puΗsuΚoΚ ΚΙΙΙΎ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stations) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2024-05-12 06:31 pm
stations) wrote in abraxaslogs2024-05-12 06:31 pm
πΏππβπ‘π π€πππ ππ’πππ π¦ππ’ βπππ (open.)
Who: Jack Townsend & Others.
When: Post-Event.
Where: Thorne, the Horizon, Nocwich.
What: a catch-all for open & closed starters that take place after the event wrap-up.
Warnings: bigly angst, such dramatic, depression, themes of grief and loss, mental illness, possibly some violence.
πβππ π¦ππ’ π‘ππ¦ π¦ππ’π πππ π‘, ππ’π‘ π¦ππ’ πππ'π‘ π π’πππππ
πβππ π¦ππ’ πππ‘ π€βππ‘ π¦ππ’ π€πππ‘, ππ’π‘ πππ‘ π€βππ‘ π¦ππ’ ππππ
πβππ π¦ππ’ ππππ π π π‘ππππ, ππ’π‘ π¦ππ’ πππ'π‘ π ππππ
ππ‘π’ππ ππ πππ£πππ π
π΄ππ π‘βπ π‘ππππ ππππ π π‘πππππππ πππ€π π¦ππ’π ππππ
πβππ π¦ππ’ πππ π π ππππ‘βπππ π¦ππ’ πππ'π‘ πππππππ
πβππ π¦ππ’ πππ£π π ππππππ, ππ’π‘ ππ‘ ππππ π‘π π€ππ π‘π
πΆππ’ππ ππ‘ ππ π€πππ π?
When: Post-Event.
Where: Thorne, the Horizon, Nocwich.
What: a catch-all for open & closed starters that take place after the event wrap-up.
Warnings: bigly angst, such dramatic, depression, themes of grief and loss, mental illness, possibly some violence.
πβππ π¦ππ’ πππ‘ π€βππ‘ π¦ππ’ π€πππ‘, ππ’π‘ πππ‘ π€βππ‘ π¦ππ’ ππππ
πβππ π¦ππ’ ππππ π π π‘ππππ, ππ’π‘ π¦ππ’ πππ'π‘ π ππππ
ππ‘π’ππ ππ πππ£πππ π
π΄ππ π‘βπ π‘ππππ ππππ π π‘πππππππ πππ€π π¦ππ’π ππππ
πβππ π¦ππ’ πππ π π ππππ‘βπππ π¦ππ’ πππ'π‘ πππππππ
πβππ π¦ππ’ πππ£π π ππππππ, ππ’π‘ ππ‘ ππππ π‘π π€ππ π‘π
πΆππ’ππ ππ‘ ππ π€πππ π?
no subject
Finished.
He had one chance to hold onto it, and he failed at that.
But that's a batshit insane thing to say out loud to another person, it's absolutely an insane thing to think, and he knows Kyle's just trying to comfort him, so he offers what he can. A small, slightly noncommittal: )
Yeah, maybe.
( He doesn't think so, though. Now that he can see through the fog of denial, now that these weeks have passed, now that all of his energy has left him in one violent explosion at Ambrose Rhett, holding on to delusion feels like it costs more than Jack can give.
The weight of that sinks in.
He presses his fingers to his eyelids, and speaks with them slowly rubbing circles over the skin. Focus on this, not that. )
I, um- ( He works to clear his throat, suddenly thick. ) I really am sorry. For how I've been acting, ever since we got back. I know I've been an asshole, and really... selfish. I'm sorry I pushed you.
no subject
Knowing - or at least vaguely understanding what Sabine was, Kahlil can't imagine she is gone in the same permanent way that Jack believes her to be.
But he knows better than to say that right now.
He shakes his head when Jack apologies. ]
You're not very strong. [ This he says with a small shrug. It wasn't like Jack hurt him physically. He frowns at him, looking mildly chastised himself. ]
I'm sorry for hauling you back here.
[ For causing him to shove him in the first place. ]
no subject
It's fine, that's not the point. He doesn't actually have enough pride left to his name for it to sting all that much. His dignity all died off over the course of the last five or six years, he's a withered husk with hardly any ego left. )
It's okay.
( He says, a breathy exhale of fatigue more than proper words. )
I get why you did it. I didn't really love getting manhandled, but... I know you were just trying to help, and I know you've got your own... stuff you're probably dealing with, after everything. You shouldn't have to deal with mine on top of it. I don't want you to feel like my mental state is your responsibility to manage, but I feel like I've- I put you in this position where you feel obligated to, and that sucks. I just- want you to know that I'm not your problem, and you don't have to worry about me. I'm not gonna- you know.
