Hey, Robert, bro! You still out and about? I know it’s probably early for you in the bar crawls, but if you have some time, want a drinking buddy? And by drinking buddies, I mean you do the drinking and I keep the water coming!
hell yeah, im still out don’t see the point if you’re not drinking though are you just gonna watch me drink as you sip on some water or whatever christ’s sake, at least get a virgin drink or something. I can pick one out for you unless you’re picky then you’re outta luck.
SNAKES, snakes entangle his heart, crawl through the scant, tight, spaces in his blasphemous soul. The stained glass windows arch over their crouching forms forbiddingly; he feels so SMALL against the LORD’S holy light, it’s difficult to breathe with all the dust in the air, mingling like love starved bodies against the dark backdrop of the chapel. Robert Small enters this divine forest with purpose && a knife in hand: he’s ready to hack away at the overgrown ferns && chaparral riding up the side of the Church from years of DECAY, MISUSE, && NEGLIGENCE.
He’s prepared, to put that GOD-SERVING BLADE to use, && tear through the very gullet of the diabolical vessel that makes homage in the Minister’s honeyed, meridional, vocals. ‘ Please…’ He says, retreating backwards in his finally spit-shined church shoes. ‘ You’d be an idiot to pull through with this…’
IT WAS IMMEDIATELY OBVIOUS TO ROBERT THAT JOSEPH KNEW WHY HE WAS HERE. A snarl curled across his sharp features, gritting his teeth. Not once had he broke rhythm in his step as he stormed closer, blade adhered in calloused hands. He moves at a quick pace, stopping just short of the minster’s toes as he jerks his hand upwards, blade stopping just short of the thin layers skin of Joseph’s throat threatening to slice through, prepared for what would ensue if he were to follow through, ready for the blood to be on his hands. For once, this would all be worth it. God knows Robert would follow through if enacted.
He gives a husky growl, stale cigarettes and whiskey tattooed to his breath from years of abuse, though with his stance, it couldn’t be any clearer that Robert was shockingly SOBER. ❝Good thing I’m a fuckin’ idiot, yeah?❞ he’d reply, not once breaking eye contact. ❝I should have done this a long time ago.❞
THE MAN WOULD SNORT IN AMUSEMENT as he pulled back, his own cockiness OBVIOUSLY getting to his head. ❝Shouldn’t say things you can’t own up to, Hugo,❞ Robert responds, as slight delay in his words as he found himself chuckling, analyzing the other’s bewilderment. ❝… If you don’t want me to do it again though, I won’t. I’m a man of my word.❞
“– i’m not much of a whiskey drinker, robert.” it wasn’t the taste, the taste was fine– had to be with how he couldn’t handle a drink. “– but a few shots can’t hurt, i reckon.”
❝That’s the spirit, big guy❞ he’d respond, barely throwing a glance at this evening’s drinking companion. Sometimes, it felt interesting to take SOMEONE ELSE bar-hopping for a change. Made him wonder how the night would turn out. Robert flags down Neil, who instantly pours two shots without Robert even making a request, then slides one down to Brian. ❝Ready whenever you are.❞
❛ robert, get this—❜ this time, he daunts SOMETHING of an almost sincerely straight expression before unleashing another torturous pun.❛ what kind of street do ghosts like best ? —– a dead end.❜
❝A d–??❞
…. Wow.
The second he even begun to paraphrase Craig’s stupid joke, he GOT it, and CHRIST, was that annoying. This was another one of this dude’s stupid puns. Yup. He’d have to revoke his dad privileges now, it was all over for him.
Robert takes a sip of his whiskey, eyes rolling backwards. ❝Har har, Noah. Got any more of those left in ya?❞
periodiic-blog says: ' pull that knife on me again and you'll find yourself waking out on the curb-- '
❝Calm down, babe, I was being gentle,❞ he joked, quickly putting his knife back in its holster. ❝No, really though. Won’t do it again. Knives are out of the question now, yeah?❞
she knew this would be awkward, but somehow it’s worse than she imagined. they’re just kind of staring each other down, the room completely silent. she reached out to him, and he’d invited her to stay with him for the weekend. it was hard to get off work, but…it was her dad.
‘ hey, dad. how’ve you been, huh? ’
Fuck. FUCK. this was more uncomfortable than he ever could of expected it to be. Nonetheless, Robert had wanted this more than anything– his daughter LEAVING him when she had tore Robert apart from the inside out, ate him ALIVE for the years she had been gone. But now she was here in his living room, haphazardly tidied within the hour before she was expected to arrive.
Val was just as beautiful as he’d remembered; hosting a striking resemblance to her mother. ❝Been– been managing, kiddo,❞ this was how parents talked to their kids, right? Perhaps he should of been paying more attention at the barbecues, listen in on how the other parents talked to their OWN young. ❝Your business holding up good?❞
It is with GREAT sadness pooling in his sapphire hues, that he regards the whisky glass held betwixt sun-kissed fingers as one would an old enemy. He can sense the cracks beginning to form along his porcelain complexion–like a doll that’s been dropped on its head at the hand of those CAUSTIC words.
‘ Please, neighbour, I’m only being hospitable. There’s no need to be so aggressive…have you…have you tried the cupcakes yet? I made them myself.’
❝And if I said no?❞ by this point, Robert was just testing the minister’s patience, seeing how far he could push Joseph before his facade cracked. The cupcakes did look quite delicious, though… Perhaps he could help himself to one once Joseph had the gall to turn his back ( Not that he couldn’t just eat one right in front of the other, but that would RUIN his spiteful composition ).
❝And NEIGHBOUR–don’t call me that. Don’t call me anything. Don’t even look at me. Your politeness is tiring. So go do the world a favor and go grab the fire cracker that Ernest chucked in your recycling bin.❞
