the mayans have been building street cred for a long while now. at least in this area. a group that runs as a family unit -- and sure, they'll do jobs for others and continue to build up the name. but a mayan always comes first. it's why double crossing v was something he had to do, not because he wanted to. said they'd work together and split the eddies, but the moment her guard was down, he'd stolen her earnings and it was given to the family. ez hadn't seen her in a couple of weeks since, but now that he's face to face with her, he can't help the grin taking over his features.
"c'mon, v. don't tell me you're still pissed -- it was weeks ago." hands held before him, eyes flitting from the gun in her hand to meet her own. "why don't we just ride it out?" a subtle move of his head motioning over his shoulder to the motorcycle behind him. "i won't even ask you to helmet up. yeah?"
thread one, the afterlife. "nah," she counters, still watching their hands. "we see who can get the other killed. you know how it goes." it's a deadpan joke. maxtac isn't garden variety anything. they're all intense. there's a loyalty there that is only as strong as their weakest member before the tether snaps. cover ups. provoking. and still, when push comes to shove, there's someone at their six. it's complicated. it's messy. it works. scarlett stops the movement of the blade to glance up, smirking. "you callin' me a cyberpsycho might be one of the nicest things anyone's ever said."
'th' beginnin' of the end' he explains, smug as ever. when her hand disappears as a barier between the two of them, his eyes are just as intense as before. it's only for a moment though, because she's shoving at him and he does sway a little from the impact. not expecting it. she tells him he isn't cute and he chuckles again, 'then why are ye actin' like tha'?'
thread one, stubborn bitch. it isn't shame at being seen as weak. or is it? losing his own family had happened so fast and he was so young. there wasn't a time or a moment to process it. they've been ghosts for far longer than he's ever actually known them. jackie's different. jackie's the first loss that hits like a suckerpunch and just when he thinks he can breathe again, it feels like someone has a hold of his heart in their fist. jerking and kneading it.
"i know," he says in easy reply instead, taking the bottle from her to down a little more than a shot's worth. he hisses between his teeth. "but it doesn't bring him back, no?" spoken like the truth it is even if it's in the form of a question. six meanders, bottle still in hand, about the garage. he stops at the desk, turning to sit against it. admission comes through like a scrape of teeth. "i was mad at him for dying. pos, i don't know if it's something i can forgive the pendejo for still."
he'd been mad at her, too. mad because she got a few extra minutes with jackie and there's something so childish about it it turns the liquor in his stomach. that can die with jackie. rather than move back to her, he holds his hand out. the one without the bottle.
he chuckles, something soft and c*cky. her hand in front of his face, but he doesn't bother pushing it away. no, instead he stands, all 6'2 of him, somewhat hovering over her frame, hands holding the straps of his tactical vest. he doesn't answer about bonnie, but he does grin at her next words, 'didn't know ye are tha' easy tae break under pressure, lass.'
'Only fools keep out in this part of the city at this time of night.' He'd said something like that dozens of times before, and yet here he was, taking on a job with one of the biggest fools when it came to work that he knew. And he was still the biggest fool out of the two for not just hanging up on her in the first place after the stories of the last few gigs she took.
"The fact that you called in anyone at all instead of doing this on your own tells me this was probably advertised as more than just a two man job." He shot back, but there was almost a tone of amusement to his voice. After just a moment, the door unlocked and he motioned her to get in with him. "C'mon. I'll find out what kind of headache I'm signing myself up for on the way."
thread one, stubborn bitch. "si, i figured it's because he didn't know math and how many parts of what to put in," six jokes. jackie's drinks could put anyone to shame and ultimately, it had to be because he was so much bigger than everyone else. at least, that's what he'd always figured. the first time jackie had made him something it made him feel like he was breathing fire and then he promptly vomited all over mama welles' sofa as a result. the boys had laughed about it for ages. because that's what they'd been at the time. boys.
brawn, brains, and all heart.
there's a flinch at the corner of six's jaw, a reflex to keep his emotion in check. he doesn't ask if they should open the bottle, but opens it anyway. "one time, he snuck some of his mama's good stuff from right behind the bar. the kind of stuff that could have you seeing funny colors." breathing now, the air smells easily of the liquor in hand. "perrita's first," he offers it out to her.
thread one, the afterlife. scarlett laughs, tossing back what's left in her glass before reaching for v's hand. rather than hold her hand down and skip the knife between her fingers, she holds it down, yes, but with hers resting atop it. right hand over right hand. a double dose of a five finger fillet. as she talks, she begins jumping the knife over their fingers with her left. slow, at first, her gaze drawn down as she moves, "how much you think i could get for offerin' something like that? realistically speakin'." and faster, the tip of the knife kissing table every time.
thread one, stubborn bitch. there's a heavy swath of nostalgia that hangs on the moment. like a candle burning in a dark room. somehow never quite going out, but it doesn't provide much in way of warmth anymore. that's jackie welles. that's being here in his storage unit after so long. dust clings to the nooks and crannies of things that jackie will never pick up again and six almost has to step out. almost. there's something grounding about being there with her, though. a piece of the puzzle to jackie's life. someone who knew him, really knew.
jackie's pride and joy sits there and at one point, he'd been bitter that ownership had passed on to her. like a piece of him lives on because of this stupid bitch of a bike and six wasn't the one to inherit it. now, though, now — six is watching vee as she navigates the series of rooms, watches what she touches and what she doesn't.
now, it's fitting. now, he knows it shouldn't have been any other way. "that puto and his goddamn drink," he says, picking up a bottle. one of many stashed away here.