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The Pond in the Park, Friday Evening

Yup. Today was not going Fjord's way at all.

... As could be evidenced by how one minute he'd been standing behind the bar, and the next minute, he was splashing into the duck pond and sinking.

And then panicking. Drowning was a shitty way to bookend a day, and it was dark out and kicking was getting him... somewhere, but hell if he knew where, and it wasn't until his fingers touched the muck at the bottom that he managed to get enough purchase to push himself up again.

By the time he'd made it to the shore, soaked and coughing and just kind of resigning himself to sitting here by the water for the rest of the night, let Tino take care of the patrons, at the very least, the immediate overwhelming rage he'd been feeling had worn off.

... Slightly.

[OOC: Open pond, soggy half-orc!]

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Fenris followed very shortly after. He hit the water with a splash and almost immediately popped to his feet and looked around for Fjord. Stomping through the muck, splashing as he went, he scowled and aimed himself at his roommate. "You," he said when he neared, hauling the bottle of whiskey from under his belt and shoving it at Fjord, "Drink something that's not goddamn lake or sea water."

Fjord... actually recoiled at that. Leaned backwards as though that bottle of whiskey was a sword being waved in his face and hissed between his teeth, which just set up another messy round of coughing and retching and trying to get up more of that damn pond water.

"M'fine."

Spoiler: He was not fine, folks.

"The hell you are," Fenris snapped at him, "You keep missing your stomach by way of your lungs! You'll have pneumonia by Monday at this rate."

"Fuck yeah," Fjord muttered, and then coughed again. "Maybe I'll get a week off."

This was not actually the goal, no.

"You should have taken this week off," Fenris stated sharply, "Drink the whiskey. It'll help."

Fjord sighed, and then opened the bottle, and took a long pull right from it.

Didn't care overmuch what the end result was, at this point.

"Stay back in the hotel? Let the aggression build without an outlet? That would've ended badly."

"Go for a walk, grab me to go spar, do anything but be behind a bar when you know that trumped-up bitch is on the loose and spoiling to pick a fight with you?" Fenris growled.

"And how was I supposed to know she was going to pick a fight?" Fjord spat. It... was kind of muddy.

Mmmm.

"I figure the worst she's going to do any given day is stare at me like I'm a piece of meat, and I don't enjoy that but at least I can handle it."

"How were you supposed to.." Fenris spluttered, staring at Fjord. "Fjord! She's been a bitchy fucking snipe since movie night! Why else, with her racist garbage? And you've been in no mood to handle it this week." Yup, sarcasm quotes in action with that.

He watched the muddy spit. "Keep drinking. The whiskey will kill whatever germs you swallowed."

Look, Fjord had a really, really bad wisdom stat, here.

"... Keep drinking," he echoed, and took another swig. "I fuckin' hate this. She ain't no worse than some of the kids I grew up with. I shouldn't let her shit get to me."

"And you usually don't but you've been completely off all week and you know that so why the hell did you go to the bar?!" Fenris flailed, "You shouldn't have to put up with her shit! She should know when to back the hell off!"

"But she fucking doesn't," Fjord snarled, "because nothing fucking matters."

Gods, he was tired. He regretted this entire damn week.

He took another long pull from the bottle.

Seivarden didn't want Fjord to drown. Or Fenris. She did want to punch both of them in the face, but drowning in the pond, no. Granted, they had each other, but if they were fine she could at least gloat a bit. She felt she was entitled to that.

"Feeling better?" She asked, approaching the pond.

"Fuck off," Fjord muttered, and then coughed again, some stubborn water still lingering in his lungs.

Gloating was going to end badly for her. Fjord was, unsurprisingly, still not in the mood.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" Seivarden said, for some reason actually feeling a bit sorry for Fjord. "If you want to hit me, fine, but inside the bar?"

"I told you it was a bad day for this, Seivarden," Fjord growled, shoulders bunching up, attempting, with little luck, to get some excess water out from under his armor. "Whole fuckin' week's got me keyed up to fifteen, you're lucky I didn't try to put a falchion trough your face for pushin' after I told you," twice, "not to."

Stupid, selfish, self-absorbed piece of...

"Are you saying there's ever a good day for this, whatever this is, or is that just an excuse?"

Seivarden looked doubtful.

"Have you been here all week? What the hell is wrong with you?!" Another cough. Gods damn everything. "Maybe if you'd waited a fuckin' week instead of ignorin' me when I said flat-out it was a bad fuckin' day, we could've had a goddamn conversation! But you don't want a conversation, do you?" His voice picked up volume, and his accent began to slip, slightly. "You don't care what shit comes out of my mouth unless it's workin' in your favor. I talk about shit I know, you change the topic. I say my day is going poorly, and you stand there and question whether it really is or not?"

