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Closing the Night Down (Florian)

Posted: Sat Oct 23, 2021 10:26 pm
by Franky
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Ash 3, 121

It was in the wee hours of the morning, somewhere after midnight, as the Gobbler was winding down after another successful Lysanrin Happy Hour Night. The kitchen had already closed up and cleaned. Last call had been about twenty minutes ago, and the people who could still walk had wobbled their way out into the night. Franky had just finished picking up all of the passed out people and laying them all cuddled together in the corner, the overnight bills pinned to their chests.

Franky had just finished sweeping the floor and wiping down the tables, and was happy with the state of the bar. He went and poured himself a drink, a Weissburg Honeyweiss, sweet and golden, moving over to lean on the bar and keep company of the last man standing for the night. Across from him, perked upon the stool, was Florian, who had come in earlier that night with the request that Franky 'Fuck him up'.

This was only the second time they had ever met, but the last one was memorable to Franky. Florian had gotten so drunk that Franky had to carry him to bed, tucking him in. He was a small, skinny man, even for his heritage, but he had the heart of a juggernaut. The lad certainly didn't give up on what he set his mind to do, be it drinking games or getting fucked up. And Franky could respect that. He would always respect that in anyone.

Franky hadn't pressed the man on what led him to get so fucked up in the first place. Franky wasn't a pushy bartender, he let people come to him. He provided the drinks and the food and his ear and his various words of wisdom, be they what they were, to anyone who sought them out. So Franky leaned there, sipped at his beer, and waited for the man to speak, to thump face first into the bar, or to wobble on his way out. Until then, he would drink and provide company.



Re: Closing the Night Down (Florian)

Posted: Sun Nov 07, 2021 2:15 am
by Florian
Florian was still awake. With how much he had been drinking, he shouldn't have been surprised that his tolerance for alcohol was growing. Not that he wasn't feeling its effects. He had his forehead resting on his arm on the counter and he looked at the floor below him, his pants, his boots, his lap. He was in one piece, and it was a regretful state to be in.

He moved his head up, his face obscured behind his arm except for his eyes and the scar on the bridge of his nose. His eyes were blue, a light blue, an almost unnatural, striking blue. It was a far cry from the dull grey he had walked into the bar with, and framed by his long white lashes, they were almost pretty. With a heavy sigh, he lifted his head up, crossed his dangling arm over the one on the counter, and almost delicately placed his head back down, his chin resting on his limbs and his whole face visible.

He reached for the glass of water in front of him and lifted his head enough to drink it in one go before he placed it back on the counter and pushed it back. He wanted more water, but he had yet to gather the energy to ask for it. His thoughts were fuzzy and muddled and he wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to be doing the next morning but he knew it was important. Hopefully he wouldn't be hungover for it. That was what the water was for.

It upset him that even the alcohol couldn't make him forget what he saw, what he felt, the gaping loss of the only person he felt like he really had in his life. His head still raised, he lifted a hand up and rubbed his face and pushed his curly hair back. It was getting longer, but he didn't have the time to cut it before the Expedition. He finally summed up the energy to open his mouth.

"Franky," Florian started speaking, but there was a silence drawn out before he continued. He was just drunk enough to speak, and just sober enough to be intelligible. "What are your thoughts on death?"

Re: Closing the Night Down (Florian)

Posted: Fri Feb 04, 2022 11:55 pm
by Franky
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And just like that, seeing this young man's eyes, really seeing them again, for they had been downcast for most of the night, brought it all racing back. He remembered that first time he saw eyes just like those. That dirty little immigrant girl in her burlap dress, scared and confused about this new home she and her family had been forced to move to. It tightened Franky's chest and his throat, and it stunned the barman for a moment as Florian then punched right through it all with an even more piercing question.