( Hurt anyone. Hurt himself. Do anything else stupid, after today's stupendous failure. Flip like a switch and pull a box cutter out on someone. )
no subject
He doesn't acknowledge the mention of his own issues. Jack lost Sabine, his own problems are silly and honestly of his own making compared to what Jack's going through. He should be better are separating everything, and not getting so frustrated. ]
I'm your friend. I think if I was that low, you'd do the same for me. [ Something similar, anyway. With less physical dragging. He shrugs. He doesn't want Jack to feel bad that his friends are looking out for him. ]
And I know you have Jerry now, but - I think you both need an outside opinion, sometimes.
[ Kahlil has done many reckless things in his life. Somehow none are nearly as absurd as what Jerry and Jack get up to. ]
no subject
What, you mean we're not a tag-team duo of rationality and good decision-making?
( This is why they have Rosa and O'Brien to balance them out. Those two contain all the compassion, emotional intelligence, common sense, and grounded logic. Jack and Jerry, when combined, sometimes just make up the human equivalent of the word yeet. Between the two of them, Jack is usually the more stable voice of reason, but when shit hits the fan and he's in Rampage Mode? All bets are off. He is aware of this. Kyle is absolutely right. Absolutely fair assessment. )
no subject
[ Kahlil grins openly, shaking his head. He looks down at his hands for a moment, then gives Jack a sidelong glance. ]
I'll show you something, if you promise not to get mad.
[ Kahlil doesn't think it'll actually make Jack mad, but he's not sure how he'll react to the scar. ]
no subject
Fortunately for them both, he's distracted almost immediately. )
I'm fresh out of mad for a while, I think. Probably.
( Which is not a promise at all, but hopefully it's enough encouragement to continue anyway. )
no subject
Here - look. [ He says this quickly, angling his back toward him, pointing with one hand at the opposite shoulder where a large scar starts and wraps around his shoulder blade. It looks eerily like a pattern of moths, a cloud of them, etched into his skin like acid marks. Not pretty, but not quite ugly either.
Jack should recognize where this came from, the night he nearly destroyed Lucifer. ]
I can't get a good look at them - [ obviously ] - but I think sometimes they... move.
[ Whenever he looks away, it seems like they're in a slightly different position. ]
no subject
Here, now, he's not sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. The very clear trail of moths staining Kyle's skin, less a tattoo and more a scar.
He can feel his stomach sinking, a horrifying rush of guilt. A flashback to being a preteen in a trailer, and cigarette burns. )
Oh, fuck. Shit, is that- did I do that to you?!
no subject
It's fine - I don't remember it too well. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't crazy.
[ Imagining them moving around in the corner of his eye whenever he glanced away in the mirror.
He will now, actually, notice the back of Jack's neck, a hint of color just above his collar - he points without touching. ]
What's that?
no subject
No wonder Kyle didn't want to leave him in the library. No wonder he worries. No wonder he's afraid.
You're not crazy, he starts to say β only to stop himself when Kyle reaches out.
Dumbly, Jack turns to follow the direction of Kyle's hand, looking behind him. )
What's what?
( It takes a little Three-Stooges bullshit for him to realize Kyle's actually pointing to his neck, and he raises up a hand to rub at what feels like perfectly ordinary, flat skin. )
I- I don't know, actually. What is it?
( Another moth. Bigger than Kyle's, and in realistic color, perfectly perched flush against his skin. If he stares long enough, maybe... maybe the wings twitch, just a little. Maybe it's a trick of the light. )
i'm sorry for this lmao
Take your shirt off.
[ They are just two friends, fresh off a weeks long cold shoulder, taking their shirts off to look at strange scars and tattoos from a month long sleep where they dreamed about being gods.
This is their life now. ]
no subject
What is it?!
( They've undressed in front of one another before, of course, in their months of sharing a room before Sabine arrived. Rarely ever did it involve much scrutiny on either person's part, so maybe the array of scars on Jack's own back will be a new sight for Kyle. They're much different, though, than the war-wounds and battle scars Kyle wears. They're far older and more inconsistent, ranging from short cut-scars to small burn circles to places where bone once broke through skin.
