My starting neighborhood wasn't a pleasant rose smelling one. There were no flower bushes glittering the streets. Hell, well there had been Rose. I could laugh at the ironic name, she'd been a working chick, a junkie actually if the dazed expression always resting on her was any indication. A nice woman however, good to the passing kids hoping for a chance, well, I couldn't say if it was kindness or just want for sex. Most of the guys 'round my block had lost their v- with her -for free. I'd known her only boyfriend well enough to be on a first name basis with the guy, he, like her, had been a civilian, livin' 'round a bunch of darken'd wizards out of nowhere else to be.
I'd been sixteen.
I expected to get back to silence, as was usual, Dad being gone with the guild for the day, and I had been roamin' 'round trashing shit in next town over.
Uprooting their crappy business out of nothing left to do for the day, ignoring the bitterness of resentment clouding my judgment, personal vendettas' didn't matter here unless you wanted to do something extreme. My experience was blowing buildings, but that's as far I could bring myself to do, even then it was usually Pops putting some kind of pressure on me to actually do something about my anger.
To him it was restrained.
Opening the cracked door and seeing my father eating slowly some fast-food had made me nearly punch the guy. Glad for my own caution, considering I could've found myself knocked fast on my ass for that one. Pops gave me a look, distained, yet uninterested in what had been going on, focusing on having his drink and eating. That didn't matter to me, I expected nothing from the guy, knowing him as long as I have, and having him ignore me was not a surprise. I stole his fries instead, because he always let me, and it happened to be from one of my favourite places.
Even still, without him saying anything, I knew he wanted something from me, I practically raised myself, in this city, that ment dirt poor and with thugs about to shove you on the wall and take all you had. Or just people who got a boner from free flowin' blood. Raising myself here meant I knew when someone wanted something, hookers and junkies, thugs and fathers, most the time it was easier just to do what they wanted and not get wild about it. Whatever it took to keep alive, as it were.
He fixed me a stare, finishing off his burger with a swipe of a greased napkin to his beard, it did nothing but leave a smear.
"Laxsinian," I hated that name, I scowled at its use, and he pretended not to get irritated at my insubordination. Fucker.
"Eat'a dick." He didn't pause, only rollin' the same eyes I got. and making a gesture with his hand indicating for me to shut up. It was a familiar enough routine that at this point he didn't even bother to try and fix my attitude as he used to.
"Watch it boy. I got a job for you." That grasped my attention fast, it was rare. Most of the time he didn't give a shit what I did. Lettin' me blow up what I wanted, fuck around with a random ass chick. Even walkin' in once when I was high outta my mind on coke, and smoking a joint on the couch. No shits given. He only gave me jobs rarely, and when he did I was expected to fulfill them with no questions asked.
As he said: "You're a wizard for a reason boy, not just to explode buildings, so put your magic to some fucking use." Making an obvious statement to my intelligence as he was so fond of doing.
So, when Pops said he had a job, it was often guild related, and mandatory.
"You know the whore who lives next door, and that pussy boyfriend of hers." It wasn't a question, but I raised my brow at it nonetheless, I couldn't see how she would fit into anything.
"Rose and Mak, ya. So?" The tightened grip on his whiskey made me think I'd ticked him off by interrupting, which was odd, as his patience was usually better, maybe he was more drunk then I thought.
"That little shit has been selling information to the Rune Knights. So, I need to deal with it. Consider it your testing. Kill the little wimp, and you'll be in the guild officially." I had the sudden urge to punch the guy, anger aprupt and borne from shock.
I didn't, Pops just stood and walked out.
"Get it done." I was still sittin' after an hour of being left to myself. Roused only by a pounding on the door, before the drool worthy form of Rose stumbled in, a giggle escaping her, as her redshot green eyes took me in with a dazed expression. Clearly something was on her mind, this, normally I wouldn't mind. But the situation had my head wheelin', and noticing this she passed me a fresh, fat, point. Normality would've had me fighting the implication, but I just kept thinking about Mak, and I took it and puffed before I even registered what I was doing.
I'd done plenty for my Father before. Some really shaddy crap, some things I could never tell myself were real for sanity's sake. Nothing pride worthy, he'd never asked for anything simple, and this took the cake.
