Conflicting Thoughts (open)

[Patrick O'Connor]

"Patrick O'Connor, hateable city drunk," The irishman said on a whim before asking, "And yers?"

Patrick wasn't really sure why he answered, nor really why he asked her. In a city this size he was likely never to see her again. There was no need for an exchange of names. They could simly use pronouns and converse this way. But Patrick had to admit that this in of itself was an oddity. He was generally antisocial and any conversation he had usually was along the lines of 'get out of my way, give that to me or I'll kill ye' or something generally along those lines. Having an intelectual conversation with anyone was generally quite rare, even if Patrick had spent half of he time insulting her. It was funny really. He kind of enjoyed it.

Once again at a loss now that their arguement was over he added in, "So what do ye do to kill time?"

[Vespyr]

"I'm Vespyr." said Vespyr, grinning and wondering why she had asked in the first place. She didn't really understand names. It was like... a label, because people didn't know who they were, so they had to give themselves a name? 'Vespyr' wasn't even the girls's real name; it was just something she had spontaneously conjured up the first time she was asked that question, because she couldn't remember her actual name-- she had only been about six years old when she was abandoned and her parents hadn't even called her by her birthname in the first place. They used other words...

And to answer his question, she didn't really know what to say. She had never thought of her existance or daily activities as 'killing time'. "I, um... survive?" she said, supressing a snort at how stupid that must have sounded. But it was true. "Like... I sleep a lot during the day... mmyep. And I try to avoid people. But I watch them a lot, from afar. And I read... and thats about it." she sighed and nibbled her pinky finger. Speaking of surviving, she was getting hungry. She glanced over at the cafe counter where the samples were. Score. I'll grab some later... whenever this ends.

"What about you? Besides the drinking. I'm sure that takes up a lot of your time."

[Patrick O'Connor]

Vespyr? Interesting name. Unless her parents were new age hippies or something that was a peculier name. Made Patrick kinda wonder if her Parents had been new age hippies, or at least how she had gotten the name. Patrick O'Connor? That was really the only thing that his parents had left him. All he knew of them was watching them get stabbed to death, him getting the scar across his face and that his name was Patrick O'Connor. As vague as it seemed that was his first memory and actually a vivid one. Patrick winced a bit. But yeah, that was the story of his name.

She was a survivalist too. That was unsuprising, that was generally the way of those who were homeless and lived on the streets relying on only themselves. It was also unsuprising that she avoided people seeing as she was the picture girl for antisocial. Not that he was one to talk as he was the poster boy for anti social, hey this was from the guy who broke a kid's kneecaps for bumping into him in the hallway. But what did he do to kill time? Besides drinking? That was an interesting question that didn't really have a straight forward answer.

"Besides drinking? Getting more booze and trying to fill the stomach that I just emptied over the sidewalk," Patrick said as if it were no big deal, because it wasn't, "Generally avoid people unless I decide to use them as toys, kill people who get in my way sometimes, most of the time maim them or cripple em in some unique way because people fear the process of dying and disability more then actual death some times. So after I do that people are more apt to stay away. Take what I want and generally keep to meself and deal with me own problems. Oh, and did I mention drinking?"

yeah, that was an important one...

[Vespyr]

"Pretty much same here. Besides the drinking... For some reason I just can't handle the taste. Though I did have a whole bottle of somethingorother once upon a time and I fell off the roof... that was pretty bad. That's why me legs a little crooked, sorta... Well they both are.. Damn I'm just busted up all over aren't I... Whatever." she said, feeling up her shoulder where it had been sliced open a few weeks ago by that crazy cannibal Dots... it hadn't healed yet, and still bled. There were crimson stains on her coat where it had oozed out and soaked her sleeve. It hurt like a bitch but she had just started ignoring it. There was no point in rueing over something that wouldn't get better. She'd probably die of blood poisoning sooner or later. She just shrugged at the topic.

Then she began to wonder about death. Patrick said he found amusement in seeing people fear it... but Vespyr still didn't understand why they feared it so much. Death was a part of life, and for people like her, it was something to look forward to... But it was sort of entertaining to take a life.