It doesn't occur to him to be self-conscious of any of it. Maybe some holdover memories from those eight hundred years linger in the back of his mind, or maybe his brain's just only capable of carrying so much stress at one time and it's currently at max. )
no subject
He's looking away when Jack half shouts his question, looking like a dog chasing his own tail to get a glimpse of the tattoo that runs down his neck and across his back. Kahlil lets out a breath, walking over to him to clasp him by both shoulders and gently turn Jack around, so that he can see his own back in the mirror. ]
There.
[ It's pretty, actually. The shape matches the moths on his shoulder, albeit larger in size. He keeps his hands on Jack's shoulders while he examines himself. ]
no subject
A little frown settles at his lips, a tiny furrow in his brow as he stares at it, conflicted. Eventually, his own arms lower, and his shoulders ease from a bit of their tension. Unlike their rocky relocation from the library a few weeks ago, he doesn't shrug Kyle's hands off.
It's... not so bad.
After a beat, he manages: )
I guess I did it to myself, too.
( He wonders if Jerry has one that matches. He wonders if Sabine--
Nope. We're not thinking about that. )
I don't remember- I mean. I didn't... realize I did it. To either of us.
no subject
Jerry has one too. [ He answers the unspoken question with a wry look. ] A butterfly right above his ass.
[ He does not know the term 'tramp stamp'. Rooming together, he's seen it a few times these weeks, but he hadn't realized the larger significance until he saw Jack's just now.
Truthfully, the strange, cursed marks across the back of his shoulder bothered Kahlil when he first noticed them, especially when he started to notice they would shift across his skin. He frowns, looking down at another tattoo just below his chest, the simple, dotted, serpent-like creature marked on his skin in red. He doesn't remember getting that one either, because he didn't - it belonged to Ravishan. ]
no subject
He turns away from the mirror, away from the sight of himself, to look at Kyle again. They're both slender, but while Jack may have okay muscle definition at his shoulders and biceps from too many months of digging and crutches, he's got absolutely nothing on Kyle. He'd be self-conscious or jealous, maybe, if he were the type inclined toward either.
That's not what he's paying attention to, anyway. It's the trail of moths, at first β and then the distracting serpent. He reaches out β not to touch, exactly; his fingertips stop short just an inch or two away, but it's clear what he's pointing at. )
Hey, you never told me the story about that one. It doesn't seem-
( -like your style; he doesn't finish the comment. What the hell does he know? He's terrible at people, aesthetics, and tattoos. Maybe it's exactly Kyle's jam, but... he doesn't really think so. )
no subject
His brow furrows at Jack as he trails off, and when he doesn't finish his thought Kahlil simply shrugs. ]
It's not mine. I got my Prayerscars - [ he closes his eyes and points at his eyelids, though he doesn't summon the tattoos. ] - Ravishan got this. [ a nod at the serpent. ]
It's the mark of the rebels. He must have gotten it when he followed John and joined them against the church.
[ Jath'ibaye has a matching one. He frowns to himself again, looking at his abdomen. ]
Half these scars technically aren't mine, they're his. [ From the point their histories split. ]
no subject
Getting his own repressed memories back. The ones that don't feel like they belong to him. The ones that belong to that much more violent other version of himself. Is that what it's like for Kyle? Having those forced back into his head, seeing things he doesn't remember doing, feeling the guilt or accountability or loss that isn't exactly his own but isn't not his own, either?
After a quiet, reflective moment, his hand falls away. )
I think I get it.
( He says softly, and then ducks his head on his trek back over to the bed where his crumpled shirt lays forgotten. He's not exactly the body displaying type, so now that his curiosity's satisfied, he's eager to put it back on. )
If you could... if you could go back and pick... which one would you rather have?
( Between the two choices, the two paths. The Prayerscars, or the rebellion? )
suicidal-ish ideation
Jack goes to put his shirt back on and Kahlil watches him for a few seconds before walking to the bed to retrieve his own. It gives him time to think of how to answer this question. He's been asked it once or twice before, and given the answer he felt he needed to say aloud. Not a lie, but not all of the truth. ]
My sister survived in my own timeline. [ He saved her, and that was the catalyst for everything falling apart, and how he ended up where he did in the end. His mouth forms a thin line as he pulls his arms through the sleeves of the shirt, his back turned to Jack. ]
She dies, in the one I came from. [ Buried in a coffin of rubble, with the rest of the Oracles, the priest, the nuns... ]
I wish - I wish neither me or her had to go through what we did. And I know that I was meant to have this life, and not his. I don't want to be jealous of a dead man. But I am, sometimes.