Now, here sat Rose, oblivious, with her sweet perfume of lilacs and lavender, her make-up smeared over her face so thick I would never be able to recognize her without it. The thought of what I had to do was toxic, and she didn't know anything. Her dress was a top at best, not really covering much, and wrapped so tight around her feminine curves nothing was left to imagine. Blonde hair spun down her back like goldilocks, legs for years.
I wanted to get high, I wanted to get laid. But the thought of Rose, tight dress or not, only had me half there. Mak, sprung to mind, all dirty grins and lazy gestures, how he kissed her with a passion. I knew she loved him, I knew that she was a slut, I told myself that offing him wasn't to bad. That didn't help anything.
I shoved my headphones up and blasted some crap rap popular 'round the block.
It was days later when I felt resolved. No doubts clouded me from the start, I had no choice in what would happen, Pops wouldn't stand for me failing him, he'd beat me to shit and I knew that. Pissed off as an understatement to his mood should I fail. However, my mind rested on the fact that I'd known Mak for several years, and he was a friend since I was fourteen, helped me figure shit out, how to live at thirteen when I could barely walk the street without getting mugged.
Coincidence or not, a few days after Dad had told me what I needed to do, I ended up overhearing a conversation. A typical drug trade going on, with the dealer and a regular, who ended up being Mak as I recognized. I wasn't particularly fazed by this, I usually got my weed second hand from him anyhow.
"Man, I tell ya, I never heard a slut be so bitchy about gettin' fucked." Said the dealer, some shitbag I reasoned, plenty of them in this town.
"Huh? Yo, man don't be such a puss, just slap the bitch, lemme tell ya; works a charm, they shut up so fuckin' fast. Then they stop fightin' later on too." I felt my jaw unlock and a growl slip past as Mak gave a candid response, no regret flashing across his face, where a laugh rested firm in his eyes.
"Rose give you shit?"
"Used ta,' had a fuckin' mouth on her to. Cunt learned fast though." They laughed like it was fucking funny, shakin' hands and talkin' about gettin' together for a beer later. I almost shouted out about how they were dead wrong, and that one of 'em wouldn't be getting to do anything soon. No caution fed my mind, no disparaging regret or shitfaced conscious staring me down as I tackled the guy I'd considered a friend to the ground. Pounding his fuckin' face in with my fists as the dealer left, none the wiser.
He wasn't a weak guy though, and threw me off without much issue after regaining himself. Blood drippin' into his eye from a split brow, and down his chin from his lip. Sick satisfaction hit me full force. Being pragmatic wasn't my strongest asset, he was at least five-ten, and I had yet to hit a growth spurt still only around five-five. Height didn't matter though.
This bitch beat on my friend. His girl. My friend.
"Laxus?"
"Piece of shit!" I wasn't giving him an opportunity to get over his confusion, and smashed my fist in his face again. Gripping for my pocket knife, the idea of killin' him with the techniques he taught me was extremely appealing. He got a solid hit in, making me rench from hitting my gut so exactly.
I'd never been so pissed. I took the knife I had, no longer giving a shit as I popped it in his eye, electrified.
"-it's stupid is all I'm saying, I'm practically healed. My leg doesn't even hurt that much, see?" Natsu's grumbling, uneven pitch snapped me out of memory. Something unconsciously brought back to the forefront of my mind. It was a dark want clouding my thoughts, and I'd been trying to ignore it for the past two weeks now, luckily hiding the distraction enough that Natsu hadn't noticed. Clearly, as he'd been talking for several moments I realize. Somehow, without noticing I'd tuned him out for a bit. Now twisting his injured leg back and forward careful not to be too ambitious in his movements. Attempting to convince me that he was fighting fit, at least, I think that's what he's doing.
The fact that Porlyusica had said he'd have a permanent limp, gave me doubts. Along with some less then kind thoughts. Apparently his tendons would never fully heal, and it'd resulted in internal scarring. So now, he had to limp everywhere, it wasn't bad enough to stop him from working, but he couldn't sprint, run maybe, but high speed racing was out.
