Road To Acceptance (Minor Language)

[Anty]

And that was the problem: Scar didn't want to care anymore. He didn't want to care about any of it. Before he knew it his fists were balled up, preparing to beat the shit out of Ryan's face. But instead he took a deep breath and pushed his fingers into his eyes, trying to clear away his life. He wished he could care less about everything. He sighed, fighting down the urge to strike Ryan across the face. It was just one of those days when you just don't want to wake up, everybody sucks, but you don't know why. You feel like ripping someone's head off, and if you interact, your life is on the contract. But every day was one of those days for Scar. His anger often overpowered his own will. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and everyone was watching them again. He sighed.

The first thing he did was stand up, then he flipped the room off. He grabbed Ryan by the his sleeve, "Come on, we need somewhere more private. He stepped outside into the mild night and took in the fresh air. He leaned back against the brick wall, his hands in his pockets. "Look, I thought you were different, I thought you cared about me. But now I realized that you're just the same as everyone in this disgusting world. And I don't want to care anymore, there is nothing to care about. I just want to fight. Nothing else matters. I can't control my anger, you know that. It's my only escape. To just let it all go."

[Waddle]

Ryan followed Scar out and stood in front of the boy, but he stared around, eyes restless, searching the shadows. He didn't realize he was shifting from one foot to the other. For some reason, he felt more exposed and crowded around out here than he had inside. He couldn't explain why. He only half listened to Scar speak. The solution was simple to him. It all depended on the boy. This wasn't something anyone could choose for him. His anger was something of his own accord, and he could control it if he wished. Mostly, that is. Ryan wasn't able to control his sleeplessness, or his short attention spam, but he could usually control his random urges. Urges were feelings. Rage was a feeling.

"Control yourself, boy. Don't let it control you." His voice was harsh, and he spoke quickly. Why was he so nervous? Stopping himself, he took a breath. If he couldn't control himself in front of Scar, then the boy would point out that Ryan couldn't handle his own disorders at that very moment. Finding a cold center, he looked back at the boy. "You can find other ways to let all of it go. I care for you, Scar. At least, I did. I'm not sure anymore, but I left you because I cared for you. They were right on my heels about murdering my father. Do what you want, though. It's none of my concern." With that, he went past Scar and back into the bar. He heard a commotion from the corner and went to see what it was.

Anthony was fighting. He was drunk, too. And he was fighting some other, much taller, much more muscular fellow, hand-to-hand. And it looked like a fair match. But the larger man pinned Anthony down, and his fist rose to begin punching the smaller man. Ryan stepped forward, through the circle that had gathered, and caught the man's fist in his own, pulling out his knife and laying it against the man's wrist. He was completely cold and calm. "There's a large blood vein right where I have my knife. If I cut deep enough, you will have bled out in three minutes, no matter if you try to stanch the flow. If I slit your throat, you will be dead in half a minute." As he said it, the knife moved to the frozen man's throat. "Get off him and you won't die today." Slowly, the stranger stood. Ryan let go of the man's fist and the guy backed away. Ryan looked down at the drunk Anthony. "Now who looks like shit?"

[Anty]

Scar had begun bouncing up and down on his heels without knowing it. He felt like destroying something. His blood was racing. It was a perfect night for a fight. He felt it deep within. It was just beneath the skin. He had gone 4 years without a fight, save his one cellmate, and now that he was out of prison the urge had been stronger than ever. The need. "I don't think you understand... I need to fight. I feel the rage and I just can't hold it in. It's not just in my head, it is part of me. I ripped my cellmate's throat out with my teeth. There is something in me that isn't me. There's an animal in me... " Little did he know he was telling the truth.

Scar followed silently in Ryan's footsteps, unseen. He watched in awe as Ryan did his magic with the knives. It was genius. He couldn't control it any longer. He gripped the man's sweaty t-shirt with one hand and with the other hand he broke his jaw. No one dared to mess with him.

Turns out Anthony had been flirting with the wrong girl, and soon her mountainous-looking boyfriend had interfered with their play. Anthony just smiled at him and said, "You wanna fight me for her, fatty?" He had had one too many drinks, hell, by then, he had had five too many drinks. It would have been a fair enough fight the guys slow moves leveled out with his huge size, except the fact that he kept hitting the wrong man, who would punch him back with twice the power that he had. Once the fight had finally begun, Anthony was already feeling like shit. And then Ryan had come and threatened the guy, which worked a lot better than fighting. "I told you, you would lose! You sorry bitch!" he told what happened to be the wrong man, and he kicked him in the nuts.

