Extreme Ways
Aug. 2nd, 2012 07:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Who: Vivian. Marty. Fin. Mac. Eothian. Markus.
When: Nowish.
Rating: R for adult content. Maybe NC-17 for sexual talk about a horse.
------------------------------
The bar was one of many at the hotel Marty owned. This one was simple in appearance just a normal down to earth bar and Vivian was sitting at one of the tables with two others. Well, technically one was sitting at the table. The other was stretched out on the floor, his ever present duffle bag under his head as a make shift pillow. And a stuffed toy cow lay in the crook of his arm as the other arm lay across his eyes while he gave the appearance of sleeping. The old man didn't snore unlike his older brother who at that point in time wasn't snoring seen as he was sitting opposite Vivian drinking straight Tequila. Her gaze was on him as he drank, more to the point it was wide eyed and she had her mouth slightly opened as she looked at him.
"What?" Mac arched an eyebrow at Vivian who had been starting at him slack jawed for the last few seconds. Mac was never one for much words unless something ticked him off and he would let loose with a stream f-bombs followed by more words than he was generally known for.
Vivian on the other hand had no brain to mouth filter. Swore like a trooper, or in her case, a Viking whose memories lay in the front of her brain after the Quickening she took from him. She had a lot to say, always.
"What the hell is that on your head?" It wasn't the most shocking thing she had ever seen on a man but on Mac ....
Pouring himself another drink into the shot glass Mac gave a rare chuckle."It's called hair, baby."
Vivian opened her mouth and closed it. Talking about Mac's hair was better than trying to get any information from either brother about what was going on with Marty and that woman---Vivian had never in her life seen any one so beautiful. Sure, maybe on the covers of some fashion magazine, or in a movie but not in real life. They were there, behind private doors talking about something important and Vivian had to be baby sat by two brothers. She knew trying to make a run for it to press her ear against the door to listen would be useless; for starters the room was sound proof. That left talking about Mac's hair until she was allowed to know what was going on.
"You don't have hair." He did though. A full head of hair that fell just shy of his shoulders. The colouring was dark a contrast to soft brown eyes. The hair she could just maybe accept. The appearance suited him but if she wanted to be honest with herself she preferred him without hair. She wondered how many women had ran their hands over his bald head while he was on his knees tasting them. Vivian didn't blush but the unbidden thought caused her to lower her lashes and reach across the table for a drink of the Tequila. She used his glass and from the rim could just pick up the barely there smokey hint of his cigarette he was smoking.
"Now the hair I can about fucking get but what the fuck crawled up on your lip and die? Fuck me, it looks like you just came out of a seventies porn movie with that 'stache."
Mac shook his head and absently stroked the porn ‘stache with his fingertips. There was a sound of laughter from the man stretched out on the floor who had obviously been awake the entire time, "He did porn when he wasn't all business."
"The hell I did, baby."
Vivian moved slightly nudging the boot of the old man, "You can't say something like that and not give a shit load of details." She said with a sound of protest in her voice wanting more.
"There's no details." Interjected Mac, who was determined to prove Eothian wrong. Eothian shot him down, "Yeah, there is. Remember when Fin dragged you off the stage in Vegas after you came on in fishnet stockings, heels, bow tie, and that horse? Man people should ask where your mouth has been, seriously."
"He wore fishnet stockings and heels; what else did he wear?"
Mac pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew what else he wore and when he wasn't forth coming with the reply Eothian answered for him..."A neatly manicured peen. Visible for all the audience to see."
Vivian clamped a hand over her mouth holding back the laughter. "But what did the horse have to do with anything?"
At that moment Mac looked like for all the world he wanted to slide under the table and some how disappear.
"I was singing The Doors Baby light my fire." Mac muttered as he pulled back the glass and the bottle; this time he drank straight from the bottle foregoing the glass. The action took his mind off of the fact Vivian was starting at him trying to piece the information together and when she did she dropped her hand away from her mouth, "A horse... Oh my fucking god…"
Eothian laughed hard and spoke up, "Fin dragged him offstage before things got too explicit. Man she yelled for six months afterwards. It was all Mac's fault we couldn't go on stage high or drunk after that; and animals were outright banned."
Mac lips curled into his famous lop sided grin. "I think she would have preferred us drunk and high after you fell in the mosh pit... Sober."
"The crowd loved that." Eothian hadn't enjoyed the experience so much when he fell and hit the floor. He sighed softly at the fond memories, "I miss that."
Mac sighed even more softly. After he had been shot on stage due to a foiled attempt from the wicked step mother to kill them all, an attempt that put him in a coma because of it; Mac had no desire to ever be on stage again. The family had accepted his decision too knowing Mac was the type of man who preferred to run than stay in personal difficulties. A contrast to the business man who when faced with any difficulties always bull dogged his way to win. His business affairs were easy to deal with.
Mac knew Eothian loved singing, hell he knew the old man loved the attention more and Mac hated taking that away from him. "Yeah, I know you do baby."
Vivian sobered as she listened to the longing exchange between the brothers; she suddenly felt like she was eavesdropping on a private conversation. The awkward moment temporary saved when both men suddenly moved so fast Vivian wondered how they had done it. They were in front of her, guns pulled, standing shoulder to shoulder facing Markus.
Markus held his hands up in surrender. Thankful for the moment none of them had the tendency to shoot first ask questions later. He doubt he could expect that from Fin. Hands held high up in the air he spoke to Mac, who he knew could be reasoned with more than the old man and Fin; Mac after all was Hawken’s ambassador.
“We all need to talk.” Said Markus.
Three sets of eyes started at him incredulous. “I would like to kill you.” Said Eothian as he approached. Markus expected it.
“Certainly. After we discuss Draugs.”
He knew then he had everyone’s full attention. Well, except Vivian, who had no idea what was being talked about. By the reaction in the room she suspected Draugs were not something pleasant.
“Shite.” Said Mac as he lowered his gun.
“We are all in shit, yes.”
Vivian’s gaze darted back and forth between the three men. Her expression darkened into a scowl followed by a pout of her lips,
“Will some one fucking tell me what the hell is going on?”
Three voices chimed in, “Not now.”
Vivian slunk back into her chair, annoyed. “I’m not a fucking baby. Jesus.” She knew no amount of sulking was going to change the fact she was still in the dark about everything.
“Fuck it, I’m not a mushroom.” She said to no one but herself. She took the bottle of Tequila Mac had been drinking and set about finishing it off. It was going to be a long day.