April 6th, 1888 - The Beasley's Flat

The alley cats hadn't been too thankful that Burt brought them only a few scraps from the previous night's supper, though he still garnered their attention enough to give them a good petting. He had ventured to them whilst waiting for Ray to return home and valued their company almost as much as he did a fair few of his brothers. Still, they couldn't replace Ray's fiery spirit, nor Rod's nuisance of a brain or Clay's adventurous spirit. Cole, on the other hand, may have been the odd one out, for Burt only turned to him to vent and confide in. The cats provided him a similar outlet, despite their lack of verbal participation.

After the last scrap had been thrown, Burt picked himself up and made his way back to the flat. Just as he had reached the door, he saw a sweaty Ray approaching and gave him a welcoming nod. "Hey Mr. Fists, how'd ya' make out?" Burt asked as he continued his pace into the building. No sooner had the words left his mouth did his nose pick up an awful stench, reminiscent of rotting cabbage and aged meat. "Oh Merlin, what in the hell is that?" The wizard exclaimed with a pinched nose. He turned to find Ray standing just before him, along with a more intense odor. "Seriously?" Burt knew Ray wasn't always the cleanliest of individuals given his profession, but this was just ridiculous.

Tag: Raymond Beasley

  

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It had proven to be a rather lucrative night all around. The occupants of the Augurey Cafe had been feeling particularly generous in their tipping and then he'd won all of his rounds boxing after he'd finished at work. As such, Ray had been in quite a good mood with a purse a great deal heavier than normal in his pocket. Of course, such good fortune didn't mean everything was great for Raymond Beasley. Such a busy night at the cafe meant a lot of running around which resulted in a great deal of sweat. Then boxing, well that was a whole other level of sweat. Not to mention the blood that was a result of good hits or the fact that the fights took place in back alleys with whatever sort of grime and mess imaginable. As a result, he was sure he stunk. He didn't ever seem to notice it though. Not until it was put so bluntly to him like the way Burt was in that moment.

"Shut up," he muttered as he fished a key from his pocket and unlocked the door to their loft so they could go inside, "It was a long night." He pulled the purse full of coins and tossed it onto the old table in their tiny kitchen. It landed with a loud thud and clank of the money inside. "And that" he said as he pointed to the purse on the table for emphasis, "Makes this worth it." He motioned to his dirty and stinky body as he said the last part.

  

Burt eyed the purse as it flung from his brother's hand onto the table. With one hand still occupied clenching his nose shut, he slowly walked to the table and jostled the bag in his free hand for a few moments. "Don't think anything's worth smellin' that," he jested, "Betcha' had everyone within 100 feet runnin' for their lives." A laugh escaped Burt's lips in the moment, leaving a wide smile in its wake. He threw the purse back onto the table and made his way to the bedroom where he hoped he could find a replacement of clothes for the man. In all honesty, he feared the smell would begin to seep into the walls and haunt them for the remainder of their lives. Perhaps that could have been the motivation he needed to move.

Burt grabbed a fresh shirt and a worn pair of slacks from his dilapidated wardrobe and, once back in the company of his brother, threw them at his head. "I coulda' brought you through the alley and attracted all the lone cats and dogs in the city. Would have been quite the sight." The wizard couldn't get over how bad the smell was still, though was slowly beginning to get used to it. This wasn't the first time Ray came home smelling rather awful, but this instance in particular just took the cake.

  

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Ray rolled his eyes before glaring at his brother's back as Burt walked down the small hall to their bedroom. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood," he called out as he pulled the grime covered shirt over the top of his head and made his way toward the sink. The shirt was beyond repair and even probably beyond cleaning so it went into the garbage near the sink.

He was scrubbing the grime on his arms off when Burt came back out and threw clean clothes at him. [b]"Going to help me bathe, too?" he asked with a quirked brow as he continued to dirty the water in the sink.

  

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Burt scoffed at his brother’s remark. He knew Ray to be more than capable of showing his physical skill at any given moment and hadn’t the desire to test his limits that night. He also knew that he would have to burn the trash in a back alley and scrub the house down—or get Rod to do it—before anyone was to have peace. ”Your rancid body’s the last thing I want to be touchin’ tonight. What is it that’s caused you to smell like that anyways? Did ya’ have a brawl under a horse’s arse?”

The image alone caused Burt to cackle. He figured his brother would be better off cloaking himself in some type of pleasant aroma all day. There must have been something to do that, right? Maybe some potion or even some type of spray. Perhaps he’d look around the market for something to do the trick, because this was just getting simply ridiculous.

