Regrets? (Trigger Warning: possible mentions of Self-Harm)

[brother_alone]

Some days are better than others.

Some days are lucid and Josh knows where he is, when he is, who he is. Others like today? Not so much.

The resident Nexus hobo looks like he got into a fight or several, beat up and bloody as he sits on one of the Nexus benches all but ignoring his bloody nose and bruised up face. His knuckles are bloody too, dripping onto the snow as the cuts periodically are ripped open by the man's lack of care for his current state.

Despite his looks his smile is wide. Too wide. As are his eyes.

"It's important to be honest with yourself yeah? Do something. Even if it ain't pretty. Isn't it better to take action than to sit by and do nothing?"

Comments

[twelve_not_fourteen]

It's hard to say what draws the Corellian space pirate to a formerly well off and currently messed up Earther kid, but it's not as if Han tries to quantify it all that much. He met the kid and liked him. That's good enough for him. Moreover, he gets the sense that the kid shoots straight with him and that is worth a lot to Captain Solo - who frequently had to deal with liars and chakaar's of all kinds back home.

So Han has kept an eye on the kid ever since. Not a close eye. He's not qualified to solve the kids problem's and frankly, he's not sure that he could, but let's just say that tabs were kept.

The blood he sees first and he winces at the sight of the crimson on white. Hell. 'Did someone beat the kid up,' he asks himself as he approaches cautiously. Instinct has his hand drifting towards his thigh holster despite the fact that he has no intention to shoot anything. It's just a reaction to danger and he's sensing it now.

Han observes Josh's eyes too wide and immediately makes the connection to Anjia from his galaxy, though, he's never heard of it being here. The questions sound like jibberish to him so he ignores them.

"Hey kid," Han persists to calling him that despite the fact that he's not all that much older then John. "What happened to you?"

[brother_alone]

"Han! Han Solo. Han fuckin' Solo hey bro, how goes it?"

Josh rocks back, twisting around on the bench so he can give a split lipped grin to the smuggler. He really does look like he tried to beat a Wookie at chess right now. He looks down at himself as though just now realizing his current state and then shrugs.

"You tell people th'truth and sometimes they get pissed off. Tell you to shut up. To back off. Or they wind up an' hit ya. I've had worse." At least no one's stabbed him yet today.

[twelve_not_fourteen]

The other thing that tends to endear Han to Josh is the way he treats him like he's some kind of celebrity. Why? He doesn't know, but it certainly does boost the guy's ego. Though, he's not sure he'll ever get used to being called 'bro'.

"Mind if I sit?" He says, pointing at the bench.

[brother_alone]

"Sheee-iit fuck no I don't mind." Josh scoots over and spits some blood out into the snow next to him now that he's on the edge of the bench.

"Here I thought you'd fucked off to go rescue space babes and kick fuckin' ass."

[twelve_not_fourteen]

... what the kryff is that, Josh? Rescue babes? Kick ass? That's not something he's done much of, yet more jibberish, isn't it? He's mostly just robbing other thieves and trying not to get killed. With mixed success. He's certainly gotten his ass handed to him more than a couple of times.

"That's my weekend hobby." He murmurs, looking over his bruises and into his eyes for a moment. He's trying to tell how many hours old the wounds are. You can tell some degree of that based on the colors of the bruises and how scabbed over the cuts are.

[rogueinladysclothing]

The Nexus' resident rogue raises an eyebrow at the battered hobo as she approaches, dressed all in black and her full armory hanging from her belt.

"Looks like you already did something about it, whatever 'it' may be."

Amelia can't tell if he did this to himself like someone else she used to know who was good at beating himself up over things or if someone did this to him. She offers him a clean cloth from one of her pouches to at least clean himself up a little, though she stays light on her feet as she gets close enough to hand it to him. Something doesn't seem quite right...

"Sometimes you need to let things happen before you do something about it, though. A little planning can go a long way - and keep you from getting hurt."

[brother_alone]

"Well, He-llo." Josh rolls his head her way, smile widening at the rogue as he accepts the cloth and uses it to dab at his split lip as though that's the only problem he has right now. "You're the thief. I remember you."

Whether she's real or not he isn't questioning. He doesn't rightly know or care right now.

"Some people can't handle th'truth is all."

