Punks and Drunks 2

“You’re not cool enough to hang out with me.”

Madeira stared at the bun who she had sat next to for a long moment, though she couldn’t make out features too well with the bar’s very dim lighting, baffled.  “Wow, you’re making a lot of assumptions,” she said.  Sure, this was a cheap bar - way cheaper than the Rabbit Hole for sure - but that was why she was here.  Wasn’t like she had a lot of carats.

“Like you’re not?” the other woman snapped.

A few months ago, Madeira probably would have blanched more and backed down, but over a year of working at Wonderland and having finally begun to slowly make some friends had brought her confidence back up some.  “I looked around this place for a seat, and the only open one was next to you.  Maybe use your eyes and you can find the same conclusion.”

The other bun glared at her, but did look around.

Madeira thought she looked as though she hadn’t really… looked at the bar in a while, as her face shifted from pissed to surprised.  “Do you just assume everyone who sits next to you wants to hang out with you?” she asked.

The other ran a hand over her face, before tipping back her drink, finishing it off.  “It’s the case so often that I don’t usually even question it anymore,” she said.  “I was the first jackass publicly spotted with these horns,” she continued, gesturing at the envy horns perched on her head, “So I got swarmed by curiosity and still do.  Doesn’t leave me enough time for the shit I actually care about.”

“Oh, Jackal…  That makes sense.  You’re over at my apartment sometimes for my roommate, right?  The other envies are your priority.”  Madeira had seen her leaving the apartment sometimes when she was coming home.

“...you live with one of my people?”  Jackal relaxed ever so slightly.  Somebun who actually lived with another Envy bun wasn’t likely to view her as some sort of freak or curiosity, which made it significantly easier to tolerate an interaction, even if the bun didn’t meet her usual standard of cool.

“She and I were the last ones released from the Church last year,” Madeira said.

“Right, you’re that one whose caretaker didn’t teach you shit,” Jackal said.  “Tried to gamble with actual carrots.”

“Yeah,” Madeira said, sighing.  “I was relieved when none of the ones who showed up this year had him for a caretaker…”

“Wish I could say the same about Gremory,” Jackal spat.

The bartender had finally made their way back, and the two were quick to order drinks.  Jackal ordered straight vodka, and Madeira ordered a mixed drink.

“How do you stand it, every year?” Madeira asked, after a while.  “I’m already worrying about this next year…”

“I don’t.”  Jackal’s answer was short.  She pulled out a pack of cigarettes.  “Want one?  Price is another drink.”

“I can do that,” Madeira agreed, taking one, before catching the bartender as they finished with the buns next to her.  “Never tried one before but…”

“Mercy and Angora’ve probably kept you too close to have much fun,” Jackal said, with a slight laugh.  It was a little bitter.  “They don’t usually keep my kind that close, I’m the one who looks after them.  Your roommate’s the only exception, but that’s because she was a Gremory favorite for a few months before being discarded like the rest.”  She shook her head, going to light both cigarettes, and put it to her lips.  “But I don’t stand it.  I just can’t do anything about it.  Did you try to have that talk with Mercy?”

Madeira watched how Jackal breathed with the cigarette before actually putting it to her lips, imitating her as precisely as she could.  “I tried, it was frustrating.”  She was pretty sure Jackal meant the talk about why demons - including unreliable or cruel ones - were trusted to raise succubun young.

She nodded.  “That tracks.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Surprised you didn’t breathe it in wrong,” Jackal said.

“Best advice I got when I came here was that if I didn’t know how to do something, I should watch someone else.”  Madeira sighed at the memory.  It had been said in frustration, but it hadn’t been wrong either.  “...what did you mean by you don’t stand it?”

“Every night in April I get drunk or do enough drugs not to think about the fact another set of babies have gone off to be mistreated by that bitch,” Jackal said, and her voice quavered a little before she coughed and got it back to normal. “Then I wake up and try to take care of the last set who were, while some stupid nuns try to tell me their ‘Lord Murmur’ has his reasons so everyone should just keep feeding them to her.”  She finished off her last drink, and snatched the next one from the bartender’s hand, finishing it off too.  “At least the Church helps a bit,” she said.  “But it’s never enough.  Nothing ever will be, until and unless Gremory stops getting children.”

“Yeah…”

They drank and smoked in silence after that, but it was… calmer.  Jackal didn’t seem to get much chance to vent her emotions, especially not with a focus on taking care of other envies.  Madeira wondered if she’d wind up the same way, if Azgad got more buns to raise…  She didn’t think she would be as bitter - for all Azgad’s ineptness, he was at least kind! - but…  It definitely raised questions she hadn’t really considered as much.