Naushe wiped at his freckled browline with his forearm as he forced his body fully upright, looming over a box he had successfully relocated to the basement of the tattoo parlor. The lights in the cellar were anything but bright-- candles upon their holders flickered dully in the darkness while shadows slipped in and out of view. With a frown, he pressed both hands into the lower portion of his back in an attempt to crack his aging back. A small click called out from beneath his palms, not loud enough to warrant any sort of echo against the stone walls, but coincidentally brought about a subtle wince to his haggard facade.
After extinguishing the flame on each candle, he proceeded to scale the steps, leading him into the main floor of the shop. It was significantly warmer aboveground, where a hearty fire crackled in the fireplace across the open hall, so Naushe made certain to close the cellar door behind him in order to keep out the chill. As soon as he managed to do so, the double-doors at the parlor's front entrance flew open and an icy gust of wind surged through the fresh opening. He promptly snapped his gaze to the sudden burst of light that forced itself in from outside, which was somewhat obscured by two silhouettes.
Once his eyes adjusted to the change, Naushe immediately recognized the two figures: his brother-in-law, Richard, and his son, Carrick. Considering the events that unfurled just hours ago, the Kearney could feel the color drain from his cheeks.
"Oh, ehm… Richard. Carrick-- I didn't expect you back so soon, lad," Naushe called out while turning toward the two visitors fully. He rubbed his hands together out of instinct, due to the drop in temperature.
Richard was scowling, eyes like daggers. He narrowed them on his wife's brother, only to yank Carrick forward by his thin wrist and gesture to the moderately injured boy. "Y'want t'explain this??" Richard growled, teeth bared and face growing redder as moments escaped the trio. Carrick's large eyes were rimmed with unshed tears, but he still managed to mouth the word "sorry" through a split lip, in his uncle's direction.
Naushe's gaze lingered on his nephew for a brief time, before angling back upon Richard. Despite being rather nervous, he was more than aware of the size difference-- Richard nearly took up the entirety of the doorway. "Hey, hey-- easy. You're goin' t'bang him up even more, if y'keep on like that," Naushe retorted indignantly. After a hard swallow and a tensing of his jaw, the Kearney closed the gap between the two groups. When Naushe was about mid-way across the parlor, Richard dropped the grip on his son, barrelled forward, and sent a sturdy shove for Naushe's chest as he neared.
The thrust easily tossed the smaller, peg-legged man to the floorboards with a distinct thud. Naushe grimaced at the action, peering up at the offender with a scowl and his left hand raised to some degree. "Calm down--"
"Calm down?? This is the last feckin' straw, Kearney!" Richard interrupted, spitting venom with each syllable. He sent a sharp kick for Naushe's exposed side in the process. "Y'ain't t'be takin' Carrick with you t'pit fights! I've already told y'once!" Another kick connected with Naushe's rib cage, causing the graying redhead to curl up and wheeze as he clutched at his afflicted abdomen.
"Pa', stop!" Carrick cried out. The teen reached out to grip at his father's nearest arm and pull with all his might to attempt at breaking up the one-sided spat. "Please!"
Richard wasn't at all dissuaded, delivering a hefty boot to Naushe's exposed face, and because he was blinded with fury, Richard also sent a quick, impulsive shove in reverse; Carrick was caught by the elbow and his small body crashed harshly into the wall with an audible thump. He stayed back, fearful of what his father would do if he intercepted again, and helplessly watched on as the events unfurled before him.
Naushe, left eye obscured completely by the blood that cascaded from his browline, moved to rise; however, his balance was heavily compromised and made it nearly impossible for him to stand without the help of the wooden pillar behind him. If the circumstances were anything but violent, one would've assumed that Richard was aiding Naushe in rising, but this was not the case. Richard's meaty fingers curled about his opponent's shirt collar and he proceeded to heave up the dazed Naushe, eventually slamming the man's back against the beam from before.
