[OPEN] 'a series of attacks,' they said.

[nevada 'vegas' jayvon hanson]

He took his hand, slowly getting up. "Mother /fuck/." He groaned, shaking his head. "I don't think he's that stupid. Or I hope not. He's been after me since I came home. He keeps coming to my work trying to get behind the counter. I threw a stapler at him." He sighed.

"Fine, drive me." He said, slowly making his way around the truck. He got in, buckling his seat. "It's that street." He said, pointing to it. "There's a green as fuck sports car in the driveway. Not that I remember how to drive it or anything."

[ryan leonardo matson]

"I'm sorry." Ryan got into the truck and pulled out, driving quietly up the road until he found the car, pulling smoothly up behind it and hopping out, rounding the car to help him as well. He didn't care how prideful he was, he was obviously hurting, and from the sounds of it having problems with his memory.

[nevada 'vegas' jayvon hanson]

Nevada stayed quiet on the ride, shrinking away a bit when the guy opened the door. "I'm perfectly capable of limping to the door. Don't pick me up." He said, slowly getting out of the truck. He walked slowly to the door, only to find someone sitting on the couch. It seemed all too familiar to him. Then he blinked and it was gone. He guessed it was a memory, since there was no one there.

"I'm Nevada." He said. He had finally figured out his last name. But had no idea what his middle name was. He walked to the closet in the hall, one of Jayson's hats falling on him. He put it back, then grabbed his crutches, using them for support. "Okay, what do you want to drink?"

[ryan leonardo matson]

Ryan smirked. "I wasn't going to pick you up." He followed him into the house, looking around. "Ah, Ryan. And I don't care, whatever you have." Showing up at the station drunk wouldn't be a good idea, he would turn his badge in some other time. They all knew he was bound to quit, he had never wanted to work for them anyway, had wanted the rights to a gun to kill the bastard that had destroyed his sister.

[nevada 'vegas' jayvon hanson]

"Whatever I have narrows it down to the supply of the bar down the street and a pub in Ireland. My kitchen is alcohol." He searched through a few cabinets. He didn't remember how to mix them, but had found the cards to some of the drinks in a box.

"Okay, I'll ask this. How wasted do you intend on getting?" He asked, leaning against the counter. He suddenly had the urge to change his jeans again. Just the thought of August taunting him, brushing against him with his jeans still on.

'Tell me again how much you love your boyfriend when you can come for a vampire with your pants on, faggot.' He heard the words echoing in his head, the last thing August had said before he walked off. He bit his lip, looking around the kitchen to keep from crying.

[ryan leonardo matson]

Ryan made his way to the kitchen. "Honestly, as wasted as I can get without wanting to kill my-..you alright?" He gazed at him gently. "Hey, why don't you go clean up, okay? I'll take care of the drinks." He patted his shoulder gently.

[nevada 'vegas' jayvon hanson]

"I-.. okay.." He said, slowly making his way to the bedroom. He grabbed his clothes, carrying them in his mouth to the bathroom. He took a shower carefully, pulled on his clothes, then made his way back out of the bathroom.

"I think the weirdest part of what happened is like.. the fact that I know this is me. But I keep finding things. Piercings and tattoos, weird scars. Like.. things you should know but you don't." He sat down at the island, propping his crutches against it. "It's like someone took you out, and put you in your body, only modified. Makes sense?"

[ryan leonardo matson]

"Yeah, hard to imagine, bet it's weird. Feel better?" He passed a drink to him, leaning up against the counter and taking a heavy swallow of his own. "I wonder if I'm able to label myself as alcoholic yet." He laughed somewhat bitterly, shook his head. "Of all possible jobs, I chose to be a fucking cop and a gym teacher."

[nevada 'vegas' jayvon hanson]

"A little." He said, taking a sip of the drink. He sat it back down on the counter. "Alcoholics go to meetings. You can be like.. an occasional drinker. Or something. Who likes labels anyways?" He glanced at his glass, then downed the rest of it, laying his head down on the counter. It didn't bother him at all.

"I work retail. That's what blows. Girls trying to get your number, boys calling you a faggot, stocks.." He groaned, folding his hands behind his head.

[ryan leonardo matson]

Ryan shrugged, and finished his own drink. What was better? Living the life of a drunk, or suicide?
He huffed, looking over at him. "Doesn't sound like much fun, I would rather deal withretail than kids and crime." A faint smile his way. "I don't know what I got myself into, trying to avenge my sister." He moved to mix himself another drink.