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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
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
He's very nice. And I like him a lot.
[ He sighs, and flops backwards onto the mattress, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. There's a very long laundry list of reasons why Viktor might not feel the same now - especially after everything he went through, and as much as he wants to indulge Jack right now, he doesn't want to repeat all of it. So, instead: ]
He doesn't like that I worry about him. You're both that way. But maybe I like worrying about you all.
[ He's teasing, but there's something half true about it. He doesn't like worrying, exactly. He likes feeling necessary, needed, wanted. He shouldn't have to feel this way. He has his faith and devotion, his near unfaltering belief that he is meant to be here. That should be enough.
But selfishly, he keeps wanting more. ]
no subject
Unless that guy was part bird, or something.
The smile fades gently off as Kyle continues, and his eyes duck down to his own hands. On the missing finger of his left, and he thinks for a hesitant moment about how to answer. )
I can't speak for Viktor. Maybe he's like me, or maybe his reasons are different, but it might be worth considering anyway, just in case it's something we have in common... It's not- it's not that I don't like the fact that you worry about me. I actually like it a lot. It's that I've never- my entire life, I've never had anybody worry about me and not make me feel like a burden for it. It's hard for me, sometimes, to remember that you care because you want to, not because you feel like you have to, or because I make you feel like I can't take care of myself. There's always a voice in the back of my head telling me that people- you, Jerry, people from back home, think I'm... too weak, or too crazy, or too broken to manage on my own.
( He frees a hand to kneed absently at the muscle above his prosthetic leg. That voice, the one in his head, it sounds a lot like Miller. )
I always have. Like, I've aggressively made it a point of pride that I can take care of myself, there's never been another choice, so... that's all it is. It's my own baggage getting in the way of knowing how to tell you I appreciate the fact that you're there. Just... so you understand.
no subject
I think I understand. [ he says after a long moment, closing his eyes. ] It helps.
[ To hear him explain it like that. Viktor and Jack's situations aren't identical, but there's a decent amount of overlap. And - ]
I've never had so many people worry about me, until I came here. [ Only Rousma truly cared what happened to him. It's not a wound to his pride like it might be for Jack and Viktor, though. He likes it too, sometimes. ]
I just want to be able to protect the places and people I care about.
[ Now that he has all of them. But maybe this is a reminder not to treat them like his charges. ]
no subject
Jack looks at Kyle. Really looks at him, and with a dark, solemn weight to his voice, says: )
So do I.
( That's why. That's why tonight happened. That's why he's been acting so fucking unhinged these last few weeks. He wants that so bad, more than anything, and he failed at it. Abysmally. All this training he's been doing, all this... danger that Kyle's worried about, danger that Jack could be to himself or others if he disassociates, if he becomes that nightmare-mode version of himself like in the alternate life they lived...
It all amounted to fucking nothing in the end, didn't it? It turns out, it turns out...
It's all pointless. It's a gimmick. It's for show. It's bullshit. He couldn't protect Sabine with it, he can't protect anyone. He's not powerful. He's nothing.
But this is a conversation that's maybe a little better suited for Yennefer. One that he should have sooner rather than later, since he owes her an apology.
It might seem like an abrupt change in subject, but it's tangentially related when he jumps tracks. )
Listen, I'm not- I'm not gonna do anything crazy like that again. I promise. You should focus on stuff with Viktor for a while. It seems like you guys are in a place where things are-- you know. Getting formative, and I think you could make each other- happier. Maybe you can do a better job than I did.
( At protecting them; at keeping his partner safe. He shifts and, after a beat, pushes himself to standing. )
I think I need to go apologize to Yennefer. She had to cover for me, and I know how much she hates Ambrose, so... I owe her that much. But I'll be back later, if you wanna...
( He shrugs.
You know. Coexist as real friends, in a way he hasn't been mentally present to do since they all got back. )
no subject
[ That's part of why he likes you, Jack.
The next sudden shift in topic gets a raised eyebrow. He almost interrupts when Jack says maybe you can do a better job than I did, his brow furrowing - but really he doesn't know what to say to that, and his mouth closes as Jack continues.
Kahlil sits up, pulling his knee to his chest and tilts his head, giving a wry smile. ]
Assuming she doesn't turn you into a toad, yeah.
[ They can do friend things later. He adds, after a moment of thought: ]
I would still be your friend if you were a toad.