Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190616163743/@comment-5543592-20190623233848

Willy's door slid shut as Tanner backed away, returning to his own room.

His door slid shot behind him, the automatic lock sealing with a hiss. He kicked off his boots and trudged over to the bed, where his coat lay, haphazardly tossed. He sat down next to it, the bed squeaking as he dropped his weight onto it.

God, was he tired. Tired all the time. When he was drinking, when he wasn’t. He wondered what caused that. The photokinesis? His lifestyle? Maybe just actual fatigue. What he wouldn’t give for a good rest. To shut his eyes and never reopen them. The hurt went away for those brief, blissful moments just before and after sleep. When all his cares, worries, and insecurities drifted away and there was nothing but the pull of a night’s rest. The drowsiness of a morning, when he wasn’t quite sure where he was, couldn’t remember what he’d been doing last. Those were the best moments, the ones he wished he could remain in. But they slipped by quickly, and soon the weight of experience and life was flung into him at full force, the sheer strain of it dragging him back into the land of the living, whether he wanted it or not.

''To lay down forever. It would be easy.''

Tanner turned on the bed, and reached into his coat. His hand found the revolver easily enough. What had he said to Eva? ‘He was only here because he felt like he needed to be.’   Yeah, right. He constantly surprised himself with his own arrogance and self-righteousness.

He turned The Gun that Won the West over in his hands. It was smooth, with a long barrel, lacquered black. He kept it regularly polished and oiled, and it almost gleamed in the sharp overhead lighting. The weapon had been designed to hurt Hades. Kill him, maybe, although he’d never know now. Tanner’d killed him. Other thing he’d regretted he’d been forced to do. That was his whole life. Being forced into things. Forced to find a cure for his illness, forced to hunt Hades, forced now to face Shrike. No one gave him his choice.

There are few things, Tanner thought, in our own control. He took a steadying breath and pressed the barrel of the revolver up into the soft of his jaw. The cold metal raised the hairs on his skin.

Tanner so frequently felt out of control. Addiction did that to you. And slipping up for him meant a lot of pain for other people. When it came to Tanner’s particular type of weird, lowering his guard wasn’t an option. It was better this way. At least this way he came to it on his own accord. His finger pressed down on the trigger.

--

“You pity ‘em?”

Tanner, crouching over the cliff’s edge, had to awkwardly twist to look at looked over at the Boss. From this outcropping they could look down at the ramshackle settlement. The settlers lived in the equivalent of mud huts, wore Vault suits that had fallen to literal pieces, held together by ancient string “Huh? Who?”

The Boss angrily pulled the cigar out of his mouth, “Don’t ‘huh’ me, boy, who the fuck you think?”   Smoke drifted from between his lip as he breathed out. He leaned forwards, the lawn chair creaking.

Tanner looked back down at the settlement, thoughtful for a moment. “I wonder why they keep on going.”

The Boss scoffed, flicking ash off the end of the cigar, pursing up his scarred lips. “Why do any of us keep goin’? Yous think just ‘cause life sucks more dick than a Vietnamese salon that’s any reason to give up. Nah. Ain’t about hard you can hit, it’s about hard you can get hit and keep on going.”   The Boss said, punctuating that remark with a thoughtful wave of his cigar.

Tanner frowned at that last line. “That sounds like it’s from a movie.”

“It ain’t.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’ve definitely heard that before.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Don’t see fucking how, ‘cause I finna made it up.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Tanner opened his mouth to argue, but the Boss overrode him. “Not more words outta you, I’m talking. Lemme ask you this—you ever feel that way?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Feel what way?”

<p class="MsoNormal">The Boss threw his hands up in a gregarious gesture, and looked around as if seeking help from an invisible audience, “Christ alive, what’s it with you and repeating questions, the hell you think I mean? You ever feel like there ain’t no reason ta ‘keep going?’”   The Boss dropped his cigar, stomped down on it. “Like life ain’t got more to give you?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Tanner looked down, silently, as the Boss read into the subtext of his words. Tanner did feel that way. Frequently. He felt he’d been dealt a very unfair hand in terms of things, and it was difficult to feel positive about it at times.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, you would.”   The Boss nodded. “Can’t say I blame you either. Most kids in your situation, they be feeling the same. Hell, most anyone. You know what the problem with that is?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Tanner looked over at him. “What?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Its pussy shit.”   The Boss said. “Anyone who decides to off themselves is a fucking coward. Or an idiot. ‘Cause no matter who you are, it’s the stupidest shit you can do. I don’t care if you’re shit, scum of the fucking earth. Don’t care if I’d kill you myself. Man upstairs only gives you one shot, son. Ain’t worth wasting. No matter who shit that one shot gets, it ain’t nearly as shit as dead. Aight?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Tanner gave him a funny “Don’t you believe in heaven and stuff?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Heaven’s for stupid people.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“You believe in god.”   Tanner said, thinking he’d point that out.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Humble man believes in God.”   The Boss. “Gotta be fucking arrogant to think you know the end all be all ‘bout that. Nah, heaven’s a panacea. Shit made-up to keep the masses in line. ‘Work hard now so you can go live in the clouds when you bite it, you dumb darkie.’   ‘Step out of line, you going to hell, boy.’   That’s heaven. God’s sumin’ different.”   The Boss held up his hands. “Ain’t my point though.

<p class="MsoNormal">“You gotta lot to offer, kid.”   The Boss said, looking at him seriously. “Don’t deprive people’a that. We’re gonna get you healthy, gonna get you back to your folks, and you’re gonna live a long and happy life. Remember, it’s my ass that’s on the line doing this for you. I’d be pissed off if you fucked it all up by killing yourself.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Tanner smiled wryly, and his reply was sarcastic, “Wouldn’t dream of disappointing you, Boss.”

<p class="MsoNormal">The old ghoul grunted. “Whatever. Don’t even listen to a word I say anyway. Just get back to watching these people, gotta see if they have’a vault hidden down there somewhere.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Tanner nodded, turning away, as the Boss withdrew another cigar from his coat.

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">He steadily lifted his finger from the trigger, the mechanism clicking as it eased back, a hair away from firing.

<p class="MsoNormal">No, this wasn’t’ him. This was the illness. The psyker part of him, the part of it he couldn’t control. For every affect an effect. This was the cost of his “joy ride.”   A close call.

<p class="MsoNormal">As he set the pistol aside his hand shook and he had to work hard to steady his breathing against the sudden surge of adrenaline. He’d nearly killed himself.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Don’t be a pussy.”   Tanner muttered to himself, standing up and heading over to his restroom. “Don’t be a pussy.”   He needed a shower.