Mordecai. Ruthless hunter across a dozen or so planets. He'd snuffed out lives without a care in the world, had eliminated those who 'd come for the bounty on his head. He killed, he drank, he fucked, all without a care in the world. That was the only way he knew how to survive. Harden himself against the world, and everything life through at him would bounce back. He'd been proud of how impervious he'd become.
But then he'd had people depend on him, people he'd spent months then years with, watching his back in return for once. Months cramped into a single room filled with cots, helping the people of New Haven whenever they could. At first, they'd been big deals: eliminate nearby bandits, trips to ensuring Tannis' safety, et cetera. Then it became menial things, tasks Mordecai would have turned down in a heartbeat but surprisingly found himself doing. So what if Scooter needed more engine parts? Whether he got them or not was no skin off his back. Yet, he found himself giving a damn about these people and their tedious lives. This was their home, and they were just trying to get by in their day-to-day activities. He never wanted to admit that that was the kind of life he missed, settling down, having a home, possibly a…
"Hey!" The large man sitting across from him snapped his fingers in his face, pulling him back to the present.
Mordecai sneered and spun the large shotglass of whiskey between his fingers. Another stupid task had been laid before him, but no one had asked him to do this. It was a matter of principle… and making his friend happy.
"You thinkin' of backing out, shit head?" He rolled the empty shotglass away, licking away the dribble of hooch from his lip. The crowd of people that surrounded them were jeering and hollering at the sniper, any of them goading him on, while others were intimidating him to leave. All the while, a caged puppy barked in the background at all the excitement, and that only steeled Mordecai's resolve even further.
That pup was the reason he was here. A gift he'd stolen from one of the off-world transports, a gift he knew would bring a smile back to his best friend slash lover's face. Third time was the charm, right?
It hadn't even been a week before the pup had been stolen from under the Slab King's nose, a bribe taken by one of his own men in exchange for a hefty chunk of credits. Needless to say, Brick let him keep the cash… after he dropped him down a ravine.
"We're getting him back," Mordecai had assured him as he'd followed behind, not wanting to stand in the way of the berserker's temper. "Promise you that." Only he wasn't going to let Brick beat it out of these men. He'd been exiled on Roland's orders on the murder of one man, and it was in his memory that Mordecai had agreed to the bet now placed before him. A drinking content, of all things.
Of course, Brick had been adamant against it, had dragged the sniper outside to give him a stern talking to.
"If you do this, you're destroying everything good you've done." Steel-grey eyes had searched some sign of resignation behind those goggles, and Mordecai had smirked in return. It was just booze, but this pup meant more to them both than a year of headaches, hangovers, and throwing up in alleyways. it was a gift. A chance to start a makeshift…
"This is more important." He'd patted Brick's face roughly before heading back inside. This had been a more amicable choice of settling things rather than taking the dirty route, no matter how much the aged Vault Hunters wanted to. There would be other days, with men more deserving of such treatment.
"Oy!" A fist slammed down on the table; Mordecai had slipped off into daydreaming again.
"Jus' givin' you time t'consider takin' your cash 'n going home." He touched his shotglass to the empty one before downing it all. He suppressed a cough and gestured for a second, as did the man across from him. Almost a year being clean, and he was throwing it all away.
"You got a name picked out for that pup, Brick?" he called out to his friend, a smirk on his face as he drank his second shot.
"I was thinkin' Bruiser."
"Pup's already got a name. Shiela."
"What kinda fuckin' name is Shiela?!"
They both drank a third.
"Well, it's a girl, ain't it?"
"Brick…?"
"Bruiser's still a good name for a girl." He towered over Mordecai in encouragement, his arms crossed over his chest. Anyone would have taken his stern look as intimidation, but it was genuine, tight-lipped concern of his friend's sobriety.
"You heard th'big guy. Bruiser it is." Mordecai downed his seventh shot and stacked the empty glass on top of the other's. "Unless you wanna fight him for it." An empty threat, but it was enough to throw the guy off and reconsider his options; get punched in the face or go home with the worst hangover of his life… just as long as Mordecai could continue bluffing his way through the contest. Having the goggles hiding his state of inebriation definitely helped. He could only help his stomach wouldn't betray him before that pup was in Brick's arms again.