"You know what I like? I like the look in somebody's eyes when they're about to die, especially when they never saw it coming. Once there was this girl... who sat down next to me and started singing me a song for no reason. I turned on her and ripped out her jaw. It was priceless. I guess its so damn amusing because I don't understand why they're so afraid..." she said, still rubbing her arm.

[Patrick O'Connor]

"Know how that feels," Patrick said. He had been left for dead so many times that it had kind of lost its humor at this point. He had been shot, stabbed, slashed, carved up, near every bone broken in his body, shot off of piers, multiple times. His entire body was so scarred that it would seem as if he came right out of some cheesy action film. Patrick was no stranger to being banged up, having lived most of his life with some sort of injury.

She then started to describe death and how it was funny to her. She apparently liked people who died suprised and shocked. Patrick had to admit, that it was a good one. The shock and in inhalation of breath before the longest exhale a person would ever give. Though it was overrated if you asked him. It was fun and all, but Patrick had seen it too many times. After all when he was in New York offing people just about every night, no one expected it. No one expected an armed gunman to burst in and well, gun them down.

"Well suprise and shock is fun and all but it's too common," Patrick said, "What me favorite deaths have been are when the person just gives up and the will to live. I remember I was trolling around with nothing to do. I found a woman. Stupid and unaware person. She fell down a well out in the middle of nowhere. I stumbled upon her after she had been down there for hours. She had to have been her lips were blue and her face was pale. She was screaming that she was so cold and screaming for someone to get help. I looked over the side and saw her. The fear was beautiful. She screamed at me to get help. I didn't give a shit so I spit down the well. She gave up, right there. The life in her face faded away in seconds and she sank down into the water. It was breath taking. Since then I have broken a number of people, mostly with physical violence, but nothing quite beats breaking someone's will to live if ye can do it without laying a hand on them."

Patrick gave a sick smile in remembrance...

[Vespyr]

Vespyr listened intently to Patrick's story, thinking of her own violent experiences simultaneously. Now that she realized... she had never beaten on anyone just for the fun if it; mostly she had killed because comebody got in her way, or... went out of their way to get in her way... that had happened many times and she dealt accordingly with those perverts.

But she had always been too busy contemplating the meaninglessness of life to actually have fun doing what she did best. She never really had fun before. However, she had deliberately killed for other reasons... one being pure bloodlust. She had gone into a frenzy once and killed a number of people just to feel their warm blood on her hands. It was haunting, the way she was completely indifferent to their fear, but she still just didn't give a shit. Still didn't worry about the consequences. Just wanted the blood.

All she could really think of to say at the moment was a conclusive "Mmmhmm.." because she assumed that Patrick wasn't the kind of person who liked to sit and listen to somebody talk... She just got that vibe from him. She wanted to tell him about her life, as the custom was with conversation, but she was at a loss for something interesting to say. And she didn't want to bore him with small-talk. So she asked the question that was still on her mind.

"But why do people fear dying so much? Life is pointless; what's the use fretting over the end of it?"

[Patrick O'Connor]

OOC:wow, Pat really does love long monologues huh? I don't remember him doing this as a good guy though... It's only a matter of time before he fights someone and gives them a why-you-suck speech I guess.

Her question gave Patrick an exasperated chuckle. Funny really. Ironic, "Simple really. They're afraid of losing what they have," Patrick sighed, "However little or much they don't want to lose it."

Patrick paused, giving another sigh. He had had little but so very much once upon a time. He had lost it, "There are things that people think are worth holding onto in life and they will blindly fight with their very lives to try and keep those things. Those things," Patrick said with almost a contempt, "However seemingly significant only cause us pain. These things make people think life is worth living. As miserable as they are they are quite keen to keep those things as long as possible, be it money or something as simple as life. The things are worthless. Even life, that's the beauty of it."

