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Post by Conan Breandan on Sept 13, 2011 22:04:02 GMT -5
Conan Breandan didn’t like it. And not only the relationship Reckony Pike was courting with his sister. No, it extended far beyond that. He had set out to separate himself from his family at age 16, and for the better part of nearly nine years had succeeded in drinking himself into ditches, talking himself into queer situations, and barely escaping that part of his life with body and soul intact. He’d spent the next eight years fighting to get sober-- or at least sober enough to gain a good reputation.
He’d fought hard to get where he was, and if it had been a long hard road, still he had managed to obtain his goal. He had minimal contact with his family, the occasional accidental slip and perhaps the odd double booking. But not until the night Reckony Pike had nearly bashed his brains in for trying to help his sister (right after ignoring the rare helpfulness he had been feeling that evening) had he spent any real time in their company.
Since then he had curtailed his travels, staying mostly in Hogsmeade, not taking jobs as often. He was unusually occupied with watching over his younger sister, a task he had not undertaken since they were teenagers. She was a competent woman, but when he looked at Pike he saw an anomaly, an untrustworthy man who moved with the winds, and not in the way the gypsies did. He was unpredictable, his moods fickle, he supported his friends one minute and left them to hang the next.
Conan did not trust him, and he found himself pulled as if by gravity to circle the bigger man and observe him. Waiting for the moment that he would slip, and turn.
It was in this frame of mind that he slipped into the empty pub, where Reckony was polishing glasses behind the bar.
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Post by Reckony Pike on Sept 13, 2011 22:32:50 GMT -5
Reckony spent an unusual amount of time polishing the goblet glass; he was preoccupied by thought, considering a million things that outweighed the value of the cheap, London-bought wine service. Somewhere between his laments on love and his furrows on friendship, he lost track of the body that entered through the front door, and while the oak entrance managed to slam shut with some volume, Pike only had enough in him to offer the guest the same half-ass greeting he'd given every other patron since a quarter past six.
"Good evening. Help yourself to a seat."
It wasn't that he didn't care, but certainly he cared less. It was just like every other night at the Three Broomsticks. Drunkards in. Drunkards out. Paycheque.
Pike changed cloths and began rubbing away at a soap stain.
Maebh Breandan. It was funny how time changed things. Not that much was different since the barkeep first met the gypsy, but he was decidedly less certain about how much he knew about the fiery warrior than when they first started courting. Perhaps he was guilty of assumptions: Maebh was indeed a strong woman and she was in every way different than the other lasses he had been with since he found need to sow his oats. Over the past week, however, Pike had become aware of a tendency in Maebh that he had failed to recognize earlier, and it was a difference he had some trouble forgetting. Maebh had undying compassion, even for those that Pike found undeserving.
Pike knew the waters were muddied at the Wizengamot Ball but he hadn't yet found the courage to talk to her about it.
It started so well. He thought on all the effort Maebh had made that evening. How perfect their relationship seemed.
"What can I get you," Pike asked, not bothering to look up to the new patron. "Ale on tap is the special. Have a nice Bulgarian Honey Brown straight off the boat."
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Post by Conan Breandan on Sept 15, 2011 20:50:33 GMT -5
"What can I get you," Pike asked, not bothering to look up to the new patron. "Ale on tap is the special. Have a nice Bulgarian Honey Brown straight off the boat."
“Ye can take your hands off my sister, for one.” Conan said bluntly, slipping into place at the bar. He met Reckony’s gaze with a determined glare. “But she insists I not involve myself. She says she’s found “the one.” ” The short gypsy planted his palms on the bar, leaning forward. He wasn’t going to tolerate distraction.
He was watching the man, pulled to follow him as if he were a planet caught in another’s larger gravity. He didn’t trust Reckony, didn’t see him as reliable. He knew how Pike treated those friends he deemed unworthy. He knew of the man’s past, and quite possibly, more of his future than the man himself. And if he hurt Maebh, there was one thing certain.
He wouldn’t have a future.
“I tolerate you for her sake, Pike. But make no mistake, man. You may be big and a bully, but if you harm her, if you so much as hurt her feelings… I will find you, and you will regret the very moment your mother gave birth to your miserable arse, d’ye understand me?” Conan Breandan did not on the surface present a very intimidating face, being only five-three and of slight build, but he was hard from a life on the road and the unsavoury underworld he frequented. He wasn’t Joe Nice you met on the street, no matter how sweetly he talked and presented himself during performances.
