September 18th, 2010

propped

Not a happy camper (post for miriam_neiman)

He hadn't wanted to leave the caern, he'd argued with Vladek for hours that all it accomplished was to show them he would rather run away then stand his ground and defend his actions.  Of course the Metis disagreed, it was all about the rules to him, about following what was right and proper, and as he had repeatedly told Juraj, it was his failure to learn and follow those rules that had landed them in the mess they were in.  As if they didn't have enough problems already, both in the caern and with those outside of it.  So he'd left, in the middle of the night, like a thief , or a coward, before anyone but his mentor, his only friend, knowing he was gone.  Vladek had made him promise he'd make no calls in, when the time came that it was safe to come back, he would know.  Juraj still wasn't sure how he was supposed to know if they weren't talking to each other, but, again the Metis said when it was time, the message would find him, and he should just trust him.  How could he not, the man  had given up his own life to protect him how many times, taken beatings for his actions, and finally walked away from his own life to remain at his side when  he couldn't take anymore of the Lord's indoctrination.  If he couldn't trust Vladek, a man who would die for him, he couldn't trust anyone.

He'd left on foot, and walked most of the day, by nightfall all he wanted was food and sleep, the scavenging came easy when the little money he had ran out, unfortunately, his anger began to grow as well.  What right did anyone have to dictate what he did with his life, to control who he was, who he saw, who he fucked?  He was an adult, his life was his own, or it should have been, now, if only someone would tell that to the Lords, or those running the caern.

He needed not to think about anything for a while, he needed to score, get drunk, both, he could do that, money wasn't that hard to come by if you worked things right, and he'd survived by the skills before.  So what if he'd swore never to fall back into those habits, he needed to escape, it'd just be this once...just once.

Once it was done it was nothing to get what he needed and find a place to hide out, so what if it was just an abandoned building, that reeked of garbage and the countless others who'd been there before, it was basically dry, and it gave him a place to get high without too much worry about anyone interfering, that's all he needed.