"You stupid sadistic whore..." he said as he reeled over in pain. It was excruciating. "Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" he said, obviously in pain. Then a figure was approaching, who turned out to be Ryan. "You look like shit... I look shit faced... "

[Waddle]

"Do you get enjoyment from being the clever one with the smart remarks?" he asked Anthony without caring. He had watched Scar break the man's jaw with some approval. But he also saw what the boy had been talking about. An animal... Maybe the boy had a talisman that hadn't revealed itself completely yet. Or maybe he had a talisman but wasn't sure if he should tell Ryan. The last was probably the most likely answer. Stepping close enough to Scar to whisper so low no one would hear him, he asked, "Do you have a Talisman too?" Now might now have been the place to discuss this. But it needed to be asked.

Four hours later...

Evan woke from a half doze and looked at the alarm beside the bed. It was half past midnight. He didn't think Anthony was home yet. Standing up, he changed into some fresh clothes, got his keys and cell phone and left the apartment. There was a bar by the mall... It was quite possible that Anthony had gotten... sidetracked. Evan would check there first.

Anty had ordered him to stay in bed for at least a few more days. But Evan felt fine as he strolled along, enjoying the night sounds and sights. Picking up the pace a little, he jogged the rest of the way to the bar. Going in, he scanned the room for his friend. It was crowded. It was going to be hard to find Anthony. Pacing around the room, he found Ant bent over a table, flirting with a bunch of girls. Evan rolled his eyes and came up behind Anthony, putting a hand on the other man's shoulder and drawing him back. "Please excuse us, ladies," he said simply. He pulled the drunk Anthony a few paces away. "I ask you to go to get milk and you go to the bar. Very wise choice, Captain Spock." But he smiled as he said it. It had become almost impossible to not smile when he was around Anthony.

[Anty]

Anthony threw his head back and let out what he thought was a hysterical laugh, "Me? Smart?" he hesitated, trying to see the truth in the statement. "Shit man, you really are funny," he said in his totally wasted voice.

Scar slowly turned his head to give Ryan what was a truly freaked out, confused look. A what? Maybe that was some sort of beast that lived in Ryan's screwed up brain. Or maybe it was a Chinese state of mind. "I have to admit it Ryan, I really have missed your insanity," he told him, but there was a twinge of regret in his voice, he really wished he had been there to help Ryan with these difficult times. He leaned back so that he was just a few inches from Ryan's ear. "Listen man, I can't deny it any longer, I've really... " he trailed off, his eyes were red and he was on the verge of tears. "I've really missed you," he whispered, the words for Ryan's ears only.

Four hours later...

Anthony was leaned over a table packed with girls, probably a few years younger than him. He was wasted. He had a hand print on his left cheek where he had gotten bitch slapped and multiple lip prints covered his face. Some had told him they liked a man who knew how to fight. They were referring to about the many bruises he had, a result from punching the wrong guy earlier that same night. He had also done something very naughty with a girl and now his hair was ruffled and his fly undone. He felt a hand fall heavily to his shoulder. He waited for it to leave, but it didn't. He smiled what he thought was a seductive smile. "Hey, sexy, you wanna do-" he had turned his head around to find Evan. "Oh. Just you," he said, straightening up. He staggered backwards after Evan. One girl, the one he got knocked up, gestured for him to call her with her hand. "Don't worry, doll face," he told her. He gestured with his hand for Evan to drop the subject. "Look, I know, I just... Hey man, I got some digits." He flung his hand at Evan and hit his chest. In it was a wrinkled napkin with a phone number written in lipstick. He pulled out a napkin similar to that, except it had a large lip print beside it. He held it close to his face, "But that's not the only thing I got," he said, giving Evan a knowing, satisfied look.

[Waddle]

Ryan shook his head. Had he imagined Anthony saying he had a Talisman too? He felt a small smile touch his lips. "I missed you too, and I'm sorry," he strangled. He had to say something. Scar had just said something that seemed heart-felt. Ryan couldn't just leave him hanging. Again. But he wouldn't let himself grow close to anyone else, not like he had with Scar. He didn't want to hurt them. He also didn't want to have to apologize again. He gestured for Scar to follow him and walked to a corner of the bar. "Let me tell you what I know about Talismans..." And he started talking quickly about the war, Innocents, Hunters, Undecideds, Seekers, everything he knew on the subject.

------

Evan grunted quietly as Anty hit him in the chest. He took the napkin, looked at it, and shook his head. He needed to get Anthony out of here before he got himself into trouble. More trouble, that is. It was hard to not notice those bruises and the hand print on his cheek. Evan put the napkin in his back pocket and put an arm around Anthony. "I have an idea... You've been talking about getting your hair dyed blond, I think... We'll get it dyed tonight."

