the_last_resort | Niko Bellic

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Niko Bellic | Log 003

Who: Niko Bellic | Charon
What: An attempt to make Charon be human
When: Sometime before the trip to the desert temple and after Dorian's masquerade.
Where: All around Blackway
Notes & Warnings: Language probably. Horrors will likely come up, as it is Charon and Niko and their worlds suck. Some talk of human trafficking to start.

He didn't know when he'd gotten it into his head that he was going to try and see if he could pull some of Charon's humanity back into view. There had to be some in there. Maybe it was that uneasy feeling that Charon had spent more than a lifetime being owned. Maybe it was knowing that Niko himself had sold people, had saddled them with ownership. Maybe because Niko knew he'd been owned by Bulgarin and his sordid business, and that was so damn hard to escape. Maybe it was that when he looked at Charon, he looked on the outside like Niko sometimes felt on the inside.

Whatever the reason, he was trying as hard as he could. First there was the bowling alley at Mr. Jellicles. And then pool and darts at Pugsy's. Oh, he was putting effort into it, and from what he could tell there was very little response.

In a way, it was kind of heart-wrenching. He worried sometimes that he was beyond saving, he didn't want to think a big hunk of Charon's head was, too.

Then again, he guessed that there was such a thing as trying too hard.

Niko didn't let it cross his face as he stepped out of Pugsy's with him. He just patted the tall ghoul on the shoulder and gave him one of his failed-friendly looks. "Well, at least I know how good your aim is now." See? Wouldn't Roman be pleased with Niko for looking on the positive side. He pulled his hand back, ignoring the odd scent that came off Charon and feeling ashamed that he was a little concerned that his glove might end up smelling like that if he kept touching him.

Eh. He'd smelled worse.

"I'll see you later?" He offered and started to walk off finally, internally defeated but refusing, refusing to let it show because if there was one iota of humanity left in Charon- well, Niko knew how he would feel if someone gave up on him right to his face. He hadn't made it more than twelve steps when he accidentally ran into the back of a large, scaled man.

The next moment Niko had strong, three-fingered hands wrenching into the collar of his coat and lifting him off the ground. All fucking 6'2'' and 200 lbs of meaty, muscly Serb. "Oh, it's you." He said mildly, and then stooge poked the bastard in the eyes. It succeeded in getting him dropped hard onto the sidewalk, anyway.

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Charon, at the very least, was able to separate himself from the contractually obligated lifestyle to some extent. Maybe not so much that there were any glaringly visible changes, but he went bowling, played pool, and a game of darts with someone he considered...someone he didn't mind hanging around, and that's just not something he would have done before he arrived here. Believe it or not he was on a personal mission to start anew -- that's why he's here, after all. What "starting anew" entailed, even he wasn't sure, but regardless of the fact that he found very little joy in the things he did once upon a time he went with it anyway.

Old habits die hard though, as he was still itching to get back to work. That's just how it was with him. Even if his job most of the day consisted of patrolling the same places over and over, diffusing ruckuses before they got out of hand, nothing glorious...but it was work. Work is what he knows. Even as he recalled vague memories of playing pool with the guys, having a beer and playing darts, bowling even...most of the feelings associated with them were long gone. And the ones that weren't were buried deep, because dredging them up seemed pointless. Casual conversation, engaging in these activities -- he partially recognized their role in living as your own person, but as he went through them it was hard to find purpose in them. Hence his incredible lack of enthusiasm.

The pat on the back earns a small sound from Charon, half-assed acknowledgement that Niko said something and Charon heard it. And a curt, "yes" at his offer. He will likely see him later, patrolling around like a mindless...ghoul.

He's already walking away when he hears the commotion behind him, and by the time he turns around he sees Niko being dropped on to the floor. Charon is quick to stride on over, neither concerned nor intimidated by the scaly punk, and stand between him and Niko, milky blue eyes boring holes into the man. His voice was more gruff than normal, if possible, but Charon made sure to speak clearly enough so he wouldn't have to repeat himself.

"The hell do you think you're doing?"

Edited 2014-09-09 02:37 (UTC)

The scaly guy was a hair from stepping forward when Charon got in his way. Only he was used to the uniformed patrol of the village, not the newcomers. So as far as he knew this was just some guy getting up in his face and two fucking frills flapped out on either side of his head threateningly, bright red in color. He responded accordingly, and with great class, by spattering swears in a strange language in Charon's direction. Then switches to Standard. "Rotty smelling deadite! This is none of your business."

Niko got to his feet behind Charon, shaking off the disorientation. He would have fought back, only... well, there's patrol there. Patrol he invited along. In his head he debated the benefits of mocking the asshole from behind Charon's back and just trying to calm the situation down. There wasn't much of his pride left, but it wanted to fight.

Was pride worth fighting for anymore, though?

No. No it wasn't. Only money. If he continued to pick a fight, this jerk might say what his problem was with Niko, and that would do him a lot more damage. Or worse, he could watch all that effort he just put into Charon evaporate with a bullet to the head- he can't imagine ghouls stand up too well to them.

