Kevin Sydney (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
xp_changeling) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
xp_logs2018-11-18 07:51 pm
xp_changeling) wrote in xp_logs2018-11-18 07:51 pm
Entry tags:
Morningstar - The Underground
Kevin catches up with Warren, and proves to be a poor babysitter.
"Alright, alright, enough." Kevin slapped away the crystal that the woman was holding in front of Warren's eyes. When she hissed at him, he hit her hard, right in the right kidney, and the billionaire suddenly noticed that she blinked sideways. "Get the fuck out of here or I will make six generations of you pricks regret that decision."
The woman scuttled away (Warren wasn't aware that's how she moved before now) and Kevin waved for a couple of fresh drinks.
"You stupid entitled motherfucker." He said without heat, draining the first drink in one moment and waving for another.
"Who the fuck asked you?," Warren protested indignantly. A pain flashed in his head and he dug his palm into his eye until it abated. "It was working, and you had to come and ruin it. Fuck, did you see where that crab bitch went?" He looked around the bar but no luck.
He also just realized that this was not where he normally went. The floor was sticky, his glass was dirty and he was pretty sure he was high off fumes.
"Stop. You are in the wrong place at the wrong time with too much goddamn money, Worthington. Finish your drink and we'll get out of here." Most people hadn't seen Kevin in months and yet, he was here. "I'm not kidding."
There was so much swirling in his head, it was hard for Warren to concentrate. There was that voice, that ever present voice ordering him around. Telling him to leave, to go find another person, someone could fix, someone could make this all better. In all those voices, that someone was absolutely not Kevin Sydney. "Why should I listen to you? You hate me." He finished his drink, refusing to look at Kevin. "And I hate you. So how about you fuck off, and I go on my merry way, and everyone is happy."
Kevin sighed. The things he did for friends. "If you don't, I will hurt you. I mean, not in the ways you think you've been hurt before. I will make it so your leg fucks up in cold weather or you aren't able to fuck without pills." He noticed the wince and dialed it back. "Also, some people who actually care about you asked me to keep an eye on you and while if you want to flush your life down the drain, I don't give a fuck. But I vaguely care about them enough to try and help. So, let's maybe put our dicks away and talk. Or, let's not and I hit you with a glass and cost you an eye or something. Your call, champ."
Warren looked at him warily. There was no doubt in his mind that Kevin would actually do something permanent to hurt him.
Ignore him , he heard. He's lying, no one cares about you. You don't have any friends .
But Kevin really did hate him ...and there's no way this guy was altruistic enough to come after Warren ...
"What do we have to talk about," Warren finally asked. "You can't help me. No one can."
"Oh, but the crystal crab bitch that you gave, what, at least a grand to can?" Kevin shook his head. "Come back. Sleep it off. This isn't your world, Warren. You're not ready for it and nothing good is going to come out of here."
"So I just accept this?" He stood up suddenly, knocking his stool to the floor. The room was spinning now, and he had to reach out to hold onto the counter. There was noise everywhere, and it was getting hard to filter things out. So he did what he always did: ordered another drink. At least then, the noises stopped. "No. Warren Worthington the Third has never given up on anything worthwhile, and my sanity is pretty up there."
"You stupid motherfucker. Every goddamn advantage and you just-" Kevin cut himself off. He hated Worthington. He'd grown up white trash on the wrong side of the tracks in Chicago, and at the end of his career, almost forty years in service to his country, people like Warren liked to remind him that they'd never see him as anything but. "You are a stupid young man, but here's the deal. You try and ditch me, I'll put you in the hospital. But... you keep me along tonight, I'll back you up. That's fair, right?" He knew that even if he spiked tonight, Warren would go back out when he wasn't around.
Warren gave the world's biggest sigh followed by the world's biggest eye roll. "Fine, whatever. If it makes you feel better to have me follow you around like a little lapdog..." Warren trailed off, his attention distracted by some of the faces in the bar. God, there were some ugly people in there. "Lead the way, asshole."
"Sure. Back to the Peninsula. I know the bartender. We can split a good bottle of champagne and a steak tartar. Good way to end the night in my mind."
The blonde snorted. "I could do that without you and enjoy it a million times more. Hard pass."