[rogueinladysclothing]

...something's very not right here.

"Rogue," she corrects. She may steal things, but that's not all she does. Though perhaps now isn't the best time to remind him of that...

"Many people don't like the truth, but that doesn't mean you should force it on them." Beat. "Given the state of your face, I'm going to guess that's what happened?"

[brother_alone]

"Ain't in my nature to sugar coat things." Josh says, his grin lopsided and still too wide. Isn't it hurting his face? "Not my fault most folks are pathetic and in denial."

His eyebrows are raising as he looks her up and down.

"You hunting down someone or what? Holy hell."

[rogueinladysclothing]

That smile is... unsettling. "Rubbing their faces in the truth isn't going to help, either." Is he not listening? Or is all of this going in one ear and out the other?

She raises an eyebrow at him and takes a slightly more defensive stance, her feet shifting slowly and subtly as she speaks to keep his attention. "Not today. But if need be, I can."

[pathfromdarknesstogrey]

A smile too wide, and eyes too wide. Dia certainly has an eye for detail, as noticing such cues are important, particularly in her former life of dealing with other Sith. More than a few of them shared a similar expression and usually had to be... handled a certain way.

In the same way one typically handles a fragile glass vial full of nitroglycerin. Very carefully, and with the distinct possibility that the slightest twitch could blow off half your face. And that's if you were lucky.

Such cues were also important as an assassin. It helped read one's opponent, too.

"I typically prefer to take action rather than sit around waiting. I don't do well with that sort of thing, even if I've gotten better about it as I've gotten older." Her eyebrows furrow as her weight shifts, hand on one hip, the other hanging relaxed.

"Are you alright, Josh? You look like you got into a fistfight," and not necessarily one that he won, is the implication. There's also how off he looks, but she's not going to point that out directly.

Dia also makes no move to assist him just yet. Staying out of arm's reach for the moment while she gauges his response.

[brother_alone]

"Oh hey Dia." Josh gives a small wave, all happy smiles despite the fact that it only serves to further worsen the split lip he's got. "This is nothing. I got off lucky. Got attacked down by where I'm staying."

His wounds don't add up. There's older ones, scratches down his scalp and face, on the back of his hands that look older than the bruising and fresh cuts. And blood underneath his fingernails. Has he done some of this to himself?

"Considering my insides could be my outsides right now, I'd consider today a win for me."

[pathfromdarknesstogrey]

"Who or what in the world attacked you and left you in this shape?" Seeing that he's not turning immediately hostile, Dia reaches into her coat to toss him a cloth so he can clean off some of the blood. Her eyes flick to the various wounds, noting them and the fact that they looked older.

"Because you look like you've been through the bloody wringer."

[brother_alone]

"Pig things. Gory sonnuvabitches." Hallucinations. Josh has no idea who attacked him, but they probably did so in self defense if Josh was screaming at them like they were monsters.

"Then again, I've been wrong before." Josh shrugs but accepts the cloth to start cleaning himself up. He's at least not so off the deep end that he thinks all of them are monsters at the moment. Small miracles.

sith slowpoke.jpg

[pathfromdarknesstogrey]

Given some of the things she's done in her life, one could still make an argument that Dia herself was a bit of a monster. Albeit one attempting to reform, or at least find a better place in life than simply being a monster.

Still, it's not a claim she'd necessarily refute, at any rate. "And the older injuries?" Yes, she's going to bring that up, and yes, she totally sees them.

a derp grammar. excuse the edits

[mayfairmonster]

Blood and injuries don't phase Dorian anymore. He's seen and committed too much violence over the span of his long life for it to strike the same chords of fear and revulsion it used to. So when he diverts his path towards Josh, it's less out of overt care and more because he can't look at this young man (who looks a little too happy about his predicament, putting Dorian in mind of the vivid emotionality of addiction or madness, both things he knows well) let alone properly hear what he's saying, without being twigged by an ancient Victorian need to help this man put himself back together.

"You've got blood on your face," he offers dryly, beneath a quirked eyebrow.

And is he stopping to fish a handkerchief out of his coat to help a bloodied stranger looking like some dumb puppy ignoring its injuries in the snow? Yes, that's a thing. What the heck, kid. Dorian offers the handkerchief over. "Here: Hold this under your nose and lean forward. It'll help stop the bleeding."

