12 Days of Liars

Christian was pretty good at moving dates around when he needed to. Back during his second year as Centurion, he was able to successfully postpone a drill check an entire two weeks. It played off pretty well at the time, and when the drill did come back, his Cohort nailed it. Christian suspected that Rinne would have ratted him out if she was Centurion at the time. Needless to say, Christian didn't meddle with dates like that anymore, except his birthday. Each year he would push his birthday forward exactly 12 days ahead, so that he would have his real birthday, and then 6 days later, would push it back. It was usually pretty transparent, with a few bugs. But Christian was okay with that, no one could punish him for meddling with his own birthday.

It was officially midnight, and as luck would have it, the same night he turned 18, there was no morning drill scheduled for the morning. He still had to wake up early, but he could stew on coffee in the morning in meetings instead of giving active orders. That in itself was a treat. He'd heard the name "The Tipsy Toga" plenty of times throughout the past nine years. He imagined, from the name, it would just be an old-style bar. Industrial lights, brown oak stools and tables. That wasn't the case when he walked in.

Christian knew right away that he was likely one of the few new bloomers here. After all, most kids his age were still finishing their time in the legion. Of course, if any soldiers were here, it would sadly be the ones from his Cohort. It hadn't occurred to him that the bar he walked into would be covered in flashing neon lights, accompanied by loud music and large crowds. Christian began to wonder, were daze training and crowd control lessons actually meant for combat or for this?

In a different world, Christian might have enjoyed the night life. But, that wasn't exactly something you wanted on your record on an officer. Especially one from Cohort Five. Of course, if someone as privileged as a Virgo were to do it, it would be excused in a heartbeat. Christian's thoughts continued to digress, as he navigated, finally, to the actual part that was the bar.

Surprisingly few familiar faces around, which was actually a good sight. Until he saw Remy, he hadn't seen her since she'd shown up with a wound on her back, a pretty nasty one. He didn't follow up on her, not yet, the situation wasn't a military one. Now was as good of a time as any though. He took the empty stool next to hers. For how crowded the place was, the bar itself wasn't.

"Hey." Christian greeted. "You know, the bar was here nine years ago too." Christian said, as a light-hearted joke. He didn't want to force the conversation as a means to talk about a past she didn't want to share though, and Christian knew for a fact, she didn't want to share. "Does this mean you're kicking around for a while?"

Christian figured it wasn't worth giving banter back about the age, even if she was joking. Christian dug out his ID, which he'd had to show at the door. Still, with some of the people of New Rome, you couldn't be too careful. "An officer getting caught trying to buy alcohol while underage would be on toilets for the rest of their time in the legion. Eighteen as of two and a half minutes ago." Christian boasted, though he kept his tone lightened, as the accomplishment was as simple as just not-dying. Everyone else in the room had done it longer than him. He placed his identification on the table for her.

"You made it out there on your own for nine years, so I'm sure you're more than qualified enough to make a career out of it." Christian gave a half-felt shrug to the thought. "Still, you're living a unique situation here. You might like how the other half lives. Being able to sleep at night without the fear of not waking up is my personal favorite." Christian flashed a smile at the comment. The world sucked. But at least it sucked equally for anyone who came in from outside.

"Can I have... anything that tastes good that won't leave me getting demoted tomorrow morning?" Christian left the spectrum up pretty broad. He'd never had a drop of alcohol, though that was because his duties didn't leave him the leeway to do so. All of his efforts outside of the legion went to securing Vicodin.

"I feel like I've had the responsibilities of an adult for half a decade now." Christian replied. Still, he picked up the shot, the color was black, he decided that it wasn't time to analyze it, though. He lifted the shot glass to his lips and poured back. The sensation was nice, and Christian finished it without a hitch. It wasn't until he was already into the middle of swallowing that the alcohol made itself apparent.

"Wooo!" Christian commented, his tastebuds were bitterly hit, though the shot still tasted good. He put the glass back on the table, and shot Remy a look of thankfulness yet confusion. "Pluto is a d*ck." Christian said, and then silently prayed that wouldn't come back to haunt him. People really did this every night?