Ryan was half asleep leaning against the wall, eyes half open, seeing but not really registering what he saw. Until he noticed the stranger with Anthony, saw the latter seemingly punch the former. But it didn't appear to be anything aggressive. Either way, he stepped forward in time to hear the stranger suggest getting Anthony's hair dyed. Weird... Glancing around for Scar, Ryan didn't see him right off the bat, so he walked over. "Anthony, who's this?" he asked warily, hands in his pockets, fingering his knives.

[Anty]

Scar had fallen asleep, his head resting on the table in front of him and his hands in his pockets. He had been thinking about all of what Ryan had said before this had happened. Was this one of the many reasons he had such a strong need for violence? Was there truly an animal deep within his soul. If anything Ryan had said was true, then a few of his problems were solved. Or maybe Ryan was just teasing him and he hadn't realized it. He would just have to decide for himself. That's when he fell asleep. It had been a long time since he had slept, especially on his own accord.

Anthony stumbled after Evan. Had he said he wanted to die his hair? He had never once thought about murdering his hair. He waved to the barmaid; he had gotten quite close to her. A true patron. "Why would I kill my hair... ?" he asked, and looked over to Evan. But he had lost his footing and tripped over his own feet. He fell to his knees as they were coming to a stop. He stared at the ground and didn't bother getting up. He looked up at the approaching Ryan. He hesitated and squinted his eyes at Evan as he tried to recall who he was. This is... " he hesitated again, "Who are you?" he whispered loudly to Evan. But his drunken mind was now somewhere else. "Ryan!" he said excitedly as he snapped back to attention. "I got laid!"

[Waddle]

Evan looked down at Anthony. He felt a small pang in his heart that Anty couldn't remember him. Well, maybe it was even now. Evan had forgotten who Ant was. Now Ant had forgotten who Evan was. He looked at the other man named Ryan, then back down at Anthony. He felt another pang in his stomach, this one much stronger. Jealousy. Of the woman. Why was he jealous of Anthony getting laid by a woman? Because he loved Anty. Oh great, I've become a queer. He quickly pulled Anthony back to his feet. "It's me, Evan. And yes, do you want to get your hair dyed blond." He looked at Ryan hopefully and asked, "Doesn't he?"

Ryan shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Sure he does. Another tattoo, as well." He didn't really care. This guy Evan didn't seem to mean harm. He looked around again and spotted Scar, head down on a table. Poor kid. He probably thinks your completely insane now. Then another thought struck him. Don't think. Don't fucking think. Because when you think, you realize just how fucked up everything really is. You realize you don't know how you got where you are, you don't know where you're going, and you don't know what to do anymore. That quickly became his new policy. It was true, too. He had no idea how he had gotten here, or what he was doing here, and he didn't know where to go.

Evan's grin broadened. He put an arm around Anty's shoulders and started to walk to the door. He had full intentions on getting back at Anthony for this. It had started out as a joke, but now he thought it might be good revenge for Anthony getting laid and getting drunk again. It wouldn't hurt. Evan might have hell to pay after wards. But it was going to be fun.

Ryan shuffled toward Scar and pulled the sleeping boy's head up by the hair. "Come on. It's time we got out of here." He let go of Scar's hair and started to follow Evan and Anthony, catching up to them just as they got outside and followed them, a shadow that didn't try to hide its presence. He hid himself without having to think about it, staying ten paces behind the two.

[Anty]

Anthony stared up at Evan as he helped push himself back to his feet. And he kept staring. It was as if he was in a deep trance of blue. He stumbled forward and grabbed onto Evan's shirt for support. He leaned forward until his head was resting on his chest. He closed his eyes. But what had he said his name was? Oh, right. "It's okay Kevin, I remember exactly who you are now."

Scar was still unconscious as his head was lifted from the table. A baby couldn't sleep this good. It was quite sad because he hadn't slept in weeks, not on his own accord. Now he was passed out at a bar, which would have been fine, except that he was now being rudely awakened. He muttered a few words in what sounded like Korean. Or Russian. It was hard to tell. His head slammed against the table. He let out a scream. His eyes flashed open and his hand shot out to his throbbing forehead. The blood rushed past his ears. He looked up now, removing his head from the table. Ryan. But he didn't say anything. Just glared.

Anthony walked beside Kevin. He held on tightly to Kevin's hand, almost exactly like a toddler and their mommy. That's how Kevin made him feel, at least for now. He was safe, and Anthony liked that. And there was something else too... No, Anthony shook his head, trying to clear his head but only getting dizzy. He leaned heavily against Kevin's shoulder. "Don't let go, Kevin," he said, but then regretted it, because it sounded way too odd. "I might fall down." He didn't really care where they were going, mainly because he had no idea what they were going to do with him once they got there. As long as Kevin was there.