"What are you going to do?! Just stare at me like an ape! You fucking apes are all the same. Spread disease when you fuck. Smell like shit. Fucking gross mismatched teeth."

Niko was glowering at the punks insults, staring him down, but his glare wavered as he hit that insult and the Serb found himself sticking his fingers in his mouth to check his teeth in confusion. "Whaw wa fuh ih wong wih m'tef?" he asked himself without pulling them out. Didn't take him long, though. He got back to glaring with the force of a thorough beating real quick.

Edited 2014-09-09 05:26 (UTC)

The insults do nothing to instigate him, honestly. He's heard every one in the book and with the length of his lifespan that's actually feasibly possible. It's the guy's obviously aggressive stance and the fact that he's more than likely to escalate this farther than he already has that's pissing him off.

He's not afraid to get into a skirmish, but if he can avoid that it would be great. And though he's grateful Niko doesn't say anything to piss the scaly asshole off even more, he makes a bit of a face when he sticks his fingers in his mouth (he can tell without looking, sigh), preferring he didn't respond at all. But his stance remains unwavering, still like a statue but ready to make a move should it come down to it. He's not sure what this guy has against Niko, but right now he was causing the problem and Charon would do his job and protect. Besides, Niko has been good to him, and so long as he wasn't the instigator he doesn't want to see him get beaten to a pulp.

"You have two choices. Either you walk away, or you continue to be a threat and I take you in." And he doesn't think he needs to specify after saying "take you in" that he's part of security. "My suggestion would be choice number one."

Without missing a beat the punk spat something in Charon's face.

Whatever it was, it was slimy and sticky, like honey but foul scented and unappealing. Worse, it was white, and somehow that made it infinitely more awful. And right as that happened Niko's reflexes kicked in- not so much for violence, but he just saw someone spit in the face of his friend. His company just had his pride violated (though Charon didn't seem to have much pride left, maybe it was some sort of communal pride), and Niko was obligated to act.

"Fuck you!" He lurched forward, reaching around Charon to mash his fist into the guy's face. "Држите јебени испљувак за себе!!"

The spitting in his face did indeed do nothing to damage whatever iota of pride Charon managed to cling to. But it did, however, piss him off. And just as he's wiping the unfortunately white crap from his face with a deathly glare aimed in the lizard man's direction, he ends up having to reach back and stop Niko from throwing himself at the 6 foot beast.

Mainly so he could throw his own punch. And with all the experience Charon had punching disorderly assholes who wanted to cause a ruckus? His punches were anything but kind when they landed.

The guy hissed as Charon's fist hit him in the face, and Niko couldn't really get at him once he was shoved back.

That was a hell of a punch, though, with a lot of angry ghoul packed behind it. But the lizard guy didn't go down easy- instead he sprang up and tried to knock Charon back with both feet like a fucking kangaroo.

"Man stop! Just fucking stop!" another guy that was hanging out with the scaly bastard was yelling at his friend as all this was going on. "Dudes are armed, knock it off! It's not worth it, shithead!"

Charon had been expecting pretty much every form of attack but that one -- and so those feet connect with his chest and he's send backwards. Luckily Charon is a big guy and used to being knocked back by bigger things, so he's quick to get back on his feet and remove the shotgun from his back. He avoids pulling out the rifle Niko had given him because a shotgun is close range -- he wanted to show he was damn sure thinking about using his gun, about the better option.

"Listen to your friend." He's pointing the gun at the big lizard, glancing back over his shoulder real quick to make sure he hadn't rammed right into Niko and knocked him down. "I've blown the heads off of things bigger than you without a second thought."

Niko's trigger finger was real damn itchy. Shooting the guy in the face would have been so easy back home and no one would have thought anything of it (except for the fact that dudes with scales are few and far between).

The lizard fella seemed to get the point with the shotgun aimed at him, and started to back off. "Alright! Fine! Fine! I get it!" but his garrish frill only half lowered. Didn't matter, though, he was backing off.

Charon was itching to blow the guy's head off himself, but things were different here, and work ethic was ingrained enough into him that he wouldn't do anything stupid, even if he was technically off duty. Technically. Because honestly, he's never off duty.

He lowers his shotgun once the guy is a decent enough distance away, but his guard is far from let down. In fact, he's watching the big lizard as he backs off.

"Asshole." The mutter is low and really, unless you were close enough it sounded more like he was clearing his throat.

Hesitantly Niko reached out and settled a hand on Charon's armor, finally leaning in to see how much of the gross stuff was still on him. He suspected it was probably hard for ghouls to clean off that crap, sometimes, with the state of their skin.

"Hey uh... Why don't uh.... we go clean this off, man. Sit somewhere and I can help you take care of it."

He was a little regretful for escalating it, he'd just been pissed off. But that was one of Niko's problems, he got pissed off easy.

"I got it," is Charon's gruff reply as he reaches up to wipe more of that gunk off. Unfortunately he only succeeds in getting some on his arm and making it worse.

