backstory ❋ sit down, shut up

[fangool]

[ The sun is too bright, and Fun Ghoul is angry. He's angry at everything, lately, and he hasn't bothered to stop and wonder why. Stopping means thinking and thinking means feeling worse, and that's not his goal here. It's not his goal to think about how wrong it feels to drink and pill pop night after night. And it's definitely not his goal to play nice with anybody around him. He's not thinking, he's just doing.

So that's why Ghoul doesn't stop to think about why he's clattering through the makeshift kitchen in search of more pills. His headache is killing him and he knows that Party and Kobra should be awake by now. Fine with him, though, the latter bit -- fights make him feel better, and he's definitely looking for one. ]

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[kobrakid]

[ Kobra is definitely awake, and he's been trying to spend the morning relaxing. It's been hot and fucking frustrating - even more so since they picked Ghoul up, it seems - and he just wants some time to breathe and work on some art. But no, he can't even do that, because someone is up and irritable and making a fucking mess.

He doesn't know where Party is. Out, probably. Great, he gets to deal with this. ]

The fuck are you doing?

[fangool]

Nothing. [ Ghoul snaps, slamming the drawer and glaring over his shoulder. Yes, come closer, Kobra Kid, he dares you. ] Not a bit of your goddamn business.

[ He's too stretched out, worn thin, and he stomach rolls uncomfortably as the heat flashes through his bones. He grips at the ruined counter for a second, taking a deep breath. ] Don't you got a brother to annoy?

[kobrakid]

[ He doesn't come closer; he's sitting down, one knee propping up a pad of paper, leaning against the wall. He does give Ghoul a no-nonsense look, though. ]

Don't you got a stick to haul outta your ass?

[fangool]

[ Ugh. He feels like he's going to puke, and he ends up leaning over the counter for a second, shuddering visibly. He's a mess and he knows it. ] Yeah, how 'bout I get right on that? [ He gives Kobra a completely insincere, condescending grin. ]

Fuck off. Unless you got something I can take, I ain't putting up with your nagging.

[kobrakid]

[ A snort and a little laugh as he looks back down at the paper. ] Nagging.

Look, dig around for drugs that ain't there or come here and sit the fuck down, you got a choice. One of 'em ain't gonna make y'feel worse.

[ Kobra reaches over, grabs a yellow legal pad and drops it on the floor in front of him, followed by a black pen. It's an invitation. ]

[fangool]

[ It's Ghoul's turn to laugh, nasty and irritable. ] Why in the fuck would I wanna do that? [ He'd leave if he wasn't sure he'd trip over his own feet. Instead he runs his fingers through his hair, coughing a little. ] I don't want your fuckin' pity, Kid, so keep your cards to yourself.

[kobrakid]

[ Kobra shakes his head, not looking away from the paper. ]

Believe me, I don't fuckin' pity you. Sit down.

[fangool]

[ Ghoul doesn't move, stubbornly. Kobra is not indulging him in a fight and he has half a mind to go and pick one with Party, because he knows he can. His voice is less nasty, less a sneer and more tired, like this is his last try: ] What, you gonna tell me to draw my feelings?

[kobrakid]

[ Yeah, that's a piece of an eraser pinging you in the head, Ghoul. ]

Siddown.

[fangool]

[ He actually flinches at that. Not the eraser, but the tone. There's a pause, and then he slowly pushes himself away from the counter and moves to sit down next to Kobra. Ghoul watches him warily, knees pulled to his chest, circles under his eyes dark like bruises. ] M'sitting. [ He says sullenly, sniffing a little. ]

[kobrakid]

[ Kobra settles, sort of stealthily shifting so that his shoulder touches Ghoul's, then reaches over to pick that yellow pad up again. ]

You draw any'a those tattoos of yours?

[fangool]

[ He tenses up, but the touch isn't entirely unwanted, and he relaxes after a moment, sniffing again. Ghoul looks down at his arms, disliking the look of the bare skin between tattoos. One day he'll be covered in them. That'll be better. ]

One. [ He mumbles. ] The BLI one.

[kobrakid]

[ He drops the paper on Ghoul's lap. ]

You ever tag anything?

[fangool]

Do what? [ Ghoul jumps slightly at the paper, wincing at the pang in his head. He stares at his lap blankly. ] Y'mean like -- like graffiti?

[kobrakid]

Yeah. [ He uncaps a marker with his teeth. ] You ever do it?

[fangool]

No. [ Ghoul replies, watching Kobra with that same wary look. ] Didn't... think about it. Busy with other shit. [ He sniffs again, rubs at his nose. ] Why?

[kobrakid]

Found yer problem. [ He recaps the marker. ] Y'need it. Colour. A fuckin' outlet. I mean, what're we out here for?

[fangool]

I don't have a problem. [ He can't help it, he hisses it out angrily as a knee jerk response. But then he stops, and looks down at his feet. ]

... What... what do I do? [ He holds the pad of paper in his hand shifting uncomfortably. ] I ain't creative.

[kobrakid]

Whatever the fuck you want. [ He looks down at Ghoul's hands. ] ... You alright t'go outside?

[fangool]

... Mmf. [ Is his first response, because he's actually not sure. His head is pretty much ready to explode and he doubts the sun is going to make it better. But. Stubborn. ] ... Yeah. Yeah, m'alright.

[kobrakid]

Cool.

[ Kobra's gonna ask if he's sure, but fuck it. He puts the paper to the side and gets up, moving to dig through a bag in the corner. ]

[fangool]

[ Ghoul pulls himself up slowly, expression pained. ] Why? What're you doing?