13 . autumn catch-all

[necrolord]

Who: John Gaius and company.
What: After a rough summer, the King Undying lays low.
When: September - October
Where: Mostly Gaze.

Content Warnings: Tagged in headers as needed. Note all the usual warnings of this character.

Comments

if this is too late and you want to handwave just lmk

[dynatox]

Alright. [ Now that he has permission, Terry lets himself relax a little. He's always tightly wound and ready to pounce, unless John is there with him. After all these years he still needs his protection. ]

You've done - everything for me. And I'll always be thankful for that. I only wanted to return the favor. [ If he weren't so absorbed in his own success he would have picked up on the hints John was putting out, that he wasn't the type of man that could be won over with expensive watches and fancy wine and beach house vacations. He was a self-sufficient man, perfectly content to live in some slummy apartment so long as he was providing for himself.

They came from two different worlds and, while Terry was welcome in his world, John was never interested in being part of Terry's. ]

I'd have moved heaven and earth for you if you would have stayed with me. What did Johnny Lawrence have that I didn't?

let's gooo

[necrolord]

[ This is tragically, horrifically juicy. He is mourning this situation in like four different ways. The fuck-or-die bit from the summer had been less awkward; at least that hadn't involved a heart-to-heart about getting cuckolded by Johnny Lawrence. ]

I seriously wish I knew.

[ First Kiriona threw in with him, then Mercy— Mercy, who's always been the one of them with standards— decided to go for it. Of all the things to have in common with a psychotic old man in the forest, he really did not think this would be the link. ]

But is he really the problem?

[ Not to play psychotherapist for the both of them, but, hell, he might as well try to guide this somewhere useful. ]

Nobody leaves for no reason.

[dynatox]

No, no he isn't. [ Terry admits that with a deep sigh. Their problems started long before Johnny Lawrence. ] We failed. We lost. [ At what, specifically, he doesn't say. John Kreese would know it well enough, and John Gaius is probably better off not knowing that the cause of their first breakup was their failure to torture a teenager out of the local karate scene. ]

I loved you just the same, you know. You could never be a failure in my eyes. [ But, as much as he'd like to lay the blame entirely at John's feet and ask him to answer for it, their issues went deeper than that. ] But without some war to fight or business to run or mutual enemy to attack, all we were left with was...you know.

[ Each other. Their own company. Two men who on one hand loved each other deeply enough to fight and even die for each other, and on the other hand crumbled the second any sort of emotional honesty was expected of either of them. Once the rage and cocaine wore off and John had to deal with the consequences of their losses while Terry reverted back to the sniveling coward he was back in Vietnam and begged and pleaded him to stay, it was too much. ]

[necrolord]

[ There it is: there's the bit that's sad to hear. It shows in his face, even old and fucked-up as he is. Some great and mournful pity tightens the lines around his eyes and his mouth, and his gentle grip on Terry's wrists squeezes for a moment, a little clasp of sympathy. ]

I believe it. [ And now the drop: ] I bet your John does, too.

[ He releases Terry's arms, the pressure lifting slow to match his steady tone. He's ready for this to go sideways in new and horrible ways, watching the man's eyes and waiting for either clarity or rage to overtake them. There's no fear in his face, only a funny mix of curiosity and that tired pity.

He doesn't, in the end, look anything like John Kreese. ]

[dynatox]

My John...?

[ He blinks, slowly. The curse is starting to lift now that he's gotten all of his feelings out and...something's wrong. This man was answering to John; it must be his John.

And yet, he isn't. In fact, they're different enough that no one would ever mistake him for John Kreese, not unless they were truly out of their mind. Like he was. Terry gives a sideways glance before standing tall and backing away, tilting his chin upwards as if to make himself larger where just a few moments ago he was trying to be small in the presence of the great John Kreese. ]

You aren't John. [ Alright, he can't be sure of that. ] Not John Kreese, anyway. [ And Terry would be more inclined to be hostile if he didn't start to recognize this man as someone who'd helped him out before. ]

Ah. It seems I only meet you in my lowest moments, doesn't it? [ He shakes his head. ] This place has a funny way with that.

[necrolord]

[ It'd be less sad if the guy swung at him. Instead, John just awkwardly levers himself up off the ground and off the tree, scrubbing bits of bark off his shirt. Terry still has half a foot on him, maybe more. It isn't hard to loom. ]

Wrong John, [ he offers, like this is a funny and understandable mix-up. ] It really does. Happens to the best of us, honestly. I can promise you I've had worse.

[ There was, again, the fuck-or-die bit of the summer. But that'd probably be less awkward, all told. ]

[dynatox]

I'd prefer if this stayed between us.

[ Not a threat. Just a preference. ] There are some people here who would like to make my life more difficult, and I'd rather not give them ammunition.

[ Which is to say: Daniel LaRusso is the real bully. ]

[necrolord]

[ This is such an easy ask that he splays his hands like reassurance, but looks mostly relieved. ]

Call it confession.

[ This is funny for reasons he has not made apparent. ]

It's between you and me.