Pre-Game Catchall | the grass grows greener on the other side

[graftage]

Who: John Steinbeck + people who are unfortunate enough to talk to him
Where: everywhere and anywhere
When: time is a construct (various)
Summary: pre-game CR catchall time
Restrictions/Warnings: steinbeck is his own warning (will update if needed)

[This log is for pre-game CR closed prompts catchall! If you're interested in getting CR with Steinbeck, just PM or hit me up in a PP over at vampirize and I'll write out a prompt for you!]

Comments

[rhygret]

How are things? How are things?? [ Rhys is a raw bundle of nerves is what he is. He's pacing, unable to stay still, and acting like everything that's gone wrong up until this point in his life is personally Steinback's fault. Like he;s the reason Rhys is in literally the worstposition of his life, and not at all due to his own (admittedly spectacularly crappy) bad luck and ambition.

He could have left that deal alone, but noooo... Rhys wanted to be the hero. And now he's stuck meeting in back alleys with Scarbacks. ]

Are you kidding me right now! This is the worst! I'm finished, done! There is literally nothing worse than this that could happen! All because of you ungrateful Westies and your stupid little resistance. [ Rhys points at the man, accusatory, eyes narrowed.

Yeah, he may be venting a little. ]

I don't deserve this! I want out.

[graftage]

Aw, is that so?

[His tone is practically a croon, like he knows he will never get anywhere sincere with what he's saying - Rhys, in his eyes, is worth as much as trash in the gutters. He's a cockroach, someone who's gotten to where he is through idiotic means, and Steinbeck has no sympathy whatsoever for him.]

By all means, if you're so done, just leave. It's your life. Nobody makes that decision for you.

[There's a pause - perhaps, he means what he says? - except there's suddenly the sound of a snkt, and the gleam of a knife appears in Steinbeck's hand. He steps forward, eyes a little too wide and bright to be comfortable.]

But you have to know, I'm not here to just chat, Rhys. Do what you like. But if you think the Enforcers in that stupid company of yours are bad - [He edges the knife closer, pressing the tip of it against Rhys' abdomen.] - you obviously haven't met me. I'm worse.

[rhygret]

[ Ohhh shit. Holy crap, this guy has a knife on him that he sure did just pull on Rhys and gods why it's against his stomach. Rhys blanches immediately and hard, colour and righteous fury draining from him fast as he flattens back against the side of his desk.

What he's like to so he did after that was maybe shoot a laser from his cybernetic eye and explode Steinback's head or maybe he had a secret pistol lying around to pump a few rounds into the man's chest. What he does instead? ]

Okay--okay, you've made your point! [His hands go up immediately in surrender. Like the total badass he is. ] Just...just take it easy okay? H-heh...

[graftage]

Oh, you get it now? Good! Glad to see there's some brain cells up in that head of yours.

[He smiles cheerfully, then retracts the knife, pocketing it back within the confines of his robes. He'd love to just cut him open right here and now, but sadly, they need him. What a shame.]

So, you know your position, right? No trying to be courageous on us, now.

autocorrect destroyed that last tag of mine wow

[rhygret]

[ Yeah...wow. Shame, that. Not getting to murder someone sure is...tough.

Rhys practically deflates in relief as the knife goes away, exhaling and letting his shoulders sink. ]

I get it, okay? Stop...reminding me.

i literally didn't even notice it over steinbeck not being able to be chill for 2 seconds

[graftage]

You're the one who keeps trying to wriggle out of this deal. We're not the type to just take that lightly.

[Ironically the Rebellion doesn't stand for rebellion. Rhys is with them whether he likes it or not.]

You're Company scum, nothing more. How did you even get where you did? Money? Using someone to reap the profits?

[rhygret]

[ He hates all of you and hopes you turn baldness and get arthritis. ]

Excuse me?? I had to complain and beg for weeks to be allowed to work here...! Royals aren't usually the working type if you haven't noticed. It's considered beneath us. [ Which begs the question of why Rhys is doing is despite all that, but honestly he doubt Steinbeck cares. He's just here to get what he and his dumb Resistance want so they can keep causing problems for everyone. ]

[graftage]

Ah, you had to complain? You had to beg? Poor little Rhys! Had to grovel for two seconds to get where he wanted to be!

[Ugh. He feels the distaste running up in his throat, like the remnants of a bad meal. Royals aren't the working type, huh? He'd like to see them try to work a day on Westerley, see if they could survive.]

Don't make me laugh. [A pause - he then spits on Rhys' shoe, just because he can.] You haven't worked hard a day in your life. You would take one step outside the Company and you'd be eaten alive.

[rhygret]

Wh-- [ he cannot believe Steinbeck just did that. Like Rhys openly stares at him in affront for a good second or two before he blusters, so insulted holy cow. ]

Are you serious right now?! You're--ugh! I should have you throw out! Screw you and screw your resistance! [ YOU CAN'T DO THAT TO HIM HE'S RICH ] This is why no one likes you! You're disgusting! I just--uuugh, I just had these waxed.

[graftage]

You can't do anything to me, Rhys. You know that.

[He laughs, eyes narrowing in almost mischievous amusement. He'd spit on Rhys' shoes any day to get a reaction like that.]

Anyways, you're the one who made the bad decisions, Rhys. You have to live with them. [A pause as he reaches up to rub his head, irritated.] By the Mother Tree, just hearing you speak is enough to give me a headache, you know?