The large, green, occasionally coughing soggy man was yelling in a decidedly more British accent, now.

"What does it take to get you to listen, Seivarden? You tell me you wanted pleasant conversation, you wanted a friend, but you never once did anything to show it! Ogling me isn't a compliment! That is not how compliments fucking work!"

"All I wanted to talk about is why you sent me a fucking sword and didn't own up to it," Seivarden yelled back. "Because so far I don't buy your explanation, and if I was so horrible to you, why didn't you just tell me to fuck off, instead of, what, suffering in silence? And do you think everyone who gives you appreciative looks are ogling you, or is that just me?"

Fenris stood up and began walking toward her. His voice was low and cold, "He told you to leave him alone this week. He didn't tell you to fuck off because he's a professional and he was at work where it's his job to serve you drinks. He told you that you were making him uncomfortable. I told you that you were making him uncomfortable. I told you to stop and I warned both of you what would happen if you didn't. He doesn't owe you an answer, you bitch. He doesn't owe you a goddamn thing. I told you just a few minutes ago to stay the hell away from him and Seivarden? We're not in the fucking safety zone of the bar right now."

He locked his eyes on her, green eyes gone feral in their anger. He said, smiling a sharp and cold smile, "I'd run, if I were you."

"Yeah, and I left you alone," Seivarden snapped to Fjord. "Unless you noticed, I don't show up on Fridays anymore, and the only reason I stopped by now was to ask about that fucking sword."

She was aware it hadn't been a good choice of day, but no need to get into that now.

Turning her head, she met Fenris' gaze. "Oh? And what do you plan to do? Kill me and throw me in the pond? At least that will give Rosa a fucking murder case to solve. Use a sword and there will be a lot of suspects, unless you fail to bribe the squirrels."

She laughed, because this was just what her life was like now.

"I hate this place. I fucking hate it."

Fjord just... shook his head, barking a small sound of disbelief.

"She's not hearing a fucking word we're saying to her," he said. "She's not even fucking listening. She did me some great favor not... not showing up at work until today, so it's okay that she's ignored every request to back off, every word out of my mouth..."

Just like every one of them, wasn't she?

Didn't matter. She was the civilized one, and he was just convenient. Easy prey.

Driftwood all over again.

"Can't ignore what people are saying and then demand they talk more, that's not how it works..."

"He told you," Fenris repeated coldly, still walking toward her, "to leave him alone today. You never fucking listen, do you? You can't hear anyone over the sound of your own bullshit."

His smile grew sharp around the edges, "I don't need a sword to kill you." Holding his arms out to his sides, he harnessed the Lyrium. All the metal in his skin, all the lines carved and burned into his body began to glow with the white vapor pulled through the Fade. Coalescing around his hands. "Did you see what I did in the bar, Seivarden? Were you paying attention? I can stick my hand right into your chest without leaving so much as a bruise. Right around your heart. Squeeze it until it stops beating. It won't look like a murder. It will look like you had a heart attack. Bribing the squirrels will be easy. After all, I remembered to bring the whiskey with me."

All his teeth were showing now in a manic, predatory smile, "You picked the wrong week for this, you bitch. Any other week, he'd ask me to stop. He'd tell me you weren't worth it - and you're not, but I'm so very bored. Fjord normally wouldn't want me to kill you but right now? He's having a really bad week and right now you've made it so he doesn't care. You aren't listening to him. You aren't listening to me. You really should learn to fucking listen. He told you to leave him alone."

"I told you to run."

Seivarden snorted. "I don't take orders from you. If you want to kill me with your fucking magic powers, then do it. I'm fed up with your threats."

She turned her head to look at Fjord. "I'm fed up with you. Both of you. I returned that sword to Amaya, I hope she finds someone who appreciates it."

She took a step back and turned to leave.

"Breakin' my heart," Fjord muttered, taking a breath and schooling his accent back into his drawl. "Sword like that deserved better anyway."

He took another very, very long pull of whiskey from the bottle. A tusk clinked against the glass, and it very nearly killed him, not letting himself flinch.

"I'm goin' back to work, Fenris."

Nobody else there seemed to be a problem. Funny, that.

Fenris laughed a high, mocking laugh as Seivarden retreated. "Oh, Fjord, did you hear? She's fed up with us. Oh go fuck yourself entirely, Seivarden. Get the hell out of here before I do kill you. Nobody wants you around, get that through your head you insufferable piece of shit."

He turned back toward Fjord. "Yeah, come on. The sword deserved better and so do you. She's a worthless piece of human trash."

Seivarden pretended not to listen. That was what she would do in the future, she told herself, when it came to Fjord and Fenris, just ignore them. Heading home, she'd try and get some sleep before the squirrels would wake her up tomorrow morning.

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The Pond in the Park, Friday Evening

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