Jack & Pip: Some Dive Bar in Londontown

[handel]

[Continued from here.]


Somehow, they've gone from fisticuffs to a night out at a bar.

Pip isn't sure how, exactly... but that's often how it is with Jack. He could never quite keep up with the tempo of that man. Of when something was a joke or when it was serious, when things were stressed or when they were relaxed. Very possibly, it's his own fault. He tended to take seriously (and balk at) whatever Jack joked about, while imagining that some of the more outlandish tales Jack told about his life and London in general must be all folly (when in fact, time is more and more informing him, those stories were not.) Similarly, Jack always seemed to be rather too-relaxed about the things that Pip was rather too-stressed over. As a result, they moved to a very different beat of the drum, and Pip often found he was only halfway through the notes when suddenly Jack was dragging them both to a new page of music.

Case and Point: The dive-bar, the very night after his hangover, the very night after he'd sworn he'd never drink again. And drinking right beside the very man he'd almost taken to task over Estella's honour, at that.

He'd never really been to any of London's more reasonable drinking establishments-- he'd been told it was better to stick to shelling out money at member's clubs, 'seeing and being seen', whatever that meant.Hhe'd gathered, too, from Jaggers and from the general air of disdain for the common man his new social rung carried, that you didn't want to 'be seen' by the wrong people, which was what this bar was absolutely full of. Oddly, though, there really didn't seem to be anything wrong with the wrong people, just that they were rather more like Joe than they were like Estella: which meant, he'd feel much more comfortable here than he did at member's clubs, if he wasn't so uncomfortable with how comfortable it was.

...You can see why he'd be over-stressed, with thoughts like that.

Biting his lip out of a bad habit he meant to break, he'd take a seat beside Jack at the bar and peered over, for all appearances trying to hide himself in his coat collar, to avoid 'being seen.'

"Hello... ...are you sure that drinking more really cures the bad effects of alcohol?" Well, Nancy had said so, anyway. It just seemed like a hypocritical solution, to him.

Comments

[artfuldawkins]

"... She come running when you need her then?" Jack asked causally, having listened to everything Pip had to say. He would give him a mark for pointing out that you should treat people the way they want to be treated, but something still didn't add up here. It sounded very much like Pip had to do as Estella commanded, and bugger what he wanted in the end. Now, Jack weren't much, but he weren't for that.

"Herbet," the snort was involuntary but honestly, what a name, "ain't wrong."

[handel]

"...I've never asked her to." But in the hypothetical situation that he did? A wary look sideways at Jack. "But no, probably she wouldn't."

Because she'd be busy, doing her own duty to Miss Havisham. They both understood one another on some level because they were both bound up by money they didn't own, and all the stipulations surrounding one day inheriting it. With the secondary option being poverty, obscurity, ruin, and the return to a rural life they'd both hated.

"I wouldn't know the first thing about 'getting over' her. Haven't you ever loved someone that much, Jack? Unconditionally?"

[artfuldawkins]

"Just an outsider here, but that don't seem right." He said, voice actually sincere for a rare change, hoping that might help get it through to Pip that well, this girl was using him. Not that he thought Pip actually gave a shit about it, but he should. Jack had seen this before, or ... well, a far more extreme version of it. He couldn't do anything for that one, save just be there, but maybe he could stop this one before it got too far. Maybe.

"...You reckon that's what you feel?" He always wondered why people asked him that in the past tense. He did love someone unconditionally - more than one someone. He reckoned it was pretty obvious as to the who, though. Mind you.. this was Pip. Blind as a bat sometimes.

[handel]

The funny thing about wealth (or the veneer of it) was that it has a habit of covering up the truth in gilt and gold. If you'd have asked Pip if he'd been misused as a child, he probably would have said yes; but beyond that, he'd have not very much to add. He didn't look the type. Jack, or Nancy: they looked the type. It was in the way they spoke, it was in their professional capacities, it was in where they lived and who they knew, it was in the way they so thoroughly understood the world... the truth to the world, in a way they laughed or rolled their eyes over, and took and offered at face value. Pip, and to some extent, Estella and Herbert, weren't at liberty to do that. If you'd asked him to elaborate on the misuse, he probably would have said 'my sister was very severe', and then would have felt a sight guiltily for having admitted it. It wasn't that those without money didn't have abuse-- they had much more of it, from what Pip had seen, and they were less likely believed when they spoke the reality of it. But in the wealthy circles, it was considered a non-reality. It couldn't be the case. And so, he didn't often think to it, to back to the time before money.