[ Ravishan's life was short, but he was loved. He was a good man. It feels horribly selfish to admit any of this, especially because of his sister - but that doesn't make it any less true. ]
no subject
He's not envious of Kyle. He's not envious at all about having to live through any of that.
With his shirt finally on, he moves to carefully settle on the edge of the foot of the bed, his elbows planting gently on his knees, watching Kyle's back as he talks. He's quiet for a moment after, and then carefully volunteers a truth, to even them out. )
After... the accident, Sabine was in a coma for five years. She- dreamed this entire... alternate life for us. We got married. We had a kid. After she died, I- I got to live those memories, for a while. I got to see what it was like, to be that guy. We had a son.
( That last one-- that one... that one hurt to lose, when he remembered who he was. When he remembered who he wasn't. When he forgot his son's name, because he never had a name, because he was never really there.
It hurts now, realizing that even if he wanted to make that reality come true... he can't anymore. She's dead. )
If I can be jealous of a man that never actually existed, I think you're okay to be jealous of a dead one. I think you're completely valid for it, actually.
no subject
He still cannot fathom the idea of children. He barely remembers his own parents, what he does remember is from the end and too ugly for him to want to think about. He knows they must have loved him and his sister, though. He has seen parents sacrifice for their children, to protect them in the conflict in his own world. But for Jack, at least, he thinks he can understand the weight of it. Jack did not have parents who would sacrifice for him. There is little from that childhood he would want to pass on to a son.
He can't imagine what it is like to believe you have a child, to love another life that you created, and to find out it was all a lie. And now, with Sabine gone - to believe that life isn't possible anymore, he hurts for Jack. ]
It helps, to hear that. [ he starts slowly. It helps to be told it's okay to want something he doesn't deserve, that it's normal. He turns to sit on the bed next to Jack again, still looking toward the tall mirror now at the other side of the room. ]
You must have been a great father. [ Even if it wasn't real. ] It's not fair.
[ For Jack. Maybe for himself, too. ]
no subject
He doesn't want to focus on that, or think about it β and beyond that, he's not so sure he'd make a great father in actuality. He barely makes a single functioning human being by himself. He's not sure he could be trusted to keep a pet alive, let alone a child.
It just -
It doesn't matter. None of that is what's important. )
You're right. It's not fair. Not for her, not for me, and not for you β or your sister. Or John. It sucks. It sucks that you didn't get a real choice, and it sucks that I left that mark on you without you getting a say in it, and it sucks you had to deal with- all of this, on top of everything. I really am sorry. I wanna do better, so if- if there's something you want to talk about, or- anything I can do to help you deal with your stuff, please tell me.
( God, it would help so much to be able to focus on somebody else for a little while. It really would. )
no subject
He hadn't misunderstood Jack's intention for telling him that detail, but as Jack finishes talking he understands how his response had been wrong, to turn the focus back on his friend. He could tell Jack he doesn't really care about another mark on his body, except that maybe it's unnerving how it seems to move on its own. But that's not what Jack wants to hear from him either, so he says nothing for a long moment, still staring forward. ]
I'm meeting Viktor tomorrow in Nocwich. We spoke when we got back from the crater, but this will be the first time since then. [ Jack might remember some of what Kahlil vaguely explained to him in the false future about the time he spent in the Free Cities, before he came back to Thorne for the rebellion. How they were together, and how he had ended up parting ways with Viktor, in the end. He wouldn't have been very specific. His mouth twists, and he cracks an index finger under his thumb. ]
I'm nervous to see him again.
[ He quickly shoots Jack a hopeless look, like do you REALLY want to do this? It seems stupid to talk about at all, given everything else Jack is dealing with right now. ]
no subject
He remembers some of the details about Kyle and Viktor. He remembers, vaguely, their falling in together, and then their falling out from one another. Their love, and their issues β the latter of which may matter less now, now that they're all in their right minds, now that they're themselves again.
Maybe they have a real shot. Maybe they could be happy together.
Jack offers his friend an encouraging smile, and nudges Kyle's shoulder with his own. Yes, he really wants to do this, thank you. He's not good at, like, gossip and smalltalk and stuff, but it's still helpful. )
Why are you nervous? He's not gonna be, like, Plankton's wife or anything anymore. He seems nice. From what little I've talked to him, anyway.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)