He'd taken it oddly. I hadn't really expected much else. But he seemed both resigned to the fact and angry about it at the same time. Mixed into a lethal concoction, making him want to prove everything. He could still climb a tree, still run -that one didn't really work-, still ride me -that I didn't mind so much, still torch a tree with fire.
Sex had actually been pretty rough lately, just as he tried to prove it could be. Unfortunately for me, he refused to believe that his leg got sore easily, and I had to try and slow things down before he made it worse. Acting as supervisor to his crazy stunts. Luckily nothing to Natsu-like had occurred. But the daunting possibility haunted me every hour. When he'd choose to jump off of the Fairy Tail hall while of fire eating a bowl of chili had me hovering a little. -that possibility was sadly a very real one.-
It was only through my own daunting insistence that he hadn't taken a job yet. Straying from the guild hall as it happened, I put it down to uncertainty and not wanting to deal with his guildmates, but that reasoning would only work for so long before both of us would have to admit he was being a coward.
Maybe it was the years runnin' about in a crap town, maybe it was my own history as a teen wanting to get high and fuckin' anything with a cute face, but I really couldn't stop the instinctive want to just get Natsu stoned so he would stop being a fuckin prideful idiot. That, I could recognize as the stupidest idea I've had in years. Knowing him it'd have the opposite effect, and I didn't want to deal with whatever that entailed.
Maybe maryjane, if I felt it necessary, but nothing hardcore. Never.
Earlier this morning, he said he wanted to go to the Guild, the idea of him taking a job near made me piss myself, but he was almost a mindreader of mine and knew that I was strong against it. Starting with a pout that it wasn't in the cards. Just that he wanted to see his friends, reflected in a bright smile, and I had to refrain from being a dick and taggin' on a; 'ya, all three of 'em.' figuring it'd just earn me a night on the floor or a pissy Natsu for the rest of the day. Neither of which were pleasant thoughts.
Gildarts had ended up crossing my mind while we were walking out the house, the consideration, not for the first time crossing that I could gank him, and none would be the wiser, if I wanted. Natsu's praise of the guy the only thing stopping me from diggin' as to where the guy lived.
I ended up contacting Rose to get my hands on my hidden stash, and rolling out two joints in the middle of the night. I hadn't been scolded out for it, but I knew Natsu had been pretty angry about how I handled his injuries, also not thrilled at the fact that Happy had been in the house, and that type of smoke was real bad for the feline. I promised not to do it in the house again. I'd gotten a ticked off look and a kiss to the cheek which had only confused me at the time.
I started back up smoking periodically, Natsu wasn't glad for it, but I figured he was just satisfied I hadn't tried to punch Fairy Tail's ace. I think, still, that he worries for me picking a fight with the guy, brash or not, I'm not that stupid. The incident at the Hall had been a testosterone filled bitch fight, something that only two guys with experience in bad neighborhoods could get fully. Mainly a reconation, mutual hatred thing, nothing more serious then that.
Now, my grudge was a lil' bit more personal.
I had a cold anger when I wanted to. Natsu wasn't aware of that fact, nor was anyone else, which is what I was relying on.
Ivan'd said once that I was 'real fuckin strange, son' because I liked to get buzzed while truly angry. In truth, it helped me center myself, and think better on how to deal with the problem. Any red hot rage burnt away and I could fake being unfazed by crap easier. Most of the time I was stoic as it was, so it was convincing. Most assassination jobs I'd done, I'd done high. Better focused, less irrationally raging.
Even Natsu bought it, mostly at least. He at least knew that I now had a grudge, but he didn't know the extent or that I'd thought of offing the guy more then once. If he had, I think he would be a little more cautious bringing me to the hall
It was clear to me what most of FT thought of me. A fag, weak, and a traitor, I couldn't care less. They could think that about me and I would never give a damn, it was how they treated Natsu that ticked my nerves. That aside of course, I am a former dark wizard with one hell of a rep, and I wasn't a flowery nice guy, no matter what they thought with their crap stereotypes.
He'd hurt Natsu. This fuckin' guild had hurt him. I didn't see any reason to be nice anymore.
Not unless Natsu asked.