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Post by Reckony Pike on Sept 23, 2011 21:23:32 GMT -5
The threats were fast and certain and were Reckony Pike otherwise unused to such slights of character, he may have had reason to reach over the countertop without warning and pummel the man he knew as Conan Breandan. Conan was a special sort in Pike's books: he was annoying as hell, completely mad and obstinate, and wherever the barkeep went, Breandan had a rather uncanny knack of being there as well. He was like a mosquito, only too large (ironic) for Pike to swat.
Then again, he was the love of his life's brother.
It was a no fly zone.
Pike puffed out his Irish feathers and took a step back from the bar, creating the distance that was necessary to keep him at bay. He referred to the space as his contingency, thereby anything causing him to cross such a line would be undoubtedly deserving of the wrathful attention. Conan was very close to getting him there. Very close.
"Well then, Breandan. Aren't we in a cupcake sort of mood. I take it, then, that you'll not be staying with Maebh and I any longer?" It was less of a question and much more of a fact. If the gypsy thought he could come in to his bar talking his little man smack, he had another thing coming. "Don't let my boot hit your ass on the way out."
Reckony wasn't about to defend his love of Maebh. He loved her, she knew he loved her, and Conan's approval of the union, while pleasant, was not a deal-breaker in his books. If the gypsy boy had nothing good to say he'd be daft to say anything at all. But the suggestion gnawed at Pike in a way he didn't expect. So the boy thought he was a brute and a bully - who didn't. Pike was guilty of that on size and stubble alone. But did Conan truly think he was capable of hurting Maebh's feelings? Was she not everything he lived for...
"But before you go, I'm just a little bit curious. Why the sudden change? I thought we started to build that bridge a bit. Was it just an act then, Irish? For Maebh's sake? Do you really think me such a monster."
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Post by Conan Breandan on Sept 23, 2011 21:46:59 GMT -5
Conan straightened, reading the man with the ease of a performer. He had not expected Reckony to restrain himself, to back away from conflict. Well, it seemed he could be wrong-- about Reckony, at any rate. The man could surprise him. Conan had come in with certain expectations of Reckony’s actions, and he didn’t let the words bother him. They were rather milder than he’d expected, any road.
"But before you go, I'm just a little bit curious. Why the sudden change? I thought we started to build that bridge a bit. Was it just an act then, Irish? For Maebh's sake? Do you really think me such a monster."
“I’ve told you many a time, Pike. I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. Not with a box of dirty laundry. Not with my sister.”
Conan took a step back as well, creating some small distance between him and the bar. He felt like he needed the breathing room. “You’re an arrogant wizard, Reckony, and worst, you believe you’re always right. Nothing can deviate from your view of the world. Disreputable looking gypsies must be drunk and raving when they warn you of danger, and the certainly don’t save women from demons.” His fists clenched and his face tightened in anger as he recalled that night again. It was a sore point.
“You’re a bigoted ignoramus, and yes, I believe you will hurt her. You better hope you prove me wrong.” He turned and started to walk away. He was done here.
But was Reckony?
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Post by Reckony Pike on Sept 28, 2011 10:47:59 GMT -5
That's right, Breandan. Step away.
Reckony stifled a smirk as Conan created his own space from the bar. He half expected the gypsy to bolt from the room and was slightly surprised when he didn't. The Irishman sized up his fellow national but remained unimpressed.
You think you're ready to play with the big boys?
“I’ve told you many a time, Pike. I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. Not with a box of dirty laundry. Not with my sister. You’re an arrogant wizard, Reckony, and worst, you believe you’re always right. Nothing can deviate from your view of the world. Disreputable looking gypsies must be drunk and raving when they warn you of danger, and the certainly don’t save women from demons. You’re a bigoted ignoramus, and yes, I believe you will hurt her. You better hope you prove me wrong.”
"Oh, I see," Pike began calmly, the condescendence not completely gone. "Now we're getting somewhere." The barkeep grabbed a goblet from the shelf behind the counter, polishing the glass without looking at it. "This isn't about me, is it Breandan? It's really not. I think someone's cloak is in a knot because he left his sister, left his family, and while he was gone she found someone else to take his place. She doesn't idolize you anymore, and that drives you mad. You're not upset that I thought you incapable of saving Maebh from the demons...you're upset because she didn't need you to. Little sister's all grown up, boy. DEAL WITH IT. I might be a bigot, but at least I stand for something. I fight for a cause I believe in and it just so happens that Maebh believes in it too! You...you run away. That's what you're going to do now, isn't it? Run? You see, you stand for nothing. You're a coward. And now you can get the hell out of my bar."
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