"David will be hurt when he hears that. So, where do you want to go?"
"I don't know," he cried out, throwing his hands in the air. "I don't even know what is going on right now! I was doing a crystal seance, then you showed up, yelled at me and now you want to go and have fucking dinner like we're buddies? We're not buddies! You say you're keeping an eye on me, but I never asked for it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few other people to talk to about cleansing my fucking aura."
"Oh please. Let me take you to Madam Zoila. She's the top person in the magical underground." Madam Zoila was a gin drinking fraud that would easily send him to safe and shyster options.
Warren gave a laugh. "Please! I gave that sorry excuse for a witch a fucking car, and she did nothing. I wanted that Jop guy but she wouldn't deliver." Was it Jop? He snapped his fingers. "Jip. That guy. Old as fuck, you probably know him. That's the only one that's going to help me."
"You don't want to fuck with that guy. Seriously. You've been throwing money at grifters. He's... not. No, seriously, a couple of glasses of wine and I'll order over some escourts who will make you rethink your gender. Seriously. Leave it alone, Warren."
Being told that he couldn't do something made Warren want to do it all the more. "You do know him." Leaning towards Kevin, Warren searched the older man's face. "I can't go on like this anymore. I'm only me when I'm so fucked up, I can barely function. I'm losing my mind here, I need some help." He winced visibly, and shook his head. "It's getting harder to drown him out. If you know where that guy is, then tell me. Please."
"Dammit, no!" Kevin said. "Go home, Warren! You've got so many people there to help you. Go home!" He was angry. The man just refused to take help. Even as big a scumbag he'd been, even as awful a person he'd been. They'd help him. And now it came down to him.
"I'll find him with or without you." Warren's eyes narrowed. "But you're the only one that seems to know what the fuck I'm talking about. I'm not going to get anyone else wrapped into this shit. So I guess it's the other way: you help me or you get the fuck out. I have more money than sense, and I can keep going for a long fucking time."
"I hate you. I wish I could sell you down the river. And now you're forcing me." Kevin said, angry, but boxed in. "Ypu don't agree to anything without talking to me. Deal?"
Warren grinned widely. He'd won. "Sure, whatever." He turned to the bartender and threw out a few $50s before pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the shelf. "We're taking this too. Lead the way, jackass."
"Alright, alright, enough." Kevin slapped away the crystal that the woman was holding in front of Warren's eyes. When she hissed at him, he hit her hard, right in the right kidney, and the billionaire suddenly noticed that she blinked sideways. "Get the fuck out of here or I will make six generations of you pricks regret that decision."
The woman scuttled away (Warren wasn't aware that's how she moved before now) and Kevin waved for a couple of fresh drinks.
"You stupid entitled motherfucker." He said without heat, draining the first drink in one moment and waving for another.
"Who the fuck asked you?," Warren protested indignantly. A pain flashed in his head and he dug his palm into his eye until it abated. "It was working, and you had to come and ruin it. Fuck, did you see where that crab bitch went?" He looked around the bar but no luck.
He also just realized that this was not where he normally went. The floor was sticky, his glass was dirty and he was pretty sure he was high off fumes.
"Stop. You are in the wrong place at the wrong time with too much goddamn money, Worthington. Finish your drink and we'll get out of here." Most people hadn't seen Kevin in months and yet, he was here. "I'm not kidding."
There was so much swirling in his head, it was hard for Warren to concentrate. There was that voice, that ever present voice ordering him around. Telling him to leave, to go find another person, someone could fix, someone could make this all better. In all those voices, that someone was absolutely not Kevin Sydney. "Why should I listen to you? You hate me." He finished his drink, refusing to look at Kevin. "And I hate you. So how about you fuck off, and I go on my merry way, and everyone is happy."
Kevin sighed. The things he did for friends. "If you don't, I will hurt you. I mean, not in the ways you think you've been hurt before. I will make it so your leg fucks up in cold weather or you aren't able to fuck without pills." He noticed the wince and dialed it back. "Also, some people who actually care about you asked me to keep an eye on you and while if you want to flush your life down the drain, I don't give a fuck. But I vaguely care about them enough to try and help. So, let's maybe put our dicks away and talk. Or, let's not and I hit you with a glass and cost you an eye or something. Your call, champ."
