Now much happier in school because Tony has given up and completely backed down from him. Because the bully has instead turned his pent up rage on other students, who are of course much smaller and more easily intimidated by him. Murdoc gets back to concentrating on what he does best. Which is of course to be his lovable roguish self. Much to the continued annoyance of his teachers. His grades did very slightly improve however, and they were a little shocked by that. But as soon as that growth spurt happened it stopped again. Levelled out, and remained where it was. Average. Not a word Murdoc liked to hear really. Him average? Never. He was was brilliant, amazing. Not to mention a big hit with the girls. This turned out to be more than very true. After Tony, the girls did begin to take more of an interest in the boy. And he now seemed to be leaving a rather long string of devastated conquests behind him. Unlike the other boys, Murdoc didn't tend to brag very often about his extra curricular activities. Mostly because when he did say anything, they didn't believe him. But mostly because the girls were left wishing they hadn't had anything to do with him. And were often left too embarrassed to say anything about what had happened, or what Murdoc had encouraged them to do. This meant that no one in the school knew about it, and that left the boy free to move onto the next unsuspecting girl. And he didn't just limit himself to the girls at his school either. He would try to take on any girl he met. His charm and wit would more often than not win out in the end. And surprisingly for a sixteen year old boy, he had a pretty healthy sexual lifestyle.
Murdoc is sitting on the floor in Hannibal s room. Quietly listening to Dios 'We rock.' Album. His brother had called out to Jacob before he'd left, saying that he was planning to stay out all night. So that meant he would probably not be home till morning. So the boy believed he had the record player all to himself, and obviously he wouldn't need to keep an eye out the window for the return of his brother. He quietly mouths the lyrics to himself as he flips through one of Hannibal s many pornographic magazines. Unknown to Murdoc, Hannibal suddenly steps through the front door. He stops at the sitting room door and looks in for his dad. But quickly finds that Jacob isn't in there. So he shrugs and wanders down towards the kitchen. He sees the old man sitting at the table, drinking and reading the horse racing section from the newspaper. Hannibal opens his mouth to say something, when he suddenly hears music coming from upstairs. He tips his head slightly to his shoulder, listening. Thinking the sound was coming from up stairs, he slowly turns on his heel and heads back towards them. Stepping up onto the bottom step, the older boy grabs the railing and stops again to listen. Realizing it is most definitely coming from up stairs he grits his teeth and slowly makes his way up. Stopping before the creaky third step, Hannibal stops again and listens, turning his head back towards his room. 'Murdoc.' He hisses in his mind, as it becomes obvious to the older boy that the music is definitely coming from his room. He deliberately steps over the third step, so as not to alert the boy of the approaching danger. The enraged older boy storms across to his door, tearing it open and shouting with all his might.
"What the fuck do you think yer doin'?!" Murdoc jumps in shock leaping away from his brother, and dropping backwards onto his hands. He frantically begins to crab walk backwards towards the window, slamming himself against the wall. Hannibal steps into the room, his body almost seems to fill the doorway completely, so Murdoc looks around the rest of the room desperately. Hoping to find another way to escape. But there's no where to run or hide and he knows it. The older boy walks over to the record player and slams off the machine. He stops the record and looks at the title, snapping an angry look back at his brother. Murdoc reaches out a hand in defence as Hannibal storms over to him, grabbing him by the shirt and bodily lifting him from the floor. Murdoc tries to stammer an apology, but Hannibal is not listening. He barely gets a sound out, before the furious older boys fist connects sharply with Murdoc s already broken nose. The boys head snaps back, blood exploding from his face. But Hannibal is not satisfied yet. And bringing his fist back again, he smashes it back into Murdocs nose, before lastly bringing his fist round, connecting viciously with the boys jaw. He drags the dazed boy back to the door and tosses him out, screaming a long string of abuse. Murdoc lands heavily on his stomach, his vision a smudged blur and his ears ringing loudly. His mouth fills with the strange metallic taste of blood, as it runs down the back of his tongue and into his throat.