Sure, he'd been hit and harassed every single day of his life. Sure, he'd been made to work before it was legal. Sure, he'd been taken across town to be used as an experiment for hurting people by a little girl who was equally trapped and downtrodden. It was all the case. And all that being the case, it wasn't possible to make from that a fully-formed adult who felt entitled to people coming when he called. It didn't seem unreasonable, to Pip, that people should use you. It seemed unreasonable, to the contrary, to complain about it. The world beat that notion out of you right quick, that you deserved anything at all, much less complaints-- when you grew up similar to the way they did.

"...It doesn't seem wrong, either." Insisted, softly, going to take another sip of the beer before setting it away from him. Honestly, he'd never liked the taste. "I know it's what I feel. I feel it more than anything else." He loved Herbert, too, and that came close. He thought it might be harder to leave Herbert than to leave Estella, but it was easier to slip into thoughts of Estella than it was Herbert. He'd loved Joe and Biddy once, too; and those two, he'd left for a song. That hadn't felt right, or good. Why should he do it to Estella?

"...I don't mean to press." A rare moment of clarity: "But I notice you didn't answer my question, Jack. Is it too painful to speak on? I didn't mean to make you feel low." Jack had slipped right past the 'love' question, where pertaining to himself.

[artfuldawkins]

Jack would believe it, but then again, he had a long standing belief that wealth just made a person a tiny bit evil. Not much, in some cases, but for most who had access to money? Yeah, that evil was noticeable by anyone who wasn't their kind. Respectable had the same curse to it, frankly. It's why he avoided both. Pip, he reckoned, care too much about staying in these circles, staying respectable. He'd said as much more than once. Mind you, he didn't think he was actually listened to, that would be hoping for too much. Especially if he'd gone and gotten himself hung up on someone who was forced into a role that they sharpened themselves to fit.

"Just wonderin' why it's always asked in the past tense."

[handel]

"Forgive me... I've been selfish, rambling about my own problems." And here, it seemed Jack perhaps had one as well. "You're right. Love, not loved. You do have someone you love then? Right now?" After all, maybe Pip had read it wrong. It wouldn't be the first time.

[artfuldawkins]

Jack paused, the words hovering. Pip said someone. Singular. Should he...?

"That's what I was sayin', yeah."

No, it'd keep.

[handel]

"Would you... would you tell me about them?" Sitting back a little, trying to be patient and to listen now. He wasn't half bad at that at all, when he could unwrap his mind from the way it had been warped around Estella.

"Do they know how you feel?"

[artfuldawkins]

"... I reckon they do," Jack said evenly, staring into his own pint. "But it's not..." He paused, and shook his head, a bitter laugh coming from him. "But it ain't like anything can be. There's ... a lot an' that lot can't be shifted. So, that's that." Jack shrugged, and lifted and drained the last half of his pint, placing the glass back down when he was done.

"I'm getting another."

[handel]

"Like what? What is there in the world that you can't possibly shift?" Without missing a beat, he'd slide his mostly-full glass over. "You can have mine." He knew the effects of interludes on a conversation, after all, being rather the master of it with Joe, whether he meant to be or not. "Why do you think the lot can't be shifted? What does the matter come down to?"

[artfuldawkins]

"The matter comes down to needing a fresh pint, not something warmed over," Jack replied easily, standing and going to the bar to get a new one for himself. He needed the brief few minutes away from the table to gather his thoughts. Of course Pip would start asking, of course he would. But there was a lot he wasn't going to unpack. Sometimes even the Artful Dodger had stuff he couldn't shift.

[handel]

Well, they'd see about that, anyway.

Once Pip had it in his mind that someone needed something, he tended to feel an awful pull towards helping them get it, if they seemed like a worthwhile person. He didn't know that Jack was good exactly, but worthwhile?