Warren looked at him warily. There was no doubt in his mind that Kevin would actually do something permanent to hurt him.
Ignore him , he heard. He's lying, no one cares about you. You don't have any friends .
But Kevin really did hate him ...and there's no way this guy was altruistic enough to come after Warren ...
"What do we have to talk about," Warren finally asked. "You can't help me. No one can."
"Oh, but the crystal crab bitch that you gave, what, at least a grand to can?" Kevin shook his head. "Come back. Sleep it off. This isn't your world, Warren. You're not ready for it and nothing good is going to come out of here."
"So I just accept this?" He stood up suddenly, knocking his stool to the floor. The room was spinning now, and he had to reach out to hold onto the counter. There was noise everywhere, and it was getting hard to filter things out. So he did what he always did: ordered another drink. At least then, the noises stopped. "No. Warren Worthington the Third has never given up on anything worthwhile, and my sanity is pretty up there."
"You stupid motherfucker. Every goddamn advantage and you just-" Kevin cut himself off. He hated Worthington. He'd grown up white trash on the wrong side of the tracks in Chicago, and at the end of his career, almost forty years in service to his country, people like Warren liked to remind him that they'd never see him as anything but. "You are a stupid young man, but here's the deal. You try and ditch me, I'll put you in the hospital. But... you keep me along tonight, I'll back you up. That's fair, right?" He knew that even if he spiked tonight, Warren would go back out when he wasn't around.
Warren gave the world's biggest sigh followed by the world's biggest eye roll. "Fine, whatever. If it makes you feel better to have me follow you around like a little lapdog..." Warren trailed off, his attention distracted by some of the faces in the bar. God, there were some ugly people in there. "Lead the way, asshole."
"Sure. Back to the Peninsula. I know the bartender. We can split a good bottle of champagne and a steak tartar. Good way to end the night in my mind."
The blonde snorted. "I could do that without you and enjoy it a million times more. Hard pass."
"David will be hurt when he hears that. So, where do you want to go?"
"I don't know," he cried out, throwing his hands in the air. "I don't even know what is going on right now! I was doing a crystal seance, then you showed up, yelled at me and now you want to go and have fucking dinner like we're buddies? We're not buddies! You say you're keeping an eye on me, but I never asked for it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few other people to talk to about cleansing my fucking aura."
"Oh please. Let me take you to Madam Zoila. She's the top person in the magical underground." Madam Zoila was a gin drinking fraud that would easily send him to safe and shyster options.
Warren gave a laugh. "Please! I gave that sorry excuse for a witch a fucking car, and she did nothing. I wanted that Jop guy but she wouldn't deliver." Was it Jop? He snapped his fingers. "Jip. That guy. Old as fuck, you probably know him. That's the only one that's going to help me."
"You don't want to fuck with that guy. Seriously. You've been throwing money at grifters. He's... not. No, seriously, a couple of glasses of wine and I'll order over some escourts who will make you rethink your gender. Seriously. Leave it alone, Warren."
Being told that he couldn't do something made Warren want to do it all the more. "You do know him." Leaning towards Kevin, Warren searched the older man's face. "I can't go on like this anymore. I'm only me when I'm so fucked up, I can barely function. I'm losing my mind here, I need some help." He winced visibly, and shook his head. "It's getting harder to drown him out. If you know where that guy is, then tell me. Please."
"Dammit, no!" Kevin said. "Go home, Warren! You've got so many people there to help you. Go home!" He was angry. The man just refused to take help. Even as big a scumbag he'd been, even as awful a person he'd been. They'd help him. And now it came down to him.
"I'll find him with or without you." Warren's eyes narrowed. "But you're the only one that seems to know what the fuck I'm talking about. I'm not going to get anyone else wrapped into this shit. So I guess it's the other way: you help me or you get the fuck out. I have more money than sense, and I can keep going for a long fucking time."
"I hate you. I wish I could sell you down the river. And now you're forcing me." Kevin said, angry, but boxed in. "Ypu don't agree to anything without talking to me. Deal?"
Warren grinned widely. He'd won. "Sure, whatever." He turned to the bartender and threw out a few $50s before pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the shelf. "We're taking this too. Lead the way, jackass."