Drinking Buddies
Tyrian sauntered over to the bar. "So, you're still alive."
Qrow glanced over his shoulder, eyes following the man as he moved to sit next to him. "Guess that makes two of us."
"Heh." Tyrian motioned for the bartender and ordered a drink.
"I thought you ran off and wouldn't be back."
"Well, that was the plan, honestly. But when a man needs to drink his pain away, what better way to do it than beside his enemy?" A shotglass was placed in front of him, and Tyrian downed it in one gulp. "More, please."
"Sounds like you had a tough time, thinking I'm the only one who can help you."
Tyrian downed his second glass. "Not here for help, I just heard you're the best drinking buddy among all huntsmen."
"I don't know about the 'best buddy' part, but drinking is one thing I'm good at." Qrow mused. "It's been a while since I last saw you, did you go home and then back here?"
"Yes. I went back to milady, but she was disappointed in me." Tears started to spill from Tyrian's eyes, and Qrow hesitated a moment before carefully placing a hand on the other man's shoulder. "When she heard from Watts you were still alive she got really angry with me." It was becoming harder for Qrow to distinguish his words from his sobs. "She told me I was useless! If I am of no use to her, what am I still living for?" When his words had left his mouth, Tyrian leaned into Qrow's shoulder and cried his heart out.
Qrow shot a helpless glance at the bartender, then gently patted Tyrian on the back. "There, there." Several minutes and a few scared off would-be-costumers later, Tyrian calmed down and pulled back. Qrow gave him a moment to recollect himself and dry his tears, before asking something that had been on his mind for a while. "Say, if you don't mind me asking, why did you join Salem?"
Tyrian downed another shot before answering. "Well, I had been on my own for a while, and by the time I neared my twenties I had quite the reputation in the area where I lived. Everyone tried to stay away from me, and those who didn't tried to kill me. But then she came. She looked like nothing I had ever seen before, and most importantly, she wasn't afraid of me." Tyrian's voice was increasingly filled with wonder. "In fact, she accepted me. She offered me a home and a purpose. All I had to do was complete a task once in a while. When I was successful she'd praise me and give me an extra to my allowance. She even defended me when Watts tried to pick on me. Well, Watts was the lucky one there, I would've done worse than scold him." Tyrian giggled and took a sip from his drink.
Qrow had no words. What he saw before him was not a man, but a child desperate for a mother. Desperate for a shimmer of love. And the course his life had taken before he met Salem had somehow turned him into a dangerous and unpredictable man with a taste for violence. Still, he had seemed rather playful during their fight. There as a chance, a small chance, but still a chance, that Tyrian would not be half as dangerous without Salem's influence. "Say Tyrian," he started, "Have you ever played catch?"
"…No?" Tyrian replied confused.
"Would you like to play catch with me tomorrow?"
"Um… that wouldn't hurt, I guess." Tyrian mumbled.
"Alright then." Qrow stood. "I'll see you tomorrow then." He swallowed the remains of his whiskey and patted Tyrian's head. "I'll see you tomorrow, kid."
Tyrian watched him leave the pub, confused as to what just happened, but at the same time, he felt odly at peace. "Yeah. Tomorrow."
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