  

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Ray turned from his scrubbing and focused quite the glare on his brother. "You're beginning to sour my mood, Burton," he warned. Using a brother's full first name was as much of a warning as Ray would ever give. Unless you were Rod. He rarely got a warning at all though the smug brat had learned not to get too mouthy with him anymore, not after the last time.

"And I couldn't tell ya," he said with a shrug as he grabbed a clean towel to begin drying himself off once he felt he'd washed away the majority of the mess that had stained his body, "They picked a right awful location this time. I don' ask questions though. A fight's a fight and if I can make money off it, thas all that matters."

  

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Perhaps it wasn't smart of Burt to continue his playful behavior, lest he wished a fist imprint plastered upon his cheek. In truth, the minor insults came from a place of concern. He knew ray was more than capable of handling himself, though at the same time there was some question as to whether he would show up at the end of the night or not. That fact alone prompted Burt to "visit with the cats" whenever Ray worked late so he would sooner whether his brother was okay. His cheerful disposition quickly changed to one of a more serious nature, though not without grunting in protest prior. "Guessing the other guy got out worse than you did," he spoke, in hopes of lightening the mood, "or guys, for that matter." In a more hushed tone, Burt mumbled "But I bet none of them smell as bad."

  

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Ray turned to look at his brother with a raised brow and a look that said "Do you even need to ask such a thing?" in regards to the other guys. Of course they'd come out looking much worse or he wouldn't have brought home such a hefty purse of coin. It was nights like that one that he was fairly certain he made more money than Rod. Unfortunately, he didn't have those kind of nights often.

The raised brow shifted to a glare as he twirled the towel in his hands up and snapped it at his brother with the intention of flicking him right on the ass. "I said to watch it, Burt," he said again, though with the typical usage of his brother's name and not his full first name it was clear he was falling back into their typical joking patterns.

  

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Of the various looks Ray often gave him, the sharp glare was one of the worst. It signified annoyance, frustration, and above all else the time to stop. Burt, while often someone who seeks peace in these sort of scenarios, hated to be so serious with his brothers. He had grown up with them for Merlin's sake and wasn't equipped with proper means to converse with them without prodding them with insults or joking about their success. This behavior was often reciprocated, much to the man's liking, but on some occasions, such as this, it was hard to tell if this reciprocation was out of good fun or actual anger.

This feeling quickly dispersed upon feeling the sharp pinch from the towel. He knew Ray would get out of that brawling mood at some point. "Hey now, who do you think you're messin' with?" He said with a grin as he darted towards the shirt his brother had recently discarded. "I got a deadly weapon here and I'm not afraid to use it." As the wizard gripped the bottom of the shirt, he immediately gagged and began coughing. "Might do me in before you, though," he choked out. His free hand moved to cover his nose as he inched closer to the brawler.

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Ray simply stared at his brother with a brow raised and an incredulous look. "You forget I was wearing that," he said, completely unphased by the smell of it. One eventually got used to the stench if they were wearing it. Besides, after years of fighting in dirty back alleys had probably desensitized him to awful smells.

He snapped at his brother with the towel again with a smirk. "Why don't you see to that shirt before you expire from it," he said as he wound the towel up for yet another attack, "That why I can finish cleaning myself up in peace unless you'd like to sleep with the smell in our room for the night.."

  

Shit. Burt had hoped the stench from the shirt had separated from his brother long enough for him to be affected by it. Unfortunately it hadn't. He threw it to the side and endured yet another flick from the cloth weapon Ray wielded. "Yeah? Think that's a good idea, do ya'?" He taunted as he quickly unsheathed his wand. "Let's see just how I deal with this." A quick swish of his wrist saw his wand flick at the disastrous shirt, which unfortunately blew up into what seemed like a million pieces. "Damned thing never works! Now it's all over the place!" Burt rushed from his brother to avoid another lashing and began to collect his mess. "Well I saw to it, didn't I?"

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Ray barked out a loud laugh as his brother's spell seemed to backfire and instead multiplied the shirt into a million little pieces. The towel got deposited now that he felt he was quite clean enough all while shaking his head with humor at his brother's dilemma. "Well then little brother," he said as he ruffled up his brother's hair as he moved to walk by, "I'll leave you to clean this mess you made up and I'm taking myself off to bed." With one last chuckle and shake of his head, he disappeared down the little hallway to go to the room he shared with Burt, intent on bed.

  

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