From there, Richard barraged Naushe's face with a flurry of punches, cocking his fist back after each impact. His knuckles grew red and began to throb from the pain of pitting them against a somewhat solid surface, but it was Naushe that had it worse. The Kearney could do nothing but endure each strike until Richard grew tired; the large, brother-in-law did indeed grow weary, but not before dealing a considerable amount of damage.
Panting, Richard released Naushe and shook out his battered hand, peering down at his victim's collapsed body that was sprawled out across the parlor's floorboards. Naushe was also breathing in a labored fashion, sluggishly staring out at nothing with half-lidded eyes.
Carrick shoved off from the wall he was pressed against for the duration of the beating, immediately sliding to the ground aside Naushe. Tears welled up in the boy's emerald eyes, which were locked on his uncle's pair.
"I'm sorry…" he exhaled, hands quivering as his fingers knitted together in his lap.
It was not long before his eyes darted to his father, who was still towering over them. Anger sparked from within and he barked aloud, "I told you t'stop! Why can y'never listen?!"
Richard appeared to calm some, but maintained a stern facade. "Boy-- don't y'start yellin' at me. Bastard had it comin', I warned him plenty a'times t'keep you out a'harm's way!" His face twisted up into an expression that conveyed disdain, scowling down at Naushe's unmoving form. "May as well have decked you himself, riskin' your safety by bringin' you along."
Carrick eventually rose to his feet, narrowed eyes directed toward his father. "This isn't about him taking me t'the pits, this about your grudge against him and anythin' he stands for! He could a'taken me t'the park and y'still would a'done the same thing y'did now!"
Richard fell silent for a few moments, ultimately adverting his gaze and permitting his expression to soften. Meanwhile, Carrick struggled to stand, noting the creeping weakness that was building in his knees-- his stomach was in knots. After taking in a breath, Carrick continued:
"Pa."
His father lofted a brow and panned his stare back about, resting it upon Carrick once more.
"I love you," the boy proceeded to proclaim, "but you're a monster."
---
with help from @HereticTakao takin care of the carrick bits <3
i got impatient and wanted to post it, might make it less. short. at the end if i find the time. feels like there's more to discuss but... meHH end scENE.
After extinguishing the flame on each candle, he proceeded to scale the steps, leading him into the main floor of the shop. It was significantly warmer aboveground, where a hearty fire crackled in the fireplace across the open hall, so Naushe made certain to close the cellar door behind him in order to keep out the chill. As soon as he managed to do so, the double-doors at the parlor's front entrance flew open and an icy gust of wind surged through the fresh opening. He promptly snapped his gaze to the sudden burst of light that forced itself in from outside, which was somewhat obscured by two silhouettes.
Once his eyes adjusted to the change, Naushe immediately recognized the two figures: his brother-in-law, Richard, and his son, Carrick. Considering the events that unfurled just hours ago, the Kearney could feel the color drain from his cheeks.
"Oh, ehm… Richard. Carrick-- I didn't expect you back so soon, lad," Naushe called out while turning toward the two visitors fully. He rubbed his hands together out of instinct, due to the drop in temperature.
Richard was scowling, eyes like daggers. He narrowed them on his wife's brother, only to yank Carrick forward by his thin wrist and gesture to the moderately injured boy. "Y'want t'explain this??" Richard growled, teeth bared and face growing redder as moments escaped the trio. Carrick's large eyes were rimmed with unshed tears, but he still managed to mouth the word "sorry" through a split lip, in his uncle's direction.
Naushe's gaze lingered on his nephew for a brief time, before angling back upon Richard. Despite being rather nervous, he was more than aware of the size difference-- Richard nearly took up the entirety of the doorway. "Hey, hey-- easy. You're goin' t'bang him up even more, if y'keep on like that," Naushe retorted indignantly. After a hard swallow and a tensing of his jaw, the Kearney closed the gap between the two groups. When Naushe was about mid-way across the parlor, Richard dropped the grip on his son, barrelled forward, and sent a sturdy shove for Naushe's chest as he neared.
