his brother in law is in Caido and that Nate would be returning soon to quite the fucking surprise. So he tries to offer up some sort of peace allotment, some amount of ‘here’s some shelter and food and drinks and whatever you need’ because that’s what family was for, right?

He can only assume.

So he nods, pouring a bit of rum (what Torchline was particularly known for) into a glass, not too much as Bart had suggested, and manages to grab some left over meal that Nate had made, as well as a few of the staples such as some dried ramphire jerky, bread, things like that which tended to last longer, for Bart to choose from. “Nate’s kind of the cook in this relationship so you’re going to be shit out of luck if you ask me to make anything for you.” He calls over to Bart with a hum of a laugh. “But I have some stuff you might be able to make something with.” He sets them all on the counter before he’s leaning back with his back against the opposite counter. “If you’re not a fan of rum, I’ve got whiskey too.” He moves to open up a drawer and pull out a pack of cigarettes, moving to light one up and take a drag off of it, setting the pack on the counter with the matches as well, in case Bart also smoked.

a new pill, or the poison you know, let it spill && i swear that i'll go

SUNJATA

Now I know there's no one I can trust - I used to think there was
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed

Bart finally caves and squints at the griffin from the corner of his eyes, making a twisted face and poking his tongue out at her playfully for lack of any better response to her weird unblinking surveillance. He has no idea the level of her intelligence, because she's a griffin. Maybe her brain is the size of a pistachio, Bart wouldn't know. Hm, now he's definitely imagining food though.

Pushing himself out of the chair and back to his feet, Bart ambles over to the counter with a tired gratitude to his expression as his hand unerringly finds the glass and begins to sip at it long before Sunjata's offer for an alternative comes about. Though he does snort at the comment on his brother's cooking; "Yeah, Nate's always been'a mother hen. I can cook too if ya need, least I can do when yer lettin' me stink up the place till he comes back." Or longer, because Bart admittedly never grew out of being a little leech, bumming around places and never planting roots. Though he might have to change tactics because he sure doesn't want to hear his brother banging his husband either. Sunjata doesn't seem like a screamer, at least. Okay, now Bart feels a little ill just imagining that. He swallows the rest of the rum to try and burn the imagery from his brain and laments not being able to dump it in his eyes.

"Nah, I'm not a picky drinker clearly," he rumbles a laugh as he sets down the now empty glass, fingers plucking a cigarette from the counter with a grateful hum as he lights it up and takes a deep drag. He tries not to smoke often - he's a nurse, knows what it can do - but fuck if the stress of the day doesn't warrant it.

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear

BARTHOLOMEW

// do my worst, shoot the moon, stab the sun. got a curse, on the tip of my tongue
you go first, and i swear that i'll jump.  born to kill, tiny slice of the throat //

Haai makes no move to follow Bart as he stands, just simply watches the man as he steps into the kitchen, even after his show of sticking his tongue out at her. All she does is puff a hint of smoke from her maw as she settles and nestles her head in between her paws, letting her wings drape over the edges of her makeshift nest.

Sunjata pours the whiskey into the glass and Bart finds it quickly. “I wouldn’t mind.” Sunjata offers with a soft laugh, a slight shake of his head. “I never, uh, learned how. So it’s all just been trial and error trying to make something edible for my daughter and I.” His nose wrinkles a fraction, recollecting the meals that were less than spectacular, but at least still edible.

Bart downs the whiskey and Sunjata slides the bottle over toward his brother in law in case the man wants to top up again, before he sinks into a bar stool at the counter and takes a sip from his after he pulls the cigarette from his lips. “Then we’ll get along in that regard.” Sunjata chimes, lifting his glass in a small mock toast before taking yet another sip. “How, uh, how’d you get here? Just… Sucked up into a portal and dropped at the Port?” He asks, unsure if it’s a safe question to ask, but is far too curious.

a new pill, or the poison you know, let it spill && i swear that i'll go

SUNJATA

Now I know there's no one I can trust - I used to think there was
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed

Bart chokes a little on the whiskey as it goes down when Scarface mentions a daughter, and tries to pass it off as the normal burn of alcohol - not that that's any less embarrassing, he's certainly no lightweight. "'m sorry, did ya say daughter? Magic can knock dudes up here too?" The medical training inside him sounds like a dying car alarm at the mere prospect. The far quieter gay panic is staunchly ignored. "Wait, so I have a niece?" Pardon the delay on that realization considering the whole pregnant cisgender men thing. "And y'can't even cook fer her?" The hits keep coming and they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming -

Okay so clearly he has his work cut out for him trying to keep his brother-in-law and niece alive until Nate gets back from his little monsoon trip.

The question makes him pause, taking a long silent moment before grabbing for the bottle to top himself up. He hadn't been intending to do so, but the inquiry alone is enough to inspire him to pour another glass and down it right after. Bart hasn't even had a full day to come to terms with his own death and subsequent teleportation, but that's not going to stop him from running headfirst into the topic like a raging bull on steroids. "Well uh, got in a fight with th' old man. He broke a bottle on my face, cut me on accident." His hand trails up to touch the thick scar on his neck, swallows hard at the unfamiliar knot there and stares into the whiskey in the glass. "One moment I was bleedin' out on the rug, the next...rain." And a helluva lot of it.