Franky took a long, silent moment, seeing that Florian needed more water, had been reaching for it. He was operating without thinking now, the role of the bartender as his mind wrestled his heart and he forced the undropped tears back into his eyes where they belonged. He grabbed a flagon, and dipped it into the ice chest, setting it before the man. "Suck on the ice. Drink too much water and I'll have to clean your vomit after the floor." It was a gruff, no nonsense reply.

But soon, he slipped back into the Franky that people knew. The man beyond the bartender. He pulled up a stool, sitting across from Florian, "Death is not something I truly learned to understand until fairly recently. It's not an understanding I wish upon anyone."

It was time to tell some stories, for that's what Franky did. "Before I began this bar, I was a soldier. For me entire life, from the age of five, my life was dedicated to the military service of the Imperium. And it is different there. Here, the soldiers have no outward enemy, they have no real threats at their borders. The soldiers are bored, they are ignorant, and they go unused, and they seek out enemies within to sate that training. But in the Imperium, we hunted everywhere. Neighbors were not friends or allies, they were simply holding land and people that would become ours. And we took. I killed my first man when I was young like you, and that's when I thought I knew death. I figured it was just an end to everything, good or bad. It ended suffering, it ended goodness, it ended mistakes.

And I was wrong."


He paused, looking over at Florian, a desperate attempt to see those eyes that reminded him of her. "There's no finality in death, there's no peace in it. There's nothing good about it, no matter the circumstances. I..." Franky looked around even though he knew it was just the two of them, "I loved a woman, still do. Her name is Beatrix, and she was beautiful. She was always too skinny because she never ate enough, sometimes by choice, others not. If she could give her meal to someone more in need, she would. She was a Lysanrin, like yourself." 'You have her eyes' went unspoken, "She didn't ask for her lot in life, and she did not accept it. She fought for what she believed to be the right thing, and eventually she killed for it. And still, she was the beautiful, loving woman I had known since I was a child."

A deep sigh and a long drink from his flagon, "But death is a corruption. It does not end things, it only grows them. Soldiers are ruined because of the death they inflict, and the living are ruined by the family members and friends taken from them. Death turns memories into cancers, it turns heroes into monsters, it turns the righteous into the wrong."

He looked up and found Florian's eyes once more, "Death is the cruelest thing that can be inflicted on those who witness it. It never matters the reason for it. It doesn't matter if people go to be with their gods or in some heaven or reenter the life cycle. None of that matters. Death is a monster that will consume the living who survive."

Franky's face got stern now, not because Florian needed to hear what he had to say, but because he himself did, "The only thing in this world that can fight back against death and the corruption it spreads is love. Nothing else will work. This booze I peddle fixes nothing. Tears fix nothing. Vengeance fixes nothing. If death is eating at your heart, Florian, then you need to find someone you love, something you love, and love them even harder. The pain will never go away, but you can make your heart bigger so you can handle it better."

Franky drained the rest of his drink, "You're a good kid Florian, I know that much." 'You've got her eyes, after all.' "I've sold you poison all night. And I will do so again. So you've asked me about death, so I ask you question in return. What are your thoughts on love?"


Re: Closing the Night Down (Florian)

Posted: Sun Feb 06, 2022 9:48 pm
by Florian
Florian listened somberly to Franky's story as he sucked on a chip of ice. The death of his mother was similar, almost, but it wasn't the same. She was murdered for little more than her existence, as far as he could gather. They had taken nothing from her. A purposeless death, not even a robbery. A murder. A murder. A murder. And Florian couldn't help but blame himself, for the attention drawn to himself — no matter how minor — as the cause of this needless death of hers.

"She sounds like she was a good person," Was all Florian really knew to offer. He didn't know how to comfort someone in grief, and he didn't even know what he wanted to be comforted by. He liked when Eitan held him when he was crying or sleeping, but that was just the once. Maybe it would happen again. He didn't know what to do, and he wasn't sure if Franky knew about loving someone you couldn't ever be with. Or maybe he did. The man seemed like he'd lived a long life already; surely it wasn't something only Florian experienced, even if it felt that way.

