John caught the bag and paid the Horseman, feeling vaguely dirty in a way that had nothing to do with either the illicit nature of the exchange or, really, with Pollution himself, when you came right down to it. He wasn't quite sure why. Shady dealings of various sorts had been part of his life for damn near as long as he could remember, and indulging his own vices had never particularly bothered him either. Even when they'd come close to killing him.
Maybe it was the pathetic souls scattered around the alley, fellow human beings who lacked the knowledge, the good luck or the sheer ornery stubborness that had kept him more or less in one piece all these years. If there was one thing John hated, it was being reminded how many perfectly decent people had fallen by the wayside while he'd somehow managed to carry on. It wasn't fair, and fuck if he had any idea what to do about it.
"I'd wish you a good night," he muttered, looking around at the miserable huddled wretches with no particular expression, "but it looks like that'd be redundant. See you around the Manor."
He turned on his heel and left, hoping he was wrong about that. The irony of lighting another cigarette as he exited the alley was hardly lost on him, but what could you do? He could leave Pollution standing there, but like everybody else on this mudball, he'd never really be rid of him. Born of humanity's most visceral fears and self-perpetuated plagues, there was a little bit of each Horseman in everyone.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-09-14 10:35 pm (UTC)Maybe it was the pathetic souls scattered around the alley, fellow human beings who lacked the knowledge, the good luck or the sheer ornery stubborness that had kept him more or less in one piece all these years. If there was one thing John hated, it was being reminded how many perfectly decent people had fallen by the wayside while he'd somehow managed to carry on. It wasn't fair, and fuck if he had any idea what to do about it.
"I'd wish you a good night," he muttered, looking around at the miserable huddled wretches with no particular expression, "but it looks like that'd be redundant. See you around the Manor."
He turned on his heel and left, hoping he was wrong about that. The irony of lighting another cigarette as he exited the alley was hardly lost on him, but what could you do? He could leave Pollution standing there, but like everybody else on this mudball, he'd never really be rid of him. Born of humanity's most visceral fears and self-perpetuated plagues, there was a little bit of each Horseman in everyone.