Hi, Hello! Just posting this little brain rot of mine. It's just an interaction with Mob Howdy and barely polished anomaly oc. I'm thinking Home is not the only anomaly that likes to mess with mortal puppets. Yeah, something like that.
And also... I'm not really a writer(so, sorry for all the wrong grammar). But writing is the only mods of manifesting those ideas. Too bad I can't draw.
Tepid city air breezed their face as another fast car zoomed past, beating the red lights. They could only huff in annoyance watching the car from a distance.
What a welcoming neighborhood...
Shaking their head they carry on with their listless walk to satisfy their never ending wanderlust in this concrete jungle.
The bar's activity slowed down for the night. Finally, Howdy could ease some tension tightly knitted on his shoulders.
Every member of the family was all in their respective quarters, his boss was still busy in his office, and most of the patrons who visited the bar already got their fill.
A rare instance of reprieve for his worn down body. A moment of solitude without hearing any orders from the others. Or to always be in high alert in case of an enemy attack. Or just be in the presence of his boss.
Howdy dimmed the bar light a bit... sometimes he wondered if he was supposed to be a moth with how lights attracts his attention.
But he couldn't remember anything.
With how his body never runs out of stuffings pouring out from every rips on his felted skin, was how much of hollowed out his mind came to be. No thoughts, nor will to fill the silence of his mind. Not even a smidge of memories to echo in the basin of his head. Nothing.
Howdy's body reverted from tensing his shoulders again, then he open his lone eye looking down.
This person was clearly not a citizen of this city or the neighborhood if they just enter this bar without any hint of fear in their lax poise. Their round black tinted spectacle big enough to cover their eyes, giving him the impression that they might be blind, but with the way their head angled to look up at him, this person was clearly not.
Then their lips stretched, too fluid, too practiced... a polite smile for casual courtesy.
"Can I have a drink or are you closing up?"
Howdy conclude this stranger was one of those ignorant fools. People who didn't know any better and the one's who perish so easily.
The rug and glass he's been polishing carefully placed under the rack counter.
"The bar will close at four in the morning. What can I get you?"
"You don't mind if I stay for a while? Give you company?"
Howdy stare at them, rare curiosity stirring to wakefulness. Their odd inquiry struck him.
"No, I don't mind." Not that it mattered.
"Still better to ask, right? Even though I barge in here." A chuckle flutter from them, light and friendly.
The stranger took off their jacket and neatly place the dark clothing on the backrest of the barstool, an obvious sign they would stay for a long duration.
"Can I have whiskey on the rocks, please." They finally ordered after getting situated on their seat.
With practiced ease Howdy moved in such precision, even in simple tasks he prefer executing in perfection, being vain through and through.
He pushed the coaster along the glass of amber liquor on top to his lone customer.
"An ashtray, please if smoking is allowed of course."
Humming, he grabbed one of the ashtray stacked under the counter. He stood back to his usual position, still like a statue reverting to his usual trance of mindlessness.
"How long have you been in this neighborhood?"
"Been here ever since I could remember." Which he only assumed when he couldn't remember anything in his past... at all.
The stranger accepted his answer.
Silence slowly build up again after his reply. The stranger must have given up engaging him to a small talk.
"Mind sharing few things I should keep tabs with. You know—things that lurks in the dark?"
The hands tucked behind him move, discreetly pulling his ice pick, while he grabbed another glass and rugs refraining to his previous task.
"The only advice I can give you is to relocate. Look for another city to settle."
"Oh, that's a bummer." The stranger winced when they pull the glass away from their lips. Either from his answer or the strong brand of whiskey he serves them, he didn't know nor care. "Uhm, can I have an ale for this?"
When Howdy bent to open one of the drawer grabbing a can of ale his lips twitch a little before straightening again to a line. Then he place the can of ale to the only customer in front of him.
He might or might not purposely grab the tampered bottle of whiskey he purely reserve for special customers.
"So—" they started while busy pouring the ale. "Base from your answer every neighborhood in this city is claimed as a territory by mobsters. Of course, of course big cities always infested by those kind of groups, organized crimes and all." After filling up their glass with ale, he watched them taking another try of the alcohol now diluted in ale.
The hold he had on the ice pick behind him tightened, realizing that the person in front of them was more than what they appear to be. Blatantly speaking of their awareness of what occurs within the shadow.
"Anyway I just got here and you're the first actual person I interacted... God I need to socialize more."
Howdy went silent again. But the silence didn't live long when the stranger threw another inquiry at him.
"You don't talk much don't you? That's unusual for a bartender."
"No, I don't. And my boss didn't include entertaining customers to be part of my job. I only serve drinks, maintain the bar, and collect what is due." He said while looking down at them.
The first impression Howdy had from the stranger gradually changing the more he heard them talk. The person in front of him was not the usual fools prancing in the bar with arrogance, murderous intent, or hidden motives.
Howdy don't speak much. Having little to no will or opinion of his own, losing the voice of reason a long time ago, he doesn't indulge such interactions in form of conversation. It's his way to cope.
But his curiosity wiggling within the chrysalis of his remaining smidge of awareness, safely cocooned by fear. The terror of starting all over again empty and feeling lost, haunted by the feelings, of new stuffings weighs heavier, new stitches and grafted felted skin he couldn't even begin to recall having.
"Really?" Incredulity was thick in their tone. A sigh sounded almost like a whine break through them. "Man, you made one of the most fun job in the world tedious." They sigh again as if the knowledge burdened them a lot.
