Tie One On

Peter Terrified of what I'd be As a kid, from what I've seen Every single day, when people try And put the pieces back together Just to smash them down The Rathskeller, and the path to it, were not at all what Peter had expected for a bar. He couldn’t decide what exactly he had expected, but he knew this wasn’t it. There was life in this place, though not much considering how early in the day it was. Adam seemed to know the room well, greeting people like they were old friends and swaggering around as if he owned the place. He picked them a table, handled the drinks, while Peter stood by awkwardly, trying to make himself look as small as possible, which was not a difficult task considering the size he was, and the layers of clothing he wore. Once they were seated, it was easier for him to relax, and sip at the drink Adam had brought him. Too bitter for him by a wide margin, but he would keep his mouth shit and drink it anyway. ”You uh... you said something about a... about a job, before?” Adam had said a lot, but it was the job part that stuck out. Getting a job had been one of the things suggested to him when he first arrived, but he had been having difficulty with it. That, and it seemed the easiest topic to bring back up again.

If Adam noticed Peter's awkwardness he didn't seem to be bothered or effected by it at all, easily strolling into the Rathskeller and greeting people there who he'd come to know in the last few days. It had always been a talent of his to make fast friends wherever he went, and it had been no different here; it appeared people really were just people even in...Hell? Another dimension? He took a hearty gulp from his own drink in contrast to Peter's dainty sip and put his feet up on a spare chair next to him, melting into the scene as if he had always been there (and in a way, he had. He'd grown up in bars much like this). "Huh? Oh. Nah, just that I don't have one anymore. I'm a Highwayman, usually, best damn one there is, but..." Adam looked about and tutted as if disappointed in the place. "No roads here, no guards. What the hell is the point? Guess I just gotta go back to being a boring thief. It's lacking the fucking glamour, you know?" Peter probably didn't, but Adam breezed past that. "You look like a criminal sort. Assassin? Thief?" He asked the question casually, looking down into his mug and only briefly glancing at Peter sideways at the end of the question. ADAM And I don’t like to bare my soul to strangers But show me yours and I’ll show you mine

Peter Terrified of what I'd be As a kid, from what I've seen Every single day, when people try And put the pieces back together Just to smash them down Highwayman was not a term familiar to Peter, so he couldn’t be the judge of whether Adam was the best or not (he didn’t think Adam was, not matter what it was) but he could tell it involved some kind of thievery. Thanks in no small part to Adams complaining about it not being glamorous. Peter wasn’t actually sure he was following any of this conversation if he was being honest, but he sipped his drink and nodded like he was. At the insinuation that he was a ‘criminal type’, Peter looked down at looked down at himself, as if trying to figure out what exactly it was about him that gave him away. The dark clothes? The multitude of scars? The grip of a blade in his belt? ”I did... I did what I was told. I was a good listener.” It was the truth, though perhaps not as specific as Adam had been looking for. “Right now I don’t uh... there’s no one to tell me, so I... so I don’t so much.”

A good listener? That could really mean anything. An actor, assassin, prostitute, priest...though with that amount of scars the last two were unlikely. Adam was clearly confused from the frown on his face and the slow way he raised his mug up to his face again, watching Peter carefully. "Who normally...uh...tells ya? I just do shit that I feel like doing. Why do you need someone to tell you?" The idea of needing an outside instruction to do something was alien to Adam, who had always been a free agent, subject only to the swerving desires and whims of his own heart. He could tell something was different about Peter, though. The way he hunched over just slightly, touched things as if he was scared he would break them...there was something in him that seemed fragile, hurt. ADAM And I don’t like to bare my soul to strangers But show me yours and I’ll show you mine

Peter Terrified of what I'd be As a kid, from what I've seen Every single day, when people try And put the pieces back together Just to smash them down The eyes on him seemed to grow sharper, actually watching him instead of just looking over him. Peter shifted under the new intensity, not comfortable with the focus. In an effort to break the contact, or at least distract himself, Peter lifted the mug to his lips again, accidentally mirroring Adam. There was another beat of uncomfortable silence as Peter considered the question, his eyes carefully focused on a point just above Adam's shoulder, before he shrugged in an obviously long practised 'casual' action. "I was... told by Alex. Do this. Kill him. Steal that." Peter slouched down in his seat a little more, reaching out to run a finger along the rim of his glass before looking up at Adam properly. "It is... was..? Is... It is important work." It wasn't as convincing as he wanted it to be, considering how much he was trying to convince himself with the same words. "Why do you care?" Peter asked suddenly, his brows pinching together in suspicion. Adam was different from him, very different. It didn't make sense to Peter that he'd even want anything to do with him, unless he needed something specific. Even that didn't make sense to Peter though, his mind swirling as he tried to figure out what the other man wanted.