[brother_alone]

Some of the wounds are older than others if he's looking closely. Josh merely snorts at the comment, sending a bit of blood shooting out of his nose and onto his pants.

"Aw. Fuck." Then back up at the stranger. "That kinda happens when you get the shit kicked out of you~" And he laughs again, shaking his head. "But that's what happens when you take action. You put yourself out there, at risk. That's what living's about."

Josh no one wants to hear the ramblings of a crazy person in the midst of a psychotic episode. Hopefully the other people aren't tied up in a shack with a saw trained on them again or something. Not that he'd really hurt anyone. Just scare the fuck out of them.

"Oh, thanks guy." Josh calms down a bit at the offered handkerchief, especially when he feels Dorian's hand as he takes it. Touch. Real. This is Real. "Gonna get it all gross though, sorry."

[mayfairmonster]

God damn it, kid. Yeah, Dorian thinks he may have drugs on his hands, here. Not that he's one to judge. (If you ever want someone capable of empathizing with your bad trip.) But it's also not like he can exactly leave, now. He's already involved himself.

"Consider it yours. Lean forward," he instructs patiently, as he drops gracefully to sit on Josh's left. As he speaks, his voice is smooth and rich. Calming, if the sound of a voice and soothing tone alone is enough to scratch the surface of psychosis. "How do the others look? Worse than you, I hope?"

A pause, and then he adds with a touch of the same dry mirth from earlier: "And call me Dorian; People whose blood I have on my belongings might as well." By this point in his life, it's practically a marker of friendship.

[brother_alone]

Believe it or not, not having drugs for this is one of Joshua's big problems. His medications are supposed to keep him from doing this. He hasn't had any in a long time, now.

"Nice." He will lean forward, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he touched the handkerchief to his nose. "The others? I didn't hurt them. I would never." Josh he isn't talking about your friends. And friends is a very generous term for them given what you've done to them.

"Dorian? Dorian." Josh nods. Pulls the fabric away and stares at it. Blood. Touch. Real. "Joshua."

[mayfairmonster]

"Maybe you should have." Today's Nexus advice forecast: bad. But he also thinks they're talking about the same people. "Yeah, an eye for the eye makes the whole world blind, but in our reality, well. Some people just like to cause pain."

"Joshua. A pleasure." Again, he gives the young man an evaluative once-over, and it's then that he notice the marks of older injuries. This isn't the first time this has happened, then. Dorian casts a glance briefly around the area; He doesn't see any obvious friends and nobody else is jumping to help, so it looks like the good deed falls to him. Guess there's a first time for everything.

Dorian starts to reach into his pocket again, and pulls out another folded white square and holds it up for Josh to see. In the same smooth tone, he asks: "Do you mind if I help you? You've got dirt near the cuts on your face and hands."

[hellburger]

A hunched figure makes slow, shuffling progress through the Plaza. A white, Rip Van Winkle beard cascades from under the drawn-up hood of his oversized parka. Another Nexus hobo?

Josh's bench offers the opportunity for a much-needed break, and the old man eases himself down with a long, low groan. His eyes dip closed behind his sunglasses and it looks like he has no intention of leaving anytime soon.

[brother_alone]

"You look worse'n I feel, guy. I'd be careful. If they come back I'll outrun ya without a second thought." There isn't any 'they' but Josh doesn't seem to know that. He doesn't seem to be aware of a lot of things right now.

"Though, maybe you'd be invisible. They can't see you if you don't move."

[hellburger]

The geezer comes back to life when spoken to. Hard to say if he even noticed the young man before now. He raises a shaking hand to tilt down his sunglasses and get a better look at Josh's questionable condition.

"Who's 'they'?" he grunts, voice hoarse and phlegmy.

[brother_alone]

"Flesh eaters. Wendigo. Monsters. Whatever you call 'em, they're bad news."

Josh there aren't any of those creatures here. You had a bad dream and then you hallucinated and scared the piss out of some random people who beat you in self defense and ran off pissing themselves. You know that, right?

...Right? Rational thoughts are whispers on the wind right now, it seems.

[hellburger]

Miller scans the Nexus for any sign of this supposed threat, then harrumphs loudly. "Wendigo, huh. Like the Algonquian myth? Is that what roughed you up, kid?"