The thrust easily tossed the smaller, peg-legged man to the floorboards with a distinct thud. Naushe grimaced at the action, peering up at the offender with a scowl and his left hand raised to some degree. "Calm down--"
"Calm down?? This is the last feckin' straw, Kearney!" Richard interrupted, spitting venom with each syllable. He sent a sharp kick for Naushe's exposed side in the process. "Y'ain't t'be takin' Carrick with you t'pit fights! I've already told y'once!" Another kick connected with Naushe's rib cage, causing the graying redhead to curl up and wheeze as he clutched at his afflicted abdomen.
"Pa', stop!" Carrick cried out. The teen reached out to grip at his father's nearest arm and pull with all his might to attempt at breaking up the one-sided spat. "Please!"
Richard wasn't at all dissuaded, delivering a hefty boot to Naushe's exposed face, and because he was blinded with fury, Richard also sent a quick, impulsive shove in reverse; Carrick was caught by the elbow and his small body crashed harshly into the wall with an audible thump. He stayed back, fearful of what his father would do if he intercepted again, and helplessly watched on as the events unfurled before him.
Naushe, left eye obscured completely by the blood that cascaded from his browline, moved to rise; however, his balance was heavily compromised and made it nearly impossible for him to stand without the help of the wooden pillar behind him. If the circumstances were anything but violent, one would've assumed that Richard was aiding Naushe in rising, but this was not the case. Richard's meaty fingers curled about his opponent's shirt collar and he proceeded to heave up the dazed Naushe, eventually slamming the man's back against the beam from before.
From there, Richard barraged Naushe's face with a flurry of punches, cocking his fist back after each impact. His knuckles grew red and began to throb from the pain of pitting them against a somewhat solid surface, but it was Naushe that had it worse. The Kearney could do nothing but endure each strike until Richard grew tired; the large, brother-in-law did indeed grow weary, but not before dealing a considerable amount of damage.
Panting, Richard released Naushe and shook out his battered hand, peering down at his victim's collapsed body that was sprawled out across the parlor's floorboards. Naushe was also breathing in a labored fashion, sluggishly staring out at nothing with half-lidded eyes.
Carrick shoved off from the wall he was pressed against for the duration of the beating, immediately sliding to the ground aside Naushe. Tears welled up in the boy's emerald eyes, which were locked on his uncle's pair.
"I'm sorry…" he exhaled, hands quivering as his fingers knitted together in his lap.
It was not long before his eyes darted to his father, who was still towering over them. Anger sparked from within and he barked aloud, "I told you t'stop! Why can y'never listen?!"
Richard appeared to calm some, but maintained a stern facade. "Boy-- don't y'start yellin' at me. Bastard had it comin', I warned him plenty a'times t'keep you out a'harm's way!" His face twisted up into an expression that conveyed disdain, scowling down at Naushe's unmoving form. "May as well have decked you himself, riskin' your safety by bringin' you along."
Carrick eventually rose to his feet, narrowed eyes directed toward his father. "This isn't about him taking me t'the pits, this about your grudge against him and anythin' he stands for! He could a'taken me t'the park and y'still would a'done the same thing y'did now!"
Richard fell silent for a few moments, ultimately adverting his gaze and permitting his expression to soften. Meanwhile, Carrick struggled to stand, noting the creeping weakness that was building in his knees-- his stomach was in knots. After taking in a breath, Carrick continued:
"Pa."
His father lofted a brow and panned his stare back about, resting it upon Carrick once more.
"I love you," the boy proceeded to proclaim, "but you're a monster."
---
with help from @HereticTakao takin care of the carrick bits <3
i got impatient and wanted to post it, might make it less. short. at the end if i find the time. feels like there's more to discuss but... meHH end scENE.