"And take this shit with you!" Hannibal roars, tossing the record and sleeve at him. The album sails through the air hitting Murdoc in the back of the head. "Stay the fuck out of my room ya scrotum!" The dazed and battered boy slowly gets to his knees, trying to blink his vision clear. Holding his shattered nose in one hand, while sliding the record from behind him with the other. He slowly raises his head and looks down the small passage. Just ahead and closer to the open door of his room, Murdoc can see the album cover lying on the floor. He blinks slowly again, and tries to swallow back the sharp taste of blood in his mouth. It makes his stomach churn, and for a moment he thinks he's going to throw up. His head falls back on his shoulders as his muscles relax involuntarily. His eyes rolling back showing only the whites of them. He snaps it upright again, as pain shoots through from his shattered nose into the back of his eyes and down into his jaw. He moans and picks up the record, struggling to his feet and swaying unsteadily. As the room seems to dip and dive left and right, like the unsteady rocking of a boat on the waves. It seems to make his pain even worse and he grits his teeth trying to push it back, as blood pours from his nose and down his chin. He allows his weight to make him fall sideways against the wall, as the room dips heavily again causing his legs to begin to shake. Using it to keep himself upright as he stops for a moment, to allow a wave of nausea to pass over him, his stomach muscles tighten and threaten to push the sickness from his body. He takes a deep breath and holds it. Closing his eyes and refusing to allow himself to throw up. Slowly the sensation dies away again, and feeling a little better, he continues to slide his way along the wall. Heading for his room with the blood still pumping from his shattered nose, he barely notices the blood running down his chin and dripping onto the floor. He's far too concerned about getting out of the passage and away from his brother. The room continues to sway back and forth, as the dazzles of light, playing at the corners of his eyes, seem to be making the room darken and brighten again with sickening regularity. The pain throbs in his face, as his ears continue to ring loudly. The sounds in the room around him seem muffled, in comparison to the sound of his abnormally loud breathing. He finally makes it to the album cover, and carefully slides his body down the wall to retrieve it. The pressure in his head starts to build with his movement down the wall, making his nose and face pound even more with pain. He lifts his head back, which seems to make it a little better, and blindly feels around the floor for the cover. Finding it he picks it up and blindly tosses it into the room, for now not caring how or where it lands. He shuts his eyes again and pushes back the pain, sliding back up the wall and continuing on into the room. He takes his hand from his nose for a moment to grip the door handle and move away from the wall, catching sight of his blood. He retches a little and staggers across to the bed allowing himself to fall towards the chest at the end of it, reaching out his hand to stop himself continuing on to the floor. He drops the album onto the chest and slides around to the bed itself, feeling the darkness closing in around him. His eye lids flicker as he falls heavily forwards, finally crashing down face first onto the bed. The room becomes dark and the heavy shroud of unconsciousness finally and almost mercifully overtakes him.
Murdoc wakes the next morning, his pillow and face caked in dried blood. He winces as he peels his face from the material, and drags himself to his feet. His nose had stopped hurting much more now. But his face still felt swollen and his eyes hurt. Slowly he walks to the bathroom and closes the door behind him, making his way over to the sink to clean up. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and for a moment is horrified by what he sees and almost cries out angrily in shock. 'What the fuck has he done to me!?' He thinks biting his lip and not wanting to see himself any more, he lowers his eyes and looks down into the sink. He wonders if perhaps it's just the sight of the blood that is making it look so bad and putting in the plug and filling the sink with warm water, he slowly and carefully begins to washes his face arms and neck. Given he's come this far Murdoc then peels off his shirt dropping it to the floor and starts cleaning the blood from his chest. Finishing up he takes a deep breath and takes one more look in the mirror and finds he's no longer shocked by what he sees. It was all the blood that was truly shocking after all. Deciding it doesn't look that bad after all, and if anything it actually makes him look more masculine, he smiles and gives himself a cheeky wink. Then pulling the plug, draining the bloody water away, he wanders over to the toilet for a slash. Once finished in the bathroom, the boy wanders back to his room and straight over to the corner where he throws his dirty clothes. He searches through them till he finds a shirt that takes his fancy. He chooses a nice blue one, then heads back to the door with it still in his hand. As Murdoc steps from his room and turns to pull the door closed, he catches sight of the still fuming Hannibal heading in his direction. The older boy snarls at him as Murdoc shuts the door, and together they both move over to the top of the stairs.
"If I ever catch you in my room again, I swear you little fuck. I'll kill you!" Hannibal snarls, pushing his brother aside and against the wall, as he slams his way past him making his way down the stairs. Murdoc sighs and pulls on his shirt, moving the material carefully over his broken nose and still aching jaw. He looks down at the shirt, and gives it a quick sniff. Thinking about it for a moment, he shrugs to himself and shakes his head, not really caring about whether or not it smells. He carries on down the stairs, following after his brother. Although he is disappointed about being caught, Murdoc did expect it would happen eventually, and didn't feel he should complain much about it. Given he knew he had honestly pushed it too far and worse still, had dropped his guard. Not something he normally would of done. Except he'd allowed himself to become far too complacent about the whole thing. Still, he hadn't expected he would get a broken nose over it. He decides that this was a lesson that should never be forgotten, and is almost glad that Hannibal had given him the visual reminder, to never allow himself to become that complacent again. He looks up and watches his brother jump over the railing at the bottom of the stairs, then turns the corner heading in the direction of the kitchen.
"Yeah, yeah. I hear you." Murdoc replies gruffly, as he quickly follows his brother into the kitchen. He might of been grateful for Hannibal s lesson in complacency, but he wasn't not going to be annoyed about it. Hannibal walks through the room and past his father, who is sitting at the table with a large plate of bacon, eggs and toast. Dropping heavily down into his favourite chair in the corner. He stares angrily at the boy as his brother steps further into the room. Murdoc begins to wonder how long Hannibal is going to stay mad about this, and stares back at him, from under his long fringe. But Hannibal is no where near finished as far as he is concerned, and wonders if he can get his father on side about it. Jacob takes a large forkful of bacon and shoves it into his mouth, chewing loudly as he wipes bacon grease from his lips with the back of his hand. Unconcerned at his boys squabbling, he doesn't feel the need to interrupt his breakfast to even acknowledge their presence in the room. Without even a small look or grunt, he continues to munch loudly, turning the page on the magazine he is reading. It doesn't stop Hannibal from making the attempt though.