"People so blindly place value on it and their values, are passed on to their children and then their children's children. Until they are pathetic and weak. Until they realize how weak, fragile and meaninglessly brief life really is. And by then, their afraid to lose the value that they have placed on life and their things."

Patrick laughed cynically. He had had so little, and yet it was everything. Friends, almost a family, again, and most of all he had values, and ideals. What little he had and lived for, fighting to survive he had prized. He had lost family once, then he had lost an entire set of friends, then he had lost another family. Then He had gained all the aforementioned. Only to lose it. No, not all at once. That would have been too painless. No, he lost one at a time, sould his soul to the devil only to lose another. One at a time until then all he valued was the most important. And when he had lost that one, well shit.

So he ran. Ran across the country observing. All the people doing all the things that he had supposedly valued aganst people he had suposedly been against. It was worthless and pathetic he had decided. So he had replaced his dead morals with a set of amorals.

That was 2 years ago...

[Vespyr]

OOC: Hooray for monologues :D

Vespyr's eyes widened at his mention of the things. It was like he was reading her mind.

"Yes, its all about the things, isn't it... People and their goddamned things... It becomes the only purpose of their life, is to have these stupid things! But the things you own end up owning you." she stated, pointing a long bony finger at a random glass salt shaker for no apparent reason. Then she picked it up, examined it precariously, and said, "that is why it is necessary to let go of these things... The only cause trouble." She tightened her fist and the object was shattered into nothing more than a pile of salt and glass fragments. She opened her hand and dropped the remnants, along with a few drops of blood.

She seemed not to notice the cuts at all and clasped her hands together with her chin resting on top of them, leaning in to listen to what Patrick had to say. Vespyr had never really talked to anyone like this before, never felt this intrigued, or not felt like just walking away. She actually felt like listening for once.

"And when people are attached to these things, they become attached to the future, and what things they could have in the future... And forget that the future is never certain. You can plan ahead all you want but there's never any telling what might happen, so its useless. There's no use holding onto the future because it doesn't exist. We're all gonna die someday, so what does it matter what you accomplish before then? So what if you did something great. Big deal. You die and then you're dead, that's the bottom line. There's nothing after that, no afterlife where you can sit and reminisce on all the wonderful things you did while you were alive. You're fucking DEAD. And when everyone else who ever knew you dies too, then you're gone forever, and then nobody will give a shit about what you did while you were alive." Vespyr almost spat out that last sentence in disgust, thinking back on all the times people had used their future as an excuse to do something horrible. It made her feel sick.

"But I guess it could be great, too... Because no one will remember the fucked up things you did either. No one would remember how greedy and selfish you were, or that you were a rapist, or that you abandoned your children on a train when they were too young to fend for themselves... It wouldn't matter anymore, because you're gone and you're never coming back..."

[Patrick O'Connor]

Listening to her speech Patrick got the opinion that she was talking more materialistically the he had been. Really wasn't suprising though, Patrick had already decided that she was homeless and from his observation over the years he had decided that people who had been or were homeless were among the most material oriented people. Whether they were concerned about getting material objects, or in this case their hate of them. Patrick had once been concerned overly for them, money particularly to be able to get food or pay rent and to a degree he guess he could say that he was still some what concerned about them but hey everyone was. Their were no saints, only demons.

But Patrick meant more abstract 'things'. He meant relationships and ideals, stuff like that. But her interpretation was correct too he figured. It made him grin actually, how easily things were interpreted. He had just said things really to aviod the pain that came from his mistakes with relationships love and ideals. But that was another story that Patrick didn't feel like telling.

But her explanation on how transparent humans actions were were intriguing but Patrick had a slight disagreement, "True yer and me actions along with everyone elses are but shadows and dust but there are those that are remembered and long will be. It's amusing though, the select few that are remembered generally aren't the ones who are famous. They seem to Have infamy most in common, Stalin and Hitler come to mind. But they too will fade into history, to be forgotten. They are remembered long after their deaths but humanity is still humanity. Odd though that of all the people likely to to be remembered, ye and I are at the top of the list because of out infamy."