Alex...Adam had no idea who that was, but he sounded like your average crime boss ordering lackeys about to do his dirty work. Instinctively he made a face; Adam had done odd jobs for such people before but much preferred those who did their work for themselves and took on all the responsibility of their acts. "Everybody thinks their work is important, buddy." He wasn't really sure if his was, in a grand societal sense, but it was certainly important to him. He was a bit surprised by the sudden suspicious question and took a drink before he answered, showing that he was calm and not about to bend to demanding queries. "Just making conversation. You never just had a chat and a drink before? Jeez. C'mon. Why don't you ask me something, then?" ADAM And I don’t like to bare my soul to strangers But show me yours and I’ll show you mine

Peter Terrified of what I'd be As a kid, from what I've seen Every single day, when people try And put the pieces back together Just to smash them down "Wouldn't... wouldn't do it if it wasn't." Peter huffed, trying and failing to hide the uncertainty in his voice. Of course the work he'd done was important, they helped people. Hurt a lot of people too but only those who deserved it. This had all been so much easier when he didn't need to rationalise any of it. Adam stayed calm in the face of his suspicions, not faltering or cracking once. Peter kept up his hard stare a moment longer, then sighed and dropped his eyes. This was his first time in a situation like this, more casual and relaxed than anything he was accustomed to. It wasn't as if this was his first time feeling out of his depth, but something about this just put Peter on edge. Maybe it was something about Adam? Peter's gaze moved over Adam's face while he thought, not sure what kind of question he should ask. He took a healthy swig from his mug, his nose curling involuntarily at the taste. With the heat of alcohol settling in his belly, Peter felt some of his anxiety bleed away. "If you're uh... If you're a thief, how you dress li-like... dress like that?"

"Oh, sure." By this point Adam was pretty sure he had Peter worked out. Probably an orphan forced into some kind of criminal labour. Definitely a tragic backstory, some whippings and stabbings by the looks of him...a lack of emotion and inability to deal with anything other than death. He ran across these kinds of guys about five times a week in crime bars back home. Usually if you just ignored them and weren't their target, they went away. The question made him laugh. Adam ran a hand down his chest, pushing up the edge of his shirt juuuust enough that Peter would be able to see his sides, make out enough of his body to imagine him shirtless (if he wanted to, and well, why wouldn't he?) "Because I'm fucking hot and I gotta show it off, thief or not." With a cocky grin he leaned forward onto the table and looked Pet up and down. "Did you do a like, scarification thing, or is this just a lotta hard work?" ADAM And I don’t like to bare my soul to strangers But show me yours and I’ll show you mine

Peter Terrified of what I'd be As a kid, from what I've seen Every single day, when people try And put the pieces back together Just to smash them down Red spread across Peters face in blotchy patches, his eyes locked on the silhouette of Adams chest. There was an ache in Peters chest, a piece of him seeming to recall some dream within a dream urge deep in his core. Adams voice dragged him, rather abruptly, back into the moment. Peter blinked a handful of times, as if trying to adjust to the light in the bar.Yhe first sentence mad ePeter drop his gaze, his flush spreading down his neck and into his ears. The second question seemed to confuse Peter at first, the unfamiliar word tripping him up. As soon as he understood the question though, he hid his hands under the table, uncomfortable with the reminder of them. He chewed his bottom lip, teeth worrying a welt into it, which he considered how to answer. He could tell Adam the real and proper truth, but that would be horrifying for both of them, and it was as likely that the entire question had been a joke as it was thatvir was serious. Those weren’t exactly the best odds. Staying silent didn’t necessarily feel like the right choice either, so Peter improvised, and responded with a bold (firhim) rebuttal. “How did you get your scars?” The words weren’t snappy so much as challenging, but there was the beginning of a notebook in them.