Scar slipped away far behind Ryan. He could see his outline, but just that. He wasn't really sure why he was, really. He knew Ryan didn't want him and he didn't know the other two. At all. Maybe it was because he really had no where to go. Or maybe he needed a good laugh. But he had a migraine, he was sure of that. The whiskey didn't help, and neither did the giant welt that was beginning to form on his face. It added to his frightening look, though. It made people veer away from him, or just stare. But he didn't care. He tried not to care. But it wasn't easy. Yet Ryan made it look so simple... His vision was blacking around the edges as his migraine progressively got worse. Fuck Ryan... No. Wait. The migraine was coming anyways. Ryan was just a huge contributing factor. Right?

[Waddle]

Kevin? Evan almost laughed, but decided against it. He smiled at Anthony. His friend was even cuter when he was drunk. Wait... Crap, he was thinking like that again. "I won't let you go, I promise," he replied. Keeping Anty on his feet was a good excuse to be this close to him, he though. No, wait. Why was he thinking like that?! It was so wrong on so many levels. He closed his eyes for a second, squeezing them tightly, trying to erase his head of mental images and thoughts he didn't want to see or think. He opened them again and ignored the few people that passed them. He glanced behind them and blinked as he saw someone following them. And was there another person? Yes, it was that Ryan fellow. And someone else. Evan only shrugged mentally and turned back around.

Ryan began to notice people staring at Scar after a while. He had started to look behind him, feeling a puny twinge of regret at seeing the welt on the boy's forehead. He slowed his pace and fell back beside Scar, not really sure why. Well, why not? countered the other side of his brain. He shut those thoughts up, remembering his new policy. Don't think. Just react to what happened around him. He noted that more people looked away from Scar quickly once he started walking beside the boy. He never realized that he had started muttering to himself. "Idiots, staring, wondering what in the world some strangers are doing disturbing their perfect little town, eh? Especially ones that look half cracked. We are cracked, I guess. That hasn't changed, some things haven't, but most things have, haven't they? Some things don't, and it's those that don't that you can never rely on to stay the same. That doesn't make sense... Stop thinking, Ryan, thinking only makes things more confusing."

Evan stopped in front of a store and knocked on the door, then entering with Anty. "Hey, Mo, you son of a bitch, Anthony here wants a hair dye and a tattoo," he called into the darkness. There was the sound of footsteps, then a light flipped on, revealing a cluttered little shop that was mixed between a barber's shop and a tattooing saloon, and also a middle-aged man standing at the other end of the store. "A dye and a tat?" Mo asked. "That's what I said, you old bastard! Losing your hearing or something?" Mo threw his hands in the air, then gestured to bring Anthony over to a chair. Evan led his friend over and sat him down in the chair. He grinned foolishly. "Blond, he wants," he told Mo. "Blond?" Mo had a habit of repeating things. The half barber half tattooer shrugged. Evan took a few steps back and started to examine the tattoos in a book of pictures, wondering which one Anthony would like.

[Anty]

Was Ryan talking to himself? Yes. Scar tried to focus on the road before them. He never liked listening in on conversations he wasn't apart of, it reminded him of his childhood, going back and forth between parents, relaying the voice of others. And it only made his migraine worse. He tried focusing on the road again, but even that was hard. "So you weren't just joking around about the talisman shit, were you?" His vision was almost completely gone now. And so was his focus. He looked over to Ryan and then back to his own feet. Which caused him to stumble. His foot caught onto the other and he fell forward. He had just enough to take a gasp of air before his face slammed against the concrete. He was pretty sure that his head bounced back from the power of the blow. If his face was already distorted from previous fights, well, now it was beaten to a pulp. Or something. His lips were raw and bloody from the gravel that was embedded into them. He groaned, but it sounded more like a whimper from a frightened dog. and something very odd happened... For the first time in years, he cried. At first it was just a few tears stinging his already burning eyes, but soon enough his body was shaking with sobs. It really is depressing to see such a site... a strong man crying. He was falling apart. Quickly.

Anthony followed after Kevin like an obedient dog, loyal to its master. He didn't look around until he made it safely to the chair. He took in his surroundings, but didn't make much of it. He tried listening to what everyone was saying, even trying to join in, but he got confused and shut his mouth. His mind wandered away and soon he wasn't even with them anymore. He had a bitter taste in his mouth, but what was it? Of course it was alcohol and the spit of many women, but he didn't remember that. He fumbled around in his pocket to find his cigarettes and a lighter. But he hesitated, was he allowed to smoke in here? He hated how cruel people could be, didn't they know it was an addiction? But of course they did, the real question is, do they care? Obvious answer: no. Why should they? No on cared about anyone anymore. Everyone sucked and they knew it. But they didn't care. So, his reasoning was, why should he care that the people he doesn't care for get their feelings hurt because they didn't care about his addiction? when it all came down to it, it was their own damn fault. So he lit his cigarette and continued this confusing train of thought.