Patrick noted her possible reference to her own past. It was one that while not quite subtle was not blatantly obvious as well. Patrick knew that he had made his references as well. It was personally interesting that they were giving these tidbits though Patrick wasn't going to give her the wholse story. It didn't cease to be intrigueing to him why they did that all the same though...

[Vespyr]

OOC: sorry if this one's short. I woke up with zero muse today and I couldn't really think of anything else to say xD


Vespyr chuckled disbelievingly and looked curiously at Patrick, wondering if he was being serious when he said they were at the top of the list. Vespyr thought for sure that they, of all people, would be the least remembered. For one thing, it appeared that niether of them had family or friends.

"Us? Remembered? I doubt it. People have too many other things to deal with, they're not gonna take the time to remember us. When we die I doubt no one will even know we ever existed at all. Well... I don't know about you, maybe you've got friends. But I know for sure that no one is going to remember me. Who would even want to? If I died today, or sometime soon, which is likely, no one would care. Maybe I'd be in the news for a day because I'm an unnamed body, but they'd all soon forget." she said, hoping that she hadn't misunderstood him and was still on-subject. His last few words were sort of a jumble to her because she wasn't feeling well, (when did she ever?) but tried not to show it because she did not want the conversation to end... Although, she didn't really know waht else to talk about. But she was fine just sitting and listening.

[Patrick O'Connor]

"Yeah," Patrick admited, "I kinda doubt it too. What I meant though was that our attitudes were in line for being remembered, meaning that if we so choosed we had a shot of being remembered longer then our fifteen minutes of fame. Why? because we are the ones who would blow up some building or children's hospital without remorse. We could easily have genocidal tendencies. But that would take more effort then it's worth, honestly."

It was funny though. Patrick was already widely known and feared, although by a different name and in a different city. Although there was little doubt in his mind that he had become a national figure with his little exploits in New York. He had singlehandedly brought the mob to its knees. He had struck fear into the hearts of the Russians, the Albanians, and probably most importantly the had near crippled the Italians. How? Simply, going out every single night and shooting them was the answer. He simply went on a rampage and started offing them and taking whatever money was left on the table. He had even stopped the mainstream flow of drungs for a while, and if not stopped slowed by blowing away some drug runners when the met with the italians. Although those days were long gone.

The days of the "Angel of Death" were over.

That was a moot topic though and Patrick certainly didn't want the mob to come efter him again so the angel had died on those docks near two years ago. Although the angel was technically dead Patrick bore his scars still. Most notably on his back but elsewhere too. In the form of knife and gunshot wounds all over his body, arms and legs.

Patrick took another drink of his coffee. He was done talking for now, this conversation seemed to be at an end. Unless Vespyr was going to say anything it was likely that he would leave soon to move on to greener pastures...

[Vespyr]

"I think it wouldn't be worth it. Now that I think about it... Its a lotta work and I'd rather watch it be done. But whatever." Vespyr was referring to the genocide. But she halfheartedly made her statement, feeling that it would be arbitrary to make another speech about how she felt. She felt tired. And the daylight was disappearing fast. Vespyr felt the calling to wander off into the darkness, melding into the shadows and becoming part of the night. She wondered if other people felt that same way about the daytime... Why did they dote upon the sunlight so?

"Well, this has been really interesting but I think it about time for me to be gone. Really, I've never really had an actual conversation before... Thanks, Patrick. It was, uhm..." she said, rising from the table. She lingered for a moment thinking she should maybe shake his hand? As she began to outstretch a gloved hand, she changed her mind and considered it was pointless, really. Just another strange social custom that didn't make sense to her. The hand slid back into her trenchcoat pocket.

"It was pleasant to meet you. See ya 'round, maybe." I doubt it... It was a huge city. They'd probably never meet again. That fact didn't bother her too much, but she'd remember today. She felt matured, her mind wasn't so closed in anymore. She could breathe a little easier, and maybe sleep a little easier, too, now that she felt a little freed from the cage of her own loneliness.