Frank - Old friend (NSFW - Language)
The street was easy to walk with the long, ground-eating strides that Frank was accustomed to. He had a small arsenal in his coat, but even so he felt strangely naked without his truck, without his boys, without telling anyone where he might be going. Walking in the late-spring cool, Frank took the flask from his pocket and had a nice, deep pull without breaking stride. It burned as it went down, burned as it passed through him, passed fire throughout his body and give him a sense of being alive. More than ever, this felt like the excuse of being a real person. When the cold bit into him, Frank wanted another drink, but it animated something deeper.
As he passed the gate, Frank felt something leave him. There was an exchange at the same time, and Frank started to mumble. "I'm sorry it's been so long. Work doesn't bring me here of-...fuck, that's a lie. I live here now. And, shit, I am the kind of thing we used to go after. They even made me a fucking king, and I might be again."
There was only silence in response. Frank gathered his thoughts before continuing. "There was, for a while anyway, fuckin' ghosts and shit all over that had to be dealt with. They killed some people, and the group controlling them...Well, took 'em down, and hard. Didn't kill anyone, but you know, I really wanted to. In the old days, it'd have been easier, could've broken a few kneecaps, no problem. But now, sometimes it feels like giving into that'll be the start of something. I get wrath, I embrace it and become it, but that...
" 's how I got out. Anger. Brutality. I ripped my fucking arm out of the shackle, from wherever it was...There was pain, but that just made me angrier. I shoved aside everything in my way, smashed my way through, just to get OUT." Frank took a steadying drink. "Ahhhh...good shit, this. Eats through my flasks, but it gives a bit of warmth, and fuck if it isn't foggy as...I don't know, some seriously fucking foggy thing. Anyway.
"It's always there. Been teaching the mer-chica, and that's just...a headache. She gets some stuff now, but there are times most days when the most basic things just fuckin' elude her, and I want to shake the shiny shit off of her. I swear to G...I swear, it's a real test of the anger. I know that it's bubbling down there, waiting...it's almost come out a few times with people lately, and when it does...I don't know. I've only been able to cut loose once, with those mob dicks, and even then...I had to hold back. It was like running full-out towards a cliff, and then stopping on a dime right before the edge...
"I know, one of these days, it's going to go over. I hope that Jason is there, or the others, to put me down. Else...I've been thinking about what that bishop said, and after the market, there's just fucking shame. I'm rethinking a lot of things, lately. I don't know...I wish you were here. You always had good advice, knew the path. You'd say 'quit your fucking whining, boy, there's work to be done. And stop hogging all the drink.'"
Frank shook his head and tilted the flask to his side, dribbling some of the liquid inside out over the ground. He nodded to the stone market. "Thanks for the advice, Father. As always, keep to the path." Frank emptied the flask and went off in search of a drink.
As he passed the gate, Frank felt something leave him. There was an exchange at the same time, and Frank started to mumble. "I'm sorry it's been so long. Work doesn't bring me here of-...fuck, that's a lie. I live here now. And, shit, I am the kind of thing we used to go after. They even made me a fucking king, and I might be again."
There was only silence in response. Frank gathered his thoughts before continuing. "There was, for a while anyway, fuckin' ghosts and shit all over that had to be dealt with. They killed some people, and the group controlling them...Well, took 'em down, and hard. Didn't kill anyone, but you know, I really wanted to. In the old days, it'd have been easier, could've broken a few kneecaps, no problem. But now, sometimes it feels like giving into that'll be the start of something. I get wrath, I embrace it and become it, but that...
" 's how I got out. Anger. Brutality. I ripped my fucking arm out of the shackle, from wherever it was...There was pain, but that just made me angrier. I shoved aside everything in my way, smashed my way through, just to get OUT." Frank took a steadying drink. "Ahhhh...good shit, this. Eats through my flasks, but it gives a bit of warmth, and fuck if it isn't foggy as...I don't know, some seriously fucking foggy thing. Anyway.
"It's always there. Been teaching the mer-chica, and that's just...a headache. She gets some stuff now, but there are times most days when the most basic things just fuckin' elude her, and I want to shake the shiny shit off of her. I swear to G...I swear, it's a real test of the anger. I know that it's bubbling down there, waiting...it's almost come out a few times with people lately, and when it does...I don't know. I've only been able to cut loose once, with those mob dicks, and even then...I had to hold back. It was like running full-out towards a cliff, and then stopping on a dime right before the edge...
"I know, one of these days, it's going to go over. I hope that Jason is there, or the others, to put me down. Else...I've been thinking about what that bishop said, and after the market, there's just fucking shame. I'm rethinking a lot of things, lately. I don't know...I wish you were here. You always had good advice, knew the path. You'd say 'quit your fucking whining, boy, there's work to be done. And stop hogging all the drink.'"
Frank shook his head and tilted the flask to his side, dribbling some of the liquid inside out over the ground. He nodded to the stone market. "Thanks for the advice, Father. As always, keep to the path." Frank emptied the flask and went off in search of a drink.