[Waddle]

Ryan's train of thought was disrupted when Scar spoke. He only registered the last half of what the boy said, but that was enough. "No," he said curtly. He still had doubts that he was not going to voice. For all he knew, the Talismans may have been a figment of his own imagination, coming from his lack of sleep, and yet never being awake. He pushed them aside. It was all he had left. Why not believe in them? He had nothing to lose. Sure, he had his guitars, but it wouldn't bother him at all if he lost them. That was the way he liked it. When Scar stumbled, Ryan stopped and only watched as the boy face-planted into the street. It took a second for him to realize that Scar was crying. That struck a chord in Ryan's heart that he had thought had been broken long ago. He crouched down beside Scar and patted the boy on the back uncertainly. "Uh... I- I have a- a place not too far from here. C'mon, let's go there and get you cleaned up." If it were anybody else, Ryan would have walked on. He didn't know why he was letting himself get attached to Scar again. He had thought he would stay away from Scar, to keep either of them from getting hurt. And here he was, offering to take Scar to his place.

Evan looked up when he heard the snap of the lighter, but quickly looked away again, grinning. Same old Anthony. Gotta love that man. He continued to scan the tattoo book as Mo did whatever he did when dying someone's hair. Picturing what was soon to be Anty's new look, Evan put a hand over his mouth to stifle a chuckle, and continued scanning the book, still not sure what would be good.

[Anty]

Scar's face was nothing compared to the migraine. In fact, he could hardly feel it next to the feeling that his head would cave in, which was arguably a good thing. He didn't want to move, afraid that his head would crack open and his brains would fall out. But he knew he couldn't stay here like this forever, the street traffic would pick back up and he would be buried into the ground. He rose his upper body shakily onto his arms experimentally. Tears and blood stained the sidewalk. He opened his mouth to gag up blood, a few teeth and the tip of his tongue. He looked up at Ryan and attempted to speak, blood running down his chin, but instead he just ended up coughing up more blood. He nodded shakily, instead. A sob shook his body and his arms collapsed underneath him. He was back to the way he was before, but he didn't care. He didn't want Ryan to see him like this and he didn't want any help, but it was inevitable. Maybe not caring wasn't so hard after all.

Mo took a step backwards to examine Anthony's hair and nodded, pleased with his job well done. You've done it again, old man, he thought. You say you wanted a dye and a tat, if my memory serves me right?" he asked Anthony.

Anthony stared at Mo, his eyes glazed over. A what? "Oh, uh, yeah... ?" he said, shrugging helplessly. He looked over to Evan for help, We did?" his eyes asked.

[Waddle]

Ryan watched Scar uncertainly. He had no idea what he should do. He would only make things worse if he tried to comfort Scar. Maybe, hopefully, Scar didn't need words. Ryan wasn't good with words. Instead, he pulled Scar to his feet, none-too-gently. Words did come to his lips, though, some from his past, but mostly him just rambling. "On your feet, soldier. Stop that, crying won't help a thing." He brushed the gravel from Scar's face with the back of his fingers as he spoke. He wanted to say something close to 'It'll be alright', but he knew it would we worthless. He stepped away from Scar. I won't drag him anywhere. He'll have to walk on his own.

Evan turned to see Anthony's now blond hair and also saw the questioning look. He gave a nod. "Good work, Mo, very good work, as usual." He grinned and pulled the book off the counter it was on and set it in Anthony's lap. "Look through here, find one you like," he told his friend.

[Anty]

Scar numbly felt himself being pulled to his feet. He felt weak, his legs seemed to be on the verge of collapsing underneath his weight and the blood was draining from his face. And that was the truth. Though Ryan would never admit it, he was scar's hero. Just his touch made Scar feel safer. Maybe he was going to be alright. He unzipped his hoodie and ripped off the bottom of his shirt. It was made of a thin material and came easily off. He balled it up and stuffed it into his mouth, trying to staunch the heavy blood flow. Scar was good for now, but he could hardly see... how was he going to get anywhere like that?

Anthony stared dully at the book on his lap. It wasn't hard for him to choose, he just flipped to a page, closed his eyes and pointed to a picture. In the end, he got love across one fist, and hate across the other.