He'd known criminals in his life, real thugs and bullies. Jack wasn't like that.

And everyone, as far as Pip could tell, deserved to be with the people they loved, who might love them. Anything less was torture, wasn't it?

[artfuldawkins]

Pip's opinion would change if he saw the way Jack would carefully lift from the people around him, more because he could than any real need to do it. Getting his pint, he nodded a thanks at the guy behind the bar, watching the till from the corner of his eye before he went back to the table. He knew the code to open it, could do it easily.

... He wasn't in the mood.

"Right, that's better."

[handel]

Looking up at him, expectantly.

Not a single word to pass from his lips, as he'd already laid his questions out bare. Now it was time for Jack to answer them in whatever order he would.

And not make the excuse of warm beer. In London, it all seemed warm to start with.

[artfuldawkins]

Jack looks back, poker faced.

"What?"

[handel]

An irate shuffle and a heaved sigh. Incorrigible, this one.

"Your love. What's so impossible about it?"

[artfuldawkins]

"Never said impossible, said nothing were goin' to happen," Jack said, taking a drink from his pint. Pip really did like to make things more dramatic than they had any right to be.

[handel]

The opposite of 'not going to happen' seemed like it should be 'possible', and possible seemed like the opposite of 'impossible', which... well, he didn't really see the linguistic difference, frankly. Jack was just a frustrating human being.

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, he'd give a small shrug.

"Well, all right. Have it your way. Why won't it happen, then? Have you told them outright how you feel about them?"

[artfuldawkins]

Jack had that odd feeling that things were always that bit simpler in Pip's head than they were in reality. If he hadn't said impossible, then it should be possible. He figured that Pip took not going to happen to mean impossible otherwise it would be possible. Nah, not always.

"Yeah. They know." There was a casual shrug. "Don't mean anything's going to happen. That's the whole 'unconditional' bit right there."

[handel]

"Oh... I see. Your feelings aren't returned then?" Things were as simple as they were complex in his mind.

Case and point: Estella said she could not love him back. He accepted this in his head, but not in his bone marrow, where loving her stuck too deep. He'd love her always and forgive her always, and it wasn't contingent on whether or not she returned those feelings. People said to let go, because being together was impossible. Her feelings made it impossible. But also impossible was letting go.

He couldn't fathom why people could tell you to do the impossible, then say those things which couldn't ever happen still were possible. Didn't it mean they understood why letting go wasn't an option?

"Or does some other object stand in your way?"

[artfuldawkins]

Jack did not answer either question, but instead simply raised his eyebrow as if silently asking Pip if he really thought he was going to get an answer that easily.

In one case his feelings were returned, in another they could never be returned. In another... well, who knew what was going on there. Frankly, it's all a bit mixed up in his own mind.

[handel]

Pip stared back, round-faced and round-eyed and not quite getting the need for silence. People rarely said what they meant, and more rarely still told the full story-- this, he understood about life now. Most people weren't like Herbert, filled with exuberant honesty that they handed out like daisies and often suffered for doing so. Most people were more reserved.

But he'd never really met someone who said nothing at all, and relied on body language so heavily, like Jack. He'd stare at that raised brow for a very long moment; too long, probably; before he realised Jack didn't intend on answering.

"...all right. And you are not simply able to just 'get over' them either, are you?" If Jack wouldn't talk about himself, then they could talk about their middle ground.

[artfuldawkins]

"No," he agreed, "but unlike you I ain't sitting around moonin' over 'em, am I?" He gave another look, hoping that this time it got through to Pip that was he was doing? Well, it weren't exactly what anyone could label as being good for him

[handel]

"Well how should I know? You don't say anything about it even when you're asking. You very well might be mooning over it, or doing some other thing about it that's equally bad, like pretending it doesn't hurt. And besides-- I do things other than just think of Estella."

Like. Learn how to dance, for Estella. And give away all of his money to Herbert without him knowing. And try not to piss of Jaggers.

All fantastic hobbies.

[artfuldawkins]

"An' how of what you do is motivated by what she might like?"