Date: February 28th, 2005
Characters: Willis Travers, Vincent Crabbe
Location: Streets of Stoatshead Hill
Status: Semi-Public (it being an open street, and all)
Summary: Willis is wandering, runs into a Mr. Crabbe. HRM.
Completion: Complete
(
You remind me of someone, boy. )
Comments 26
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Willis had been in a decent mood. He'd been accommodating, making nice more than was his norm. It wasn't as if he'd been the one running into people. He'd been thinking about something, yeah, and it hadn't been about running into anyone (not that it wouldn't be funny, but he had something better to think about). And he didn't like kids like that, the ones that thought they were worlds above the rest, walking in their own fucking world. Some days, he'd take it. Let 'em go, maybe make a snide remark. But, damnit, this one...
Fuck, he didn't know. Something clicked, there, and it was enough to call a different action, and one that felt right enough. Turning sharply, he grabbed at the kid's arm, sneering suddenly.
"You want to watch where you're walking, boy."
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He had no desire to get into a brawl in the middle of the street with some riff-raff, but that didn't mean he was going to let the man get away with grabbing him unchecked, although the other man seemed to be spoiling for a fight.
Not checking his urge to sneer, he turned again to go, saying again with false politeness, "If you'll excuse me?"
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Willis wasn't going to bother with the particulars of the kid's insult, but it'd been there, all too obvious. The hell was this kid to go on with this sort of talk? Anyone who thought he could get away with that so easily was dead fucking wrong.
And then Willis laughed, short and loud, though he didn't smile. Kid thought he was funny, didn't he? "You ain't leaving just yet, not when you're going to be looking like that." He made a warning of his voice; whether the kid listened or not--probably not, not the way he was--Willis was going to make his point. Whatever the hell it was.
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"You sure about that?" He raised his eyebrows, then laughed. "Hell if I'd want to know him again, anyhow, and I'm not sure you sound much better."
He doubted that knowing his own name'd help any, but what the hell. "I'd be Willis Travers." The boy should know the name, but then again, so should the others, and too many of 'em seemed ignorant. A damned shame, that was.
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