Unfazed, Howdy put down the glass he polished and proceed to fill another glass of whiskey for the sole customer. Without uttering any words he replace the empty glass with the one he just pour. Howdy leaned a bit lower, towering the stranger with his presence.
"It's on the house. An apology for not reaching the standard of an ideal bartender."
He pulled back, returning from polishing the glasses. Now he waits and watch.
"Wait? Did you just? Are you trying to pull—" they paused, even gasped in exaggeration.
That's the first. Most of the time Mr. Beagle would react violently since his apology always falls flat and bordering to being condescending. Apologizing became his habit of speech from the deep-seated regret anchored in his chest from the very beginning of his servitude to the family. And it's still a mystery why Howdy had this overwhelming regret weighing his unfamilliar body down.
The stranger start scratching the back of their head looking sheepish. "Sorry, my bad. I shouldn't have said something like that. Still, thank you for the free drink." Then they pulled up a smile cheery and carefree.
Every movement on his body came into an abrupt halt. There's an ache flicker in his chest. The pain awfully similar when his boss used his body as a pin cushion whenever his boss was having a terrible mood.
The sensation of thin cold metel puncturing his felted skin, digging deep in his stuffings. But instead of sharp coldness, the pain felt searing, burning in the depths of his emptiness. It's familiar yet still distant for all the consuming free space of his mind. Too soon and too fast the ache dissipate like the swirling smoke floating trails in the air.
The stranger blew a lungful of air to their side, he didn't know if it's a habit or on purpose to avoid the smoke going over his direction.
"You know I don't usually accept things from stranger, especially from a stranger that's obviously dangerous. It's something that really against the rule of my existence." A chuckle rippled between, while they pour the ale on the alcohol. "Also there's no such thing as free in this kind of industry."
There's an obvious shift in the strangers demeanor. Their laid back posture broadened into a poise that holds confidence. The curve of their lips no longer raised softly like a waving flag in the air, their smile now dipped with a sharp edge on the corner.
Holding the glass a bit higher the stranger tipped the glass towards his direction, a gesture of silent toast, before taking a drink.
"So, tell me. What do you want in return?" They asked.
A bit of a static like noise buzzed in his head while a thought slowly formed.
"..." The buzzing in his head grew louder and louder that the grip he had on his ice pick tightened into a breaking point. The wood handle starts to crack.
"What do you mean?" Howdy's curiosity finally found a crevice to the hardened cocoon. The buzzing in his head soothe a little bit.
"As straight forward it can be. What do you want? Can be anything." The stranger's voice also shifted into something eerie, where their words held uncanny meaning behind them.
But Howdy doesn't have desire or the feeling of needing one. He doesn't have anything that he wants.
The lights flickered before one of the lights nearby explode.
The stranger went still for a while, almost like they ceased to exist. Then he saw their shoulders hitched from the sudden jolt. A loud sigh rolled out from them.
"Well, this is a first. Sorry about the lights, you caught me of guard there." The stranger looked finicky, there's an obvious tremble in their wrist as they reach for their smoldering cigarette. "Are you sure you don't have anything you wanted to ask for?" They ask.
There's a stir of his intuition that he's doing something wrong so as usual he apologize.
"My apologies, but I don't have anything to ask for."
The stranger just nodded in return. "Guess I'll just save this debt for later. Maybe when I come to visit again you'll know what you want." Their smile reverted back from being soft and carefree.
They stared up at him again, the intention for eye contact was there even if the tinted glasses covering their eyes.
"I strongly don't like owning something from people whatever it comes from small gifts or gestures. And like I said there's nothing free in this world. So, I owe you something in return."
Although he understood their reasoning, he couldn't help but think of them as dumb. Wasn't it foolish to give a man like him some sort of favor to ask in return, like a leverage when they meet again.
To give Howdy something he could own for himself, to make a conscious decision and choice. With this knowledge he didn't know what to do or feel about it.
But the word 'debt' tickled the emptiness inside of him. It reached the bottom of the abyss which he never knew existed when all he could ever see before was darkness. There lies an end that had been shrouded all along by the absence of light.
Light and debt almost sounded the same in his brain now.
His antenna twitch a bit. "I see. So, am I to expect some more visits from you for now on."
"Yes, but please don't take too long to think about something that you want." They said in an exasperated tone, he even noticed the wince they tried hiding behind the glass as they take a drink.
Howdy waited for the empty glass to slide in front of him, but the stranger started fumbling through their jacket, they pull a wallet. They placed their payment instead.
"I admit my impression of you isn't a pleasant one or the interaction I'm looking forward to end my night...but it's an interesting one." The lone customer's chuckle bounce through the quietness of the place.
He watched them gather their things and put on their jacket before looking back up again. The sunglasses never move or even mede a slight slip on their eyes, defying the motions and gravity.
"Make it worthwhile, ok." They said meaningfully like a reminder. "Have a good night and see you soon."
Howdy watched the odd customer walked out of the bar. The first customer who manage to walk out without the trembles of fear or tails tucked between the legs. Out of all the customers made out of the bar alive or not, they might be the first that would definitely visit back.
He was sure they'll come back, he mused to himself as he looked up to the busted bulb. This particular customer was definitely an anomaly.
Well, fuck. Now they're stuck here until they deal with that bartender. Great. When they ask for something different for fun they didn't mean this.
But, oh well it happened. Might as well go along with it. Go with the flow.
They sighed and just continue walking away from the bar without any place in mind.