"My thoughts on love?" Florian mulled it over. "I loved my mother and she died. She took care of me, and she worked so hard to make sure I had shoes and food and a coat in the winter, and I tried to take care of her, too. And she died before I could." He sighed.

"She loved me more than I deserved. I go out and get into fights and drink and lose most every job since I started working at 12 because I hated being told what to do. But I loved her so much." He was sobbing as he spoke, if Franky could even pick out the words he said. "And now someone else I love has to help me pick up the pieces, and he doesn't even know I love him. I don't know if he loves me. But he's helped me, even when I show up in the middle of the night. He's helped me sleep. So maybe that's love, too. I don't know."

Re: Closing the Night Down (Florian)

Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2022 10:49 am
by Franky
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A bit of Franky's jaded beliefs came out now in his reply, "Good and bad are not really how people work, no matter how hard we try and convince ourselves and the world of it. She was an entirely selfless person, but that selflessness led her to committing atrocities in the name of good change in the world." He sighed, taking a drink, "I had to stop her." That was a memory he hated revisiting, and yet, this damn man reopened it with his beautiful eyes and his aching heart.

As the conversation moved into the topic of love, Franky began to wonder who this bartender therapy session was actually for. Franky topped off his own drink, "I'm a father. I have a dozen children, all adults now. And it is a parents privilege and the greatest gift to love a child wholly and unequivocally, no matter what. Love isn't something that is deserved. No one deserves to be loved and no one ever will. There's always a million reasons to not love or be loved, and none of them are right. Love is bigger than those things, cannot be stopped by those things. Your mother loved you exactly for who you are. She loved you more every time you got into a fight, loved you more every time you lost a job. Every time you came home, she loved you more. It's the best part of being a parent."

Franky found himself truly missing his family. He'd had his reasons for leaving the Imperium, but maybe he would go back to visit them once he was more established here. That could be nice.

"I'm sure that man loves you as well. Love isn't something that is inflicted upon someone, after all. It's not a curse or a sickness, no matter what the poets or bards say. It is something that two people build together. As much as you love him, I'm confident he loves you the same in return. Though he may not be the best at saying as such. I was the slower one in my marriage for that sort of thing as well. Not because the feeling wasn't there, but because trying to put words to a feeling that's beyond words is hard as hell."

He smiled at the young man, "I've no doubt in the world that you're well loved. That pain and grief in your heart for your mother, that is proof of the love you two had for one another. After all, what is grief if not love persevering? She may have died, but the love you two built cannot and will not."

Franky leaned forward onto the bar. He'd stay here and comfort this man for as long as he needed. He was trying to be the bartender he needed when he left the hospital after he was discharged. His was just a man who was trying to bilk him for every coin he had for some absolute swill. And, of course, Franky had spent the coin, but it certainly didn't do any good.

Re: Closing the Night Down (Florian)

Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2022 8:26 pm
by Jane Farraway
Your Review

Franky
Requested Lore:
Resistance: Weissburg Honeyweiss
Detection: The sweet notes of Weissburg Honeyweiss
Caregiving: Helping a drunk to suck on ice chips
Storytelling - Story: Generalized story of Franky's first love
Storytelling: Trying to keep one's personal feelings out of it
Storytelling: Be expressive when you fail to keep your personal feelings out of it
Storytelling: Franky's perspective as a parent
Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Exp: 10 points, non-magical

Florian
Requested Lore:
Resistance: Staying awake after a night of drinking
Storytelling: Opening up about his childhood
Philosophy: What is love, really?
Psychology: Processing grief
Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Exp: 10 points, non-magical

Comments: A short, but very lovely thread. Franky, your musings on love were truly beautiful. It was touching but sad to see Florian's softer side in regards to his mother. Since you did not request the maximum, I thought I'd throw one in. Maybe it will help him on his journey. Very well written posts from you both.