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear

BARTHOLOMEW

// do my worst, shoot the moon, stab the sun. got a curse, on the tip of my tongue
you go first, and i swear that i'll jump.  born to kill, tiny slice of the throat //

“What? No.” Sunjata offers with a bark of surprised laughter. “It’s uh… Complicated.” Given the fact that Nate isn’t back yet, that he hasn’t decided whether or not he wanted to stay through it, Sunjata doesn’t know exactly how to answer the question. Is Kamaria Bart’s niece if Nate didn’t want anything to do with the star child? Complicated. And it’s that look that has a brief shadow crossing his gaze. So he pours a decent amount in the glass and knocks it back, lets it swirl in his gut.

And with a heavy breath, his hip rests against the counter that he’s backed against. “Nate’s trip is sort of… A break for us. I fucked up and he left. He said he’d be back to tell me what he decides, so you’ll definitely see him.” But it still fills his gut with unease to admit it to his brother in law who might try to kick his ass about it. He wouldn’t blame the other man. “I made a bargain to protect Nate with a goddess here. My end of the bargain is her having my daughter and me raising her.” He chews on his bottom lip briefly. “So. Until Nate decides what he wants to do, I’m not entirely sure if you wanna start calling her your niece yet.” He cocks his head slightly as he regards Bart, standing still as his gaze scans his brother in law. “If he decides to stay, though, and we can get past it then yeah she’s your niece and yeah I can’t cook for her. Not at all like Nate can cook.”

He lets that settle while Bart dives into the conversation of how he’d ended up here – a slight grimace overcoming his face, tugging at the scar that spans his cheek. “Fuck.” He rumbles – a similar experience held within him, but he didn’t die or anything. Subconsciously, he does raise his hand to his neck, to the line that drifts beneath his ear, down under a compass tattoo, before disappearing beneath his collar. And of course, the other one his father had given him that’s stark on his face as well. “Welp, at least you’re here now. Pretty far away from him.” He’s a bit at a loss of what to say.

a new pill, or the poison you know, let it spill && i swear that i'll go

SUNJATA

Now I know there's no one I can trust - I used to think there was
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed

Bart blows the air out from his lungs in a swift go between pursed lips. "Thank god, I can only deal with so much fuckin' world altering in one day." Going through sex-ed all over again isn't exactly high on his list. 'Complicated' he can understand - and he waves a hand loosely as he sips at his drink once more, happy to file that conversation for a later date. Not his monkey, not his rodeo. Or, fuck, something. Bart doesn't want to delve into his brother's marriage when the dude isn't even present.

Not that it exempts him from the conversation entirely. In fact Bart's jaw feathers slightly as he grinds his teeth, darker eyes narrowing as they slowly rise to Sunjata. The admission is appreciated in terms of honesty, really, but hearing his brother has been hurt by his husband sparks something dark in his chest after all these years of not having Nate at all. "I'll hold off on layin' ya out until he gets back and tells me whether I can then," he vows, voice a deep rumble that communicates plainly that as much as Bart might respect Sunjata right now, it's nowhere near enough to spare him from getting his ass kicked if Nate gives Bart the go-ahead. Draining his glass to give them both a moment, he clears his throat. "Least I can do is cook for ya till he gets here though. Not lettin' ya use the starvin' orphan card to sway his guilt when he arrives." It's a joke wrapped in truth, which is all Scarface deserves right now.

Grimacing, Bart nods at the man's empathetic response, appreciating it for what it means. The lack of finesse to the reply is perfectly fine by him. "Yeah, far as I can possibly get huh?" Humor creases a wry grin into his face, and he licks the residual alcohol from his lips. "Ya eaten tonight, then?" Feeling antsy and like he needs to get to work. Do something with his hands so he can try to digest this entire shitshow. If not, well, he can always do the tried and true method of staring at the ceiling till his eyes burn.

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear

BARTHOLOMEW

// do my worst, shoot the moon, stab the sun. got a curse, on the tip of my tongue
you go first, and i swear that i'll jump.  born to kill, tiny slice of the throat //

There’s a held breath that’s released with a bit more ease at the mention of not getting an ass kicking until after Nate gets back and whether it calls for it or not. It isn’t like Sunjata couldn’t hold his own with it, but he’s certainly the type of take it because he knows he deserves it versus wanting to fight back about it.

That’s neither here nor there, though, and at least he’s explained what complicates everything to a point that hopefully isn’t too overwhelming for Bart – even if he knows it would be should he have arrived to find out the same – and there’s a bit of recognition and surprise with how well Bart seems to compartmentalize it.

A snort is given to Bart, along with a nod. “Yeah. Kamaria and I have eaten tonight already, so feel free to make something for yourself.” He’s got enough booze to make it last the night at the least. And if Bart prefers, Sunjata would absolutely leave him be until it’s time to show him to his room – one they will have to make up and adjust for him to stay in.

At the very least, though, a piece of the familial puzzle was coming back.

- FIN <333

a new pill, or the poison you know, let it spill && i swear that i'll go

SUNJATA