[rhygret]

[ What he wouldn't give to take out a level 5 warrant on Steinbeck at this moment. ]

Well good, because you deserve way worse! None of this is my fault--I'm a victim here! [ Especially his shoes, the biggest victim of them all. RIP skag leather boots. ] I should be at work right now, not...consorting with the worst monk in the Quad. You people are walking disease vectors. [ Because it was an Uncle who infected Crowley, Rhys just assumes they're all...carrying something. Some weird blood-sucking virus. ]

[graftage]

Walking disease vectors? [He scoffs.] Who told you that?

[That sounds like a load of hogwash. Steinbeck reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, already getting tired of hearing Rhys yap on and on about how much he hates him. He sighs.]

I need a drink. [He gives Rhys a pointed glance.] You're coming with me, work or no work. Besides, I bet you don't do that much work at all.

[rhygret]

A friend. [ he's not going into further detail than that, because unlike some people he can actually be a pretty decent friend when the need calls for it. He's at least good at not going around to blab secrets and the like. Crowley's mystery disease will stay safe.

The not-so-subtle "come with me" isn't lost on Rhys though, and he wrinkles his nose. ]

Excuse you but I happen to be good at my job! As...unimportant as it is. And I get paid for it which is more than you can boast I'm sure. [ he's pretty sure monks don't get salaries and pension plans ]

[graftage]

Tell your friend that they shouldn't go around spreading ridiculous rumors.

[Insult him all you want, sure, but insult the Scarbacks as a whole, and that's another thing entirely. Steinbeck's eyes narrow in an obviously peeved expression.]

I get paid for blessing rich people when they decide to do something as mundane as buying a pet. [He says, with a snort, as he turns to the exit - he hesitates, turning his head over his shoulder.]

Come on. [A pause.] Look, I'm willing to buy you a drink if it means it'll shut your stupid mouth. I'll kill two birds with one stone, here.

[rhygret]

It's true. [ Rhys insists on that grumpily, but that's about it. He knows far too well that Crowley's change for the...worse, he supposes? He was never fantastic company but now he's got the added bonus of being a huge pain in his ass whenever he asks for blood.

But then Steinbeck offers to buy him a drink and Rhys winds up giving him this incredulous look, unable to decide if he should feel insulted or what. Because a stiff drink actually is...exactly what he wants, after something like this. ]

Is that supposed to convince me? Really??

[graftage]

Sure it is. [He says, with the air of someone who doesn't believe him whatsoever.]

[He lets out a laugh, shrugging casually. He needs that drink, and he needs it now, and he has to keep an eye on this too. This is the best scenario, really.]

Hey, it's either you come and watch me drink, or you drink with me. No other options here. If I were you, I'd choose the latter.

[rhygret]

Is there an option that involves you leaving me alone for the rest of forever? [ That's Rhys's way of begrudgingly acquiescing, in case Steinbeck wondered. He really doesn't see a way out of this, but maybe watching the guy ruin his liver will make his evening a little less awful. Rhys could enjoy watching that. ]

Is wherever you want to go to at least close by?

[graftage]

Sadly for the both of us, no.

[He gestures for Rhys to follow him, barking out a laugh.]

Do you really think I could walk half the city for a drink? Hell no. Of course it's nearby. Probably not up to your rich standards, but it'll do the job.

[rhygret]

If there's puke on the floor, I'm leaving. [ Rhys is setting that hard rule right now because he's seen the "charm" of Westerlyn bars and he's found it to be lacking in so many hygienic ways it's disturbing. There's no way he'd be able to stomach something from anywhere that isn't at least trying to be clean. ]

[graftage]

Whatever floats your boat, Company Man. [Another laugh - Rhys is amusing, really, with just how ignorant he is about everything. He's too picky to be taken seriously.]

[He makes his way through the streets, finally coming to one of the bars - it's more on the quiet side, which is what Steinbeck likes. There's less of a chance for a bar fight or chaos to break out, and he enters with Rhys in tow. It's fairly clean, for Westerly bar standards.]

[Steinbeck makes a bee line to the bar counter, looking over at Rhys with a smirk.]

What's your poison?

[rhygret]

Because you have to ask you probably can't afford it. [ Rhys is going to be smug about that whether it's actually convincing or not (he sure believes it so that counts for something right?), choosing the least offensive-looking stool to seat himself upon as he lifts a brow.

The perfect Rich Asshole^TM look. ]

[graftage]

[Steinbeck stares at Rhys for a moment, before turning to the bartender, gesturing over to Rhys with a wide smile.]

Give him the cheapest beer you have.

[Serves you right, Rhys!!!]

[rhygret]

...........

I hate you. [ STEINBECK. Oh my god Rhys can't wait for him to get arrested or die of infectious disease or something, that would be great. Like super-swell, because right now Rhys is just leering at him in irritation. ]

Haha! Actually-- [ Rhys stresses this word with a pointed look at Steinbeck ] I'll take your finest Hokk. He's paying.

[graftage]

I'll cut your pinky finger off if I do.

[Says Steinbeck through gritted teeth, smiling so wide it's practically reaching his ears.]

Do rethink that, would you?

[rhygret]

What, you're going to assault a Kendry--in the middle of a public space, over a bar tab? Ohhhoho my god, please do, I'd love to have a reason to toss your butt in the mines forever.

[ No seriously he would love to do this. He also did just say "butt" instead of "ass." ]