"Playin' that shit on my stuff. Why doncha listen to some decent music? Poofy shit?" Hannibal growls, folding his arms over his chest and angrily staring out the window into the back yard. He turns his eyes quickly in Jacobs direction, hoping to see if the old man would take up the cause and punish his little brother for touching his stuff. That would really put the boy in his place. He knew his dad had strict rules about touching his possessions. Maybe it would translate over to Hannibal s as well? After all, he was the eldest, and he had been paying rent longer than Murdoc. Surely that would mean he had to have some privileges by now? Jacob suddenly stops chewing and looks up. Hannibal s confidence grows as he watches the old man turn and look in his little brothers direction. 'Yes! Gottcha.' The older boy thinks, shooting a smug look at Murdoc as well. His confidence swells inside him, and he's sure he's about to win this round. But Jacob doesn't say anything. Instead he continues his gaze from Murdoc, across the room, and back over to Hannibal in his little corner. The old man slits his eyes and looks the older boy up and down, almost in disgust. Hannibal suddenly gets that sinking feeling and his smug look falls away.
"Poofy shit? You think you can say that to him, when ya come home with ya hair lookin' the way it does. Yer more of a pansy than he is. You great grumblin' queer!" Jacob snarls at Hannibal, before shaking his head and looking back down to his breakfast. The old man takes another forkful of food and shovels it into his mouth. Murdoc stifles a laugh by coughing into his hand, and sits down beside the old man. For a moment Jacob snaps a look towards him, but then quietly shrugs and settles down again, grabbing a slice of toast and handing it to the boy. Hannibal looks from one to the other with shock. Jacob not only had taken Murdoc s side, he even let him sit down next to him. 'And is feeding him!?' That was almost completely unexpected, and sadly it answered him about privileges. Once again it seemed that Murdoc had won his fathers favor. Hannibal has become increasingly tired with how easily it seems Murdoc is able to do that. It's almost as if the boy has some kind of control over the old man. Murdoc this, and Murdoc that. He did more for the old man than his brother. Why wasn't Jacob ever proud of him? He clenches his jaw and makes one last attempt to grab at his fathers attention.
"I ain' a poof! He is!" The older boy protests, pointing at his brother. Jacob laughs at him and puts down his fork. He points at his packet of cigarettes and waits, as Murdoc reaches out and lights one up for the old man. Handing it back to him, he settles back in his chair and sneers over at his brother. Jacob is really just not interested in the boys squabbles. And Hannibal it seems, is failing to understand that. As far as he was concerned, so long as it wasn't his things that were involved, they could argue all they liked. The only thing that interested him about them, was when they were going to give him money. He puffs on his cigarette and looks at the boy in the corner, who is angrily glaring at the boy at his side. Hannibal was now a skin head. Bald and covered from head to foot in Nazi regalia. Did he really want to have that in his house? He shrugs and decides that so long as he got paid, he didn't care.
"Rubbish! Murdoc is ten times the man you are. Ya prissy little pansy. I don' see him comin' home his hair all.... Only women do that queer shit to their hair all the time. Anyone would think ya don' 'ave balls. You do 'ave balls doncha?" Jacob hisses back. Murdoc clenches his jaw hard, trying desperately not to burst out laughing. Hannibal gets up and slams his way out of the kitchen and house, not wanting to listen to any more of the old mans insults. Jacob watches him go before turning back to Murdoc and sighing. "I guess we can take that as a no then hey?" he smiles. Hannibal s lack of response to his question, making him feel glad the boy had handed him the opportunity to add that last final insult. Murdoc shrugs and watches for a cue from his dad. Knowing that if he laughed at the wrong moment or at all, and Jacob was not in a playful enough mood, he was going to get a smack in the head. He already had a headache, so he waits for the old mans reaction. He catches the gleam in his fathers eye, and can see that this time it was OK to laugh at Hannibal s expense, as it slowly becomes obvious that Jacob is certainly about to. The boy lets out a small chuckle, as Jacob slowly does the same. Murdoc wriggles a little in his seat and decides to try and make the mood a little lighter. He had made his dad laugh loudly a few times before, and wonders if this was a moment he could do that again? He leans forwards and gently nudges the old mans arm.
"Maybe that was the price he paid fer that last Haircut?" Murdoc jokes, and carefully watches Jacob. The old man takes a swig from his beer and gives him an odd look, furrowing his brow and slightly tipping his head to his chest, not quite sure of the suggestion the boy was making. "Well, the haircut before then must'a cost an arm and a leg...?" Murdoc tentatively presses the point the same way you would check the ice on a pond, before attempting to walk across. Jacob catches Murdoc s point, and almost sprays him with beer as he bursts out laughing. Murdoc breathes out a sigh of relief and joins him. It's good when he and the old man see eye to eye. He just wishes it would happened much more often.