His posing had had the intended effect of making Peter blush, and Adam kept it up a little more, straightening his back and leaning onto the table just so that his shirt hung open enough for more of him to be visible. Waiting for an answer to his question he drank from his cup, tipping his neck up more than necessary. But no answer came, just a question, one that as hypocritical as it was made Adam tense up immediately. He moved up his hand as if to try and hide the obvious, large rips across his chin and jaw. "How about you answer my question before you ask your own, huh?" He shot back, the words attempting to be light and teasing but coming out surprisingly bitter. ADAM And I don’t like to bare my soul to strangers But show me yours and I’ll show you mine

Peter Terrified of what I'd be As a kid, from what I've seen Every single day, when people try And put the pieces back together Just to smash them down All of the tenseness that had bled out of Peter during his time spent with Adam came back as soon as he heard the tone of the other mans voice. There was an immediate change in him, his face hardening and his hands closing. For a long moment, he stared, eyes narrowed, reassessing the man before him. ”Got mine from lots of things.” It was barely an answer, and still more than he had to give, but... answering still felt safest. Adam was understandably vain, and soothing his ego, at least a little bit, was going down to be easier to do than start a fight. Without thinking, Peter reached outband took another sip from the mug in front of him, his face not twisting like it had before. There was an immediate pang of regret though. He’d just wanted something to do with his hands, to be... casual. Or as close as he could get.

Peter backed down from their short, invisible stand-off and Adam visibly relaxed, not really listening to the answer he was given. With his right pointer finger he stroked down from the scar that got to the corner of his mouth to it's end by the side of his neck, feeling each bump and stretch of skin. It was ugly, felt so huge and obvious when he couldn't see it. "...Right. Anyway." As if a switch had been pressed, all the tension in Adam melted away and he relaxed again, sinking into the chair and downing his drink. The burn in his throat promised a chance to forget the whole conversation and he planned to get another in the very near future. "So what are you gonna do now, Peter? Ain't no Alex here to tell you what to do." ADAM And I don’t like to bare my soul to strangers But show me yours and I’ll show you mine

Peter Terrified of what I'd be As a kid, from what I've seen Every single day, when people try And put the pieces back together Just to smash them down Adam was maybe able to shake off his tension like an overlarge coat, but it was not so simple for Peter. He felt stupid for letting himself get into a situation like this, but at least they were somewhere public. Quick eyes scanned the bar, wondering absently if people here would speak up if something happened. The name that dropped off Adams lips had Peters eyes back on him in an instant, blue eyes cold, something approaching anger simmering just below the surface of him. ”I don’t know. Find other work.” His voice was clipped, the answers short and careful, not inviting anything. It was a question that had been echoing around Peters own head though, and that was impossible to fully escape in his tipsy state. The truth was, he had no idea what to do with himself without orders of some kind. He had hoped having a place to stay, and chase a sense of normalcy in would be nice, but so far it just made him feel even more out of place. His uncertainty showed in the way he chewed his bottom lip, and took another sip of his drink. The bottom was coming up on his as well, though the effects of it were obviously haha trig him a little harder than Adam.

Other work? If only it were that easy. Adam wanted to find other work too, but for people with their kind of talents it was going to be difficult. There were no guards to rebel against, no royals to rob; hardly anyone had anything worth taking in the first place and if they started murdering people, they'd run out before the end of the season. Really, the only solution was to learn a real trade, and he hated that. "Good fucking luck with that then, mate." He said with a laugh, placing his empty mug down on the table and standing. "I'm gonna go get me another drink, down it, then go and jerk off or something, I don't fucking know. Try not to die." With this charming goodbye over, Adam waved and walked back to the bar, thinking Peter would likely be gone within the week. He seemed small, lost, like someone who didn't know how to survive without a leader. There were no leaders here. Adam didn't want to admit it, but it was throwing him off too. He was just better at hiding it. ADAM And I don’t like to bare my soul to strangers But show me yours and I’ll show you mine