Still, Christian couldn't help but want another drink. "Well, hopefully you'll leave on the terms that you can come back when you need to. Not a lot of people make it out there passed their teens, you did a damn good job." Christian complimented, his language was slightly out of season to how he usually kept it. "Speaking of damn good jobs, can I have another shot?"

"Yeah, for half a decade, that was my strategy in War Games. Then, once I hit my first promotion, they told me 'Roman's don't run.' Apparently, if your fighting stance isn't identical to Cohort One, then you're a disgrace to Rome." Christian finished the mini rant. It was helpful, being a legacy of Mercury, Christian was very light on his feet. Even in a 1 on 1 combat, it was an asset. Even still, all children of Mars and Bellona received the odds.

Christian gave a thankful nod to the shot, and once again, braced himself before downing it. This one, dare he say it, tasted blissful. A pleasant look appeared on the Centurions face. "Okay, there's-there's gotta be a full set, right? Gimme Jupiter." Christian requested, his tone was much less official now, and even off-key. "Hey, hey. I have a question for you. When you were out there, you ever hear of someone not far south, Mr. V?"

Christian's empathy and understanding weren't on point, but he realized something was off when Remy asked to talk to him out back. At first, his thoughts were that this was a red flag, but he dismissed them. How red could the flag really be? Christian pushed his stool back and stood on his feet, and suddenly an entirely new sensation came over him. His balance was off, and it freaked him out for a single moment, before he accepted that it was more humorous than serious.

"Absolutely." Christian replied. Thankfully, the way he walked wasn't much different. He followed Remy out back, and Christian could tell that alcohol maybe wasn't a good vice of choice. He wasn't kicking himself for mentioning the drug dealer, but for leaving the shot behind. "What's up?" Christian asked, as though everything was solid.

The sudden confrontation caused Christian to back down from any dominant position he might have had. His eyes averted from the older Roman, he wasn't ready for another person to hit him with the fact that they'd figured it out. Not that he made it hard this time. What was he thinking?

"I'm good." Christian said, adjusting his eyes back to her. "Just a routine thing, it's not a big deal." He said, but he was pretty sure she would be able to see right through it. She wasn't stupid, Remy had been outside the walls for almost a decade. She had seen what life was life outside, and even if it was ugly, this was part of it.

"You know, I know you died." Christian said. "I know you died, but I respect and trust you enough to know that whatever happened, it was done for the right reasons."

Christian didn't exactly have excuses ready, especially not for someone who could call him out on them. The next best thing was the truth. "There's nothing I'd love more than to not have to live my life on a leash." Christian said. In truth, these were feelings he wished he could get out for so long, but, who could he tell? "It's not fun having to sneak off to get a fix so that I can continue to function. Drills, combat exercises, Senate meetings, the times don't segregate. When I need it, I need it." Christian was willing to admit it, if there was no talking the gravity of the situation down.

"But now isn't the time. This time next year, someone else will lead Cohort Five and my hands won't be tied." Christian knew how that would sound. 'Give me a year and I'll have quit' didn't sound too convincing. "The girl who taught me everything, got me where I am, who I seriously owe everything to? Her mom was addicted. Same sh*t."

Christian dug a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it to Remy. Good a time as any to pay for the drinks. "If I was to ask for help I let everyone that I've ever come in contact with down. Everyone. My co-Centurion, my Praetors, my Optios and Legionnaires. Right now, help just isn't an option."

"The thing is, there's no one I love left." Christian said blankly. All he could offer was a shrug with that. "It's not sad, or anything like that, it's just how things ended up being. Sometimes you just can't control life, and life decided that I was going to leave my abusive parents behind and take some pills when I was a little kid, and that I just wouldn't get the balls to say anything until I was just too deep in it."

"Now, the closest I do have to people who I love? They can't know. If they know, everything goes wrong, Remy, seriously, everything." Christian's tone became dead serious. He needed her to understand how strong he felt. "I could get sent on combat tasks in less then eight hours if they need me to, and I could just die." Christan moved his hand, and snapped his fingers. "Just like that. If that happened, and everyone knew what I did? That would be all I left behind. I can't do that. If all I've ever done is contribute to this, and that becomes literally nothing, then all I've ever done is nothing."