There's a string of grumbled curses muttering under his breath as he lowers his arm and glares disdainfully at the white...stuff.

"The hell is this shit?"

"Not sure, but I do guess that it's a pretty big insult." He sounds a little pissed at it, because he didn't like his friends insulted and whatever the hell that was probably was intended to do some damage.

"Come on, here, let me-" He thumped his shoulder and tried to usher him towards a restaurant with outdoor seating. There he could sit him down and get him some paper towels.

Charon doesn't budge at first when Niko nudges him, but when he realizes he's not going to get this crap off himself he grumbles something under his breath and begins to head towards the restaurant.

He continues to try and get the stuff off of him as he moves over to one of the seats, but he's still having no luck.

Niko probably should have been more put off. Instead he was reminded of some of the bombing victims in the war, burn victims pulled from rubble, that needed their skin cleaned. The smell on Charon proved he was far beyond that point.

He used a table napkin, holding the back of Charon's head and with his thumb up behind where his ear once was to keep him steady, 'cause he could tell he didn't like being tended to. All the while he was ignoring odd looks from customers because fuck them, they didn't have someone spit in their face.

He was trying to be quick about it, at least.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked, just to be sure.

There's a twitch every so often in Charon's face - or lack thereof, as Niko wipes away at the white gunk, the napkin likely taking away other oozy messes that comes from a constantly rotting face. He almost swats his hand away to tell him to forget it, that he'd take care of it later. But he was here, and going back on patrol with white shit on his face was bound to have him be taken less seriously. Sometimes, Charon really hated it when tiny bits of insecurities he hadn't felt in decades resurfaced for seemingly no apparent reason. Maybe he was going mad.

"No." Just aggravating quite a bit. But it wasn't Niko's fault, he at least realizes. It was just the situation he was put in. The fact that he was sitting here needing aid for the most ridiculous shit. He would have felt better if he needed a bullet taken out of his gut, honestly.

His next words are gruff, naturally, tinged with impatience. "Is it coming off?"

"Yeah, it's almost taken care of." He pulled the napkin back and threw it away. "Good enough to get the rest off in a sink pretty easy." He thought better of making a wry remark that at least Charon wasn't stuck walking around looking like someone blew a load in his face.

That is a very wise decision Niko, because Charon sure as hell would not appreciate the humor. Hell, he wouldn't have appreciated it decades ago either. He was always a serious person.

There's obvious hesitation in his words, but the roughness in his voice...or tone, at least, has lessened quite a bit.

"...Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem." He replied, shrugging lightly after. "What are annoying unwanted friends for."

Despite the self depreciating humor, he seemed in a good humor about it and went ahead and beckoned over a waitress to order some tea, and some jam like you would put on toast. She looked confused, but went to fulfill the order.

"One time we had this friend, Florian. He dreamed of becoming a professional wrestler. But ah, not normal wrestling. Turkish style. So he convinced me and our other friends to cover ourselves in olive oil and try to have a match? Imagine a room full of idiot teenagers. Barefoot. Linoleum floor. Greased up. We almost broke our necks." He chuckles faintly at the memory. "Cleaning off this is way easier than that..."

Really he had no idea how he didn't know Florian was gay for so long.

Edited 2014-10-19 22:22 (UTC)

Charon listened if only because Niko was talking, and he was used to listening. Of course, now he didn't have to, but it was force of habit. Unfortunately being a good conversationalist wasn't a force of habit, and after Niko is done reminiscing on his teenage years (could Charon even remember being a teenager? No, that was one of the things forever lost on him), he clears his throat (or maybe it's just another one of his sounds), and fixes Niko with a look that shows he's sill business.

"Who was that guy?"

Because that whole confrontation is still running through his head. That scaly bastard seemed to know him.

"The fucking lizard guy?" Of course the fucking lizard guy. Niko just shrugged.

"Just some asshole that doesn't like me too well. We had an argument a while back. Every time he sees me he tries to do that fucking kangaroo bullshit now."

"I can deal with it, though." He dismisses it as he gets something to drink. "Assholes are assholes, no matter where you go. The assholes haven't been too bad here."

Charon would definitely agree that assholes are still assholes wherever you go. There's no denying that.

"He attacked two armed men," and you better believe his tone was tinged with disbelief, a feeling that there was a little more to it than that. "Must have been one hell of an argument."

"Everyone is armed, there are spiders. Besides, he fucking knows I don't shoot people anymore," Niko grumped unhappily, taking a pack of sugar to turn in his fingers and look at. Anymore being the operative word. He used to. His conscious effort to change has, for the most part, left him feeling hollow. Not because he likes murder, but he hates guys like that walking on him.

"We're at the far end of town. The people around here usually don't see security out here, so if someone has a problem, they usually take care of it themselves."

"It was still a stupid move."

But Charon isn't going to try and find logic in a random thug. It's not like he isn't used to dealing with idiots and/or crazy people who act on rash and irrational thought.

"If you say you can handle it, fine." He's not one to push. But if he has to get involved he will, that much goes without saying.

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Niko Bellic | Log 003

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