Hobb breathed his exhilaration out into his drink, a giddy bubble cut down into a hastily-swallowed double, a celebration. There would be other celebrations later, but Hobb breathed out into this one, barely affected by the harsh burn of the rail liquor taken all at once.
Incredible what Halloween could do.
The family could live off this for near-to a month; heâd be soothed for about that long.
Best time of the year.
Feeling magnanimous, Hobb turned to the only other figure present, offering up a toast.
âBuy you one; best time of the year, my friend.â
@radiatorchains
His head still swam through the thick muck of instinctual panic, watching Hobb stand up and move closer to the bars. Jain wasnât so stupid to not pick up the manâs insinuations. The thought repulsed him, it was bad enough he was cowering from the man in a cage like a kicked dog now this was being asked of him. Rather ordered of him. He gun was still a threat- although not a lethal one it would still cause a great deal of damage and pain he didnât have the reserves to easily recover from.
Jain clenched his teeth, square jaw set firmly as he glared to the older man before, reluctantly, getting back to his feet to stand. He looked to Hobb directly into his eyes in a last ditch display of dominance, grasping for anything at this point. He stood tall for a moment, a few seconds longer to see if he could pull some manner of intimidation on the other.
            âYouâre nothing but walking meat to me,â he growled from deep in his chest.
The reply to that was simple enough.
âSameâ he agreed cheerily, letting the rest of the environmentâthe cage, the gun between them, the fact that the other man had asked for his name and he didnât give a shitâdo the rest of the work for him. Â
He didnât do anything else, waiting expectantly. He probably wouldnât have done it exactly this way if heâd been totally sober, but. Again, no one was stopping him.
Just play along for now. Get him to leave. Break this shit apart and burn this fucker and the rest of his shitstain family to the ground. Jain comforted himself silently in his mind as he moved to kneel down on his knees, eyes glared up to Hobb expectantly. The man wanted to shame him, but Jain wouldnât let this hit to his ego knock him down. He figured the man that stood before him knew he could heal from lead bullets, partially expecting a pointblank shot to the forehead like a beef steer, that would take a long while to recover from, reserves he would exhaust to starvation to heal from, but it offered more dignity than the other option.
âThere we goâ Hobb murmured in a soothing voice, smile leaking from his face into something more serious as the man complied, kneeling down in front of him. There was a part of him that wanted to take advantage of the position, had very specific ideas culminating in shooting into the middle of that pretty forehead. Net zero knowledge, just meat.
He didnât do anything unfortunate. He was with family, there were possibilities here. Â
âThis is good; we can work with this.â The praise was genuine, as far as it went. He let himself luxuriate in the moment, considered asking the stranger to open his mouth to really lean into it, microdose where he wasnât willing to actually do anything final.
Hm. This wasnât great, he was significantly less in control than heâd thought he would be at this point. He was enjoying himself too much.
He needed to go somewhere else for a while to breathe, to not be around other people for awhile; come back safe.
But he couldnât just walk away; this was a volatile introduction, nothing would stop him at any point, but it would be a major loss to just walk away. Calm down; think.
âIâm offering you a deal. One time only. If you fuck with it at any point thatâs the end.â He breathed in, using the language to remind him that he cared aboutâa lot of things. His voice sounded differentâsmooth, too casual. He should be more deliberate.
âYouâre getting moved. Comply, and itâll be a pretty unremarkable experience. Iâll bring you some food after. Donât, and youâll be tied down at the end, you wonât enjoy it.â Small smile, he pointedly doesnât mention how or whether he personally would enjoy it.
He would be lying if he said he didnât feel relief at seeing Hobb kneel before him as well. The lack of the press of cold steel to his head or other less appetizing things being asked of him. He felt a calm take him however small it was. Perhaps it would have been easier to be shot in the head and left in the cage as a corpse. At least then Jain could recover and make a run for it. Being moved- well that could either show itself as a blessing or a hinderance depending on where he was being moved.
The promise of food managed to draw out an interested growl both from his chest and his stomach. His eyes softened for a fraction of a second, he needed to eat though.
            âYouâre fucked if you think Iâm gonna stay,â he spoke almost mechanically, no real hostility or snarl there. Did he have a real choice? Would the man just kill him if he fought back? Was Hobb even capable of doing such grave damage to him? He made a lunge for the gun still tucked into Hobbâs pants, one last act of desperation to disarm his captor and- hopefully- make his escape.
Thank God. The stranger lunged for the gun, had a hand wrapped around it, so Hobb could do anything to him. No one could say he was reacting badly.
There was so much pressure building behind his eyes, it was a relief to backhand the man across the face, know that it wouldnât do much and have to repeat the action as many times as it took to personally feel comfortable (five).
He was so much stronger than Hobb, after all. He was so dangerous. A thrill ran through him, a giddy laugh escaping his lips. The trick wasâno reason to give him that kind of space. He had those resources, of course.
It was wasteful to be aggressive with the man now, but no one would think he was doing anything wrong now that the man had reached for his gun, presumably tried to kill him.
He hit and hit and hit, and had his hand on the pistol, ready to shoot. Heâs trying to stop himself, aware that there was a way to do this badly.
He had a hand on the manâs leg, pulling him against the bars, and it would be so easy to shove the metal between the manâs lips and into his mouth, perform the rest of this from there.
His voice is breathy, trying hard not to want to hurt him more and knowing no one present would say anything if he did.
âDonât be stupidâ he murmured, and heâs really talking to himself. His voice is friendly, flirtatious. Â He really wanted the man to be stupid.











