[The entirety of Steven's dilemma is utterly lost on Lanque. Between not knowing anything about Jack and Steven, but also he's assuming any tension from his is because he was called by the shitty bar keep who didn't know how to mind his own business! His expression sours at Steven's explanation, as if that were even possible at this point, but his eyes notable squint at the mention of "nephew".
He has no idea what that means, and even less of one about whether he should.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he watches as the barkeep looks between the two of them, but then shakes his head. Simply requesting that they both just go. As indignant as he is drunk, he seems to want to stay firm where he is, but after a moment—he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh.]
I don't see why you care? Like, what do you get out of this? Think I'm gonna owe you, something like that?
[As he says that, his eyes flick downwards towards—well... Look. He's drunk, he was obviously up to something before Steven arrived, and maybe he's used to shady expectations... He's a troll, after all.]
[He sighs and slides his hands back through his hair.]
It's not about what you owe me. It's that I believe in getting on the good side of the people who serve your drinks and guess what? This will make the guy who called me really happy.
[And also Steven (sort of) likes Lanque (some of the time) so he'd very much rather see the kid home safely than in the kind of trouble he'd end up in if he wandered off in this condition, but he can't tell Lanque that. He knows how boys like Lanque think and they automatically suspect anything done out of seeming altruism--and he can't think that the troll version is much different.]
[To Steven's denial, he rolls his eyes with a shake of his head that implies he doesn't believe him. Fortunately, he doesn't say as much.]
Well, let me be the first to tell you, I don't have a good side. [Was he even listening? Can he listen right now?] But if you want to be on the good side of this nasty old bitch?
[He gestures at him as he says it, which earns him a stare that would kill if looks were capable.]
Be my fucking guest, but I have no interest in helping you earn your grubscout insignias.
You're a kid, Lanque. [God, he can't deal with you some days.]
But fine. [And he'll just. Stride forward and grab Lanque by the arm.] You're going home now, because you're wasted. I don't expect you to thank me for it, but I do expect your employers will.
Kid—oh you mean a wiggler? You're wrong, I'm eight.
[As he goes to say more, Steven's already grabbing him and pulling him?? Despite his slim form, Lanque is incredibly strong, seeing as he used to be a troll and all. However, being drunk as he is...well, he's not very coordinated.
So when he resists, he doesn't actually do what he imagines in his alcohol soaked brain. He doesn't powerfully and elegantly pull himself free from Steven's grasp, knocking Steven off kilter so he might fall on his ass, allowing him to stare down at Steven defiantly like he's lower than a mutated grub about to be culled.
Instead, what he does do is lose his footing, which forces his equilibrium to get entirely fucked by the sudden slip, and so it's entirely on Steven to keep him from busting his ass on the floor if he's so inclined.]
[He almost lets him fall. He's so goddamn tempted to just-- let go of Lanque entirely and let fall on his ass, like an idiot. It makes him hesitate for just a moment, which screws up his own footing, so that while Steven does manage to keep Lanque (and himself) from entirely completely spilling onto the floor, it's at the expense of having to grab hold of a barstool to do so.]
Shit.
[Just going to. Try to pull them both upright now.]
Look, [he says, voice a little strained as he attempts to do just that.] If we go now, the bartender isn't going to call security on you for being drunk and disorderly and ban you from the establishment.
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fingersandteeth) wrote2022-02-21 05:11 pm
no subject
He has no idea what that means, and even less of one about whether he should.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he watches as the barkeep looks between the two of them, but then shakes his head. Simply requesting that they both just go. As indignant as he is drunk, he seems to want to stay firm where he is, but after a moment—he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh.]
I don't see why you care? Like, what do you get out of this? Think I'm gonna owe you, something like that?
[As he says that, his eyes flick downwards towards—well... Look. He's drunk, he was obviously up to something before Steven arrived, and maybe he's used to shady expectations... He's a troll, after all.]
no subject
Not that, Lanque--for fuck's sake.
[He sighs and slides his hands back through his hair.]
It's not about what you owe me. It's that I believe in getting on the good side of the people who serve your drinks and guess what? This will make the guy who called me really happy.
[And also Steven (sort of) likes Lanque (some of the time) so he'd very much rather see the kid home safely than in the kind of trouble he'd end up in if he wandered off in this condition, but he can't tell Lanque that. He knows how boys like Lanque think and they automatically suspect anything done out of seeming altruism--and he can't think that the troll version is much different.]
no subject
Well, let me be the first to tell you, I don't have a good side. [Was he even listening? Can he listen right now?] But if you want to be on the good side of this nasty old bitch?
[He gestures at him as he says it, which earns him a stare that would kill if looks were capable.]
Be my fucking guest, but I have no interest in helping you earn your grubscout insignias.
no subject
But fine. [And he'll just. Stride forward and grab Lanque by the arm.] You're going home now, because you're wasted. I don't expect you to thank me for it, but I do expect your employers will.
[Just going to try to drag out the stupid kid.]
no subject
[As he goes to say more, Steven's already grabbing him and pulling him?? Despite his slim form, Lanque is incredibly strong, seeing as he used to be a troll and all. However, being drunk as he is...well, he's not very coordinated.
So when he resists, he doesn't actually do what he imagines in his alcohol soaked brain. He doesn't powerfully and elegantly pull himself free from Steven's grasp, knocking Steven off kilter so he might fall on his ass, allowing him to stare down at Steven defiantly like he's lower than a mutated grub about to be culled.
Instead, what he does do is lose his footing, which forces his equilibrium to get entirely fucked by the sudden slip, and so it's entirely on Steven to keep him from busting his ass on the floor if he's so inclined.]
no subject
Shit.
[Just going to. Try to pull them both upright now.]
Look, [he says, voice a little strained as he attempts to do just that.] If we go now, the bartender isn't going to call security on you for being drunk and disorderly and ban you from the establishment.