2020-03-07 - Kaw

The hangover from the prior night was still in full effect despite Easton's best efforts. Plenty of gatorade, a full breakfast when he finally made it to the bar and an oxy to really jump start the 'healing' had done little to bring relief.

The lunch time 'crowd' as it is only serves to darken Easton's mood. He should be thankful for a nice quiet dining room but it feels dead not peaceful. The stress feelings from the other night are back despite the lack of crowds and noise and there's nothing he can point to other than the fact that he's sober for a cause. He considers pouring himself a beer, just to try and catch his breath but he wants to stick to the no drinking at work rule. He wants to be able to say he has this under control.

His palm hits the door handle with a little more force than is strictly necessary as he barges out onto the deck for a smoke. The seagulls complain as they fly up and off the railings and despite the fact that it's childish he can't help but smirk and flip them off, as if he's glad to inflict his lousy mood on someone else. He sighs and leans against the exterior wall of the bar and lights up, pulling in the smoke and trying to center his thoughts. Normally he wouldn't smoke a joint during work but it helps with the nausea and it's not like the three whole customers are even going to notice or care.

Yes, Katheine's here. He lets that thought sit there, in his mind, as if he can walk around it and examine it like a soldier standing at attention. Is that the cause of his stress? Yes, he needs to have a conversation with her, to apologize at the damn least. He could try to explain but what's the use? To make himself look better? To make himself feel better? He sucks in a breath and tries to sort out if this is what's causing him to stress or if it's something else altogether. There's the fact that he's putting huge sums of family money on the line in a venture that he's barely vetted. That's stressful. There's the fact that he's had to re-open communication with his parents to even make this deal possible, and that's a whole world of stress.

Is it the date? He knows the anniversary of the accident is coming up soon. He tries not to think about it in terms of Tom's death. He is loathe to think about it in terms of his Alive Day. It's just the accident. That's it.

But in the midst of his smoking and considering he notices a pair of unnatural eyes on him.

The crow is white, the only color on it the pale sickly orange beak and those awful orange eyes staring at him. At first he mistook it for one of the wronged seagulls come back to reclaim it's roost, but there is no mistaking the shape of the bird now that he takes another look. The only darkness appears to be dripping off the bird, as if crows were only painted black, as thick tar like substance drips onto the railing. Easton takes a second to register that the color melting off a bird is likely a good sign that he's slipped into a Dream but a quick glance around confirms that nothing else is changed.

KAW

The sound echoes through Easton but in his mind he's sure that it was speaking, more than just bird tongue, he knows what it said.

TOM

The gun is drawn and fired before Easton even realizes he's chosen to do so. The bird leaps to take flight but he's easily tracking it at this distance and can feel his breath slowly release as he gives that trigger the soft but decisive pressure it needs. The bird spins as if struck but Easton's smile is short lived as all that happens is a bit more black tar drips out of the bird as it rises up into the air and flies away, leaving bits of tar stuck to his deck. He walks closer to inspect it but decides against actually touching it, to be safe.

Safetying the gun, he stubs out the rest of his smoke, looking at the roach accusitorially for a moment as if blaming it for the appearance of the crow but then he walks back into the bar and pours himself a glass of whiskey.

"This fucking town..."