stations: (sabine)
puǝsuʍoΚ‡ ΚžΙ”ΙΙΎ ([personal profile] stations) wrote in [community profile] abraxaslogs2024-05-12 06:31 pm
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πΏπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘π‘  𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑒𝑖𝑑𝑒 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ β„Žπ‘œπ‘šπ‘’ (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.

π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘¦ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑑, 𝑏𝑒𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œπ‘›'𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑒𝑑
π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑔𝑒𝑑 π‘€β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘, 𝑏𝑒𝑑 π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ π‘€β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑
π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 π‘ π‘œ π‘‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘, 𝑏𝑒𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘›'𝑑 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝
π‘†π‘‘π‘’π‘π‘˜ 𝑖𝑛 π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’
𝐴𝑛𝑑 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘‘π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘  π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ π‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘šπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘œπ‘€π‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘“π‘Žπ‘π‘’
π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘’ π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘›'𝑑 π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘π‘’
π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘™π‘œπ‘£π‘’ π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘œπ‘›π‘’, 𝑏𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑑 π‘”π‘œπ‘’π‘  π‘‘π‘œ π‘€π‘Žπ‘ π‘‘π‘’
πΆπ‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ 𝑖𝑑 𝑏𝑒 π‘€π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’?

Page 1 of 9

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only
stations: (079)

π‘π‘Žπ‘ π‘‘π‘™π‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘›π‘’.

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-12 10:42 pm (UTC)(link)
stations: (55)

π‘›π‘œπ‘π‘€π‘–π‘β„Ž.

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-12 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
stations: (rename11)

π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ β„Žπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘§π‘œπ‘›.

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-12 10:44 pm (UTC)(link)
stations: (59)

ᴑᴇᴇᴋ 1 β€” ᴅᴇɴΙͺα΄€ΚŸ & α΄…Ιͺsα΄€ssᴏᴄΙͺα΄€α΄›Ιͺᴏɴ

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-12 10:59 pm (UTC)(link)
( He'd been in something of a fugue state as the hallucination faded; dreamy, disassociated, detached and confused. It wasn't hard for Jerry to coax him from the singularity, or for Kyle to lead him away from the crater. Only by technical definition could he even be considered awake, vaguely responsive, largely quiet.

A few hours later, when the first bits of conscious thought began to trickle in and he began to wake up, the first thing he'd said was: )

Where's Sabine?

( Nobody could tell him. The guards hadn't seen her. His fellow summoned couldn't find her. The first true trickling of anxiety began to kick in sometime after joining the discussion unfolding across their shared network. The longer the conversation went on, the worse the anxiety became β€” to the point that he eventually shut it off entirely, pushing it out of his mind's eye and refusing to read anymore.

It's fine. It's still early. Sabine's timetable is always a little off-center from most people's; she's a creature not exactly bound by the linear constraints of the passage of time. She's just a little late, or something. It's fine, and the less he thinks about it, the better off he'll be.

So he doesn't follow up with Jerry's request to hang out, and he doesn't hunt down Kyle to help with the manufactured emergency he's almost sure Kyle isn't having. He doesn't go back to his room, where he's sure they'd look for him.

Instead, he goes to a secluded corner of the library with his journal and a pen, and he proceeds start writing. Uninterrupted, he will continue writing without stopping for hours, pausing only briefly to concede to biological demands like bathroom breaks or water intake, and then it's write back to furious, intent writing. Without intervention, he'll do this for the better part of a week nonstop until someone tells him to go take a fucking shower or something, and then he'll be right back to it. )
Edited 2024-05-12 23:12 (UTC)
stations: (80)

ᴑᴇᴇᴋs 2-3 β€” α΄œΙ΄α΄˜Κ€α΄‡α΄…Ιͺα΄„α΄›α΄€Κ™ΚŸα΄‡ ᴍᴀɒΙͺα΄„

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-12 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
( After a full week of writing, Jack runs out of words rather abruptly. His sentence ends, and he's left staring down at more pages than he cares to count, full of his consistent sloppy scrawl, and he feels... bereft. Completely mentally empty of prose, and at a complete loss for what to do next.

Here, he begins to transition into a different state of denial. It's less that he's deluding himself into believing his girlfriend is coming back, and more that he's steadfastly refusing to think about it, because once the floodgates come down, they're going to come down hard. He knows it.

And so he finds other ways to swallow his time. He returns to classes with Istredd and Yennefer. He pushes them longer, and harder, and even when their class time is over he practices. Furiously, aggressively practices. Toward the end of the third week, that denial begins to look like something a lot better resembling anger.

Psychic shielding in the middle of the dining hall. Pulling memories from the people around him, immersing himself in them, and learning to control pulling himself out of them again. Transferring energy out of himself, funneling it into others and then reeling it back in again. It might make the magic people around him are practicing unpredictable, spell effects might be stronger than their practitioners are anticipating, psychics may feel his presence or the great void of his absence as his shields strengthen too hard.

When he's not intently practicing, he's disassociating more than usual. Slipping into that dreamlike fugue state where he's barely conscious is an escape, and it helps β€” but it also means he's not in full control over his tendency to manifest things into reality. Things may warp, or appear suddenly in his proximity. He may borrow glimpses from your character's memories, and hallucinate them into being. Familiar faces, or plants, or art, or small creatures may show up unexpectedly β€” particularly if they're something from a nightmare. )
Edited 2024-05-12 23:11 (UTC)
stations: (111)

ᴑᴇᴇᴋs 4-5 β€” ʀᴀɒᴇ α΄€Ι’α΄€ΙͺΙ΄sα΄› α΄›Κœα΄‡ α΄α΄€α΄„ΚœΙͺɴᴇ (closed)

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-12 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
( After Jerry and Kyle disrupted Jack's infallible strategy of detaching from reality in the library for the rest of forever, it's like things began to shift internally. Like energy began to build from the moment he stepped foot back in reality, mounting in his chest, an anxious kind of pressure, ever-growing and expanding, expectant, waiting for him to act.

It's easier to be angry than sad. It's easier to think that he has any kind of control over this situation, and for a small voice in the back of his head to reprimand him for not doing something about it. Like maybe, if he just puts in enough work, enough effort, if he demands hard enough, if he uses magic, if he tries, he can get her back. His agitation grows with every passing day that he doesn't act on the impulse.

He isolates himself a little from his friends. Two or so weeks pass without him attending classes with either Yennefer or Istredd. He doesn't reach out to Kyle, or to Cassian, and only sees Jerry because Jerry insists on hovering.

When he overhears about a very important, urgent sudden meeting between Ambrose and a handful of other staff members just days before the summoning, it's like everything clicks suddenly into place. The universe has given him an opportunity, and he knows exactly what he needs to do.

But he needs help to do it.

And so, for the first time in weeks, Jack seeks Jerry out first. There's a new determination in his movements, a new sense of purpose in his eyes, and when Jerry offers him some soup Jack immediately swats it away. Except, he swats a little too hard, and it goes crashing to the ground. )

β€”shit, sorry, I didn't actually mean to do that, that was a total accident. Listen- this is more important than soup. I need a distraction. A big one. I need to get into a meeting room, and to do that I need you to keep the guards away for a few minutes. Think you can handle it?
Edited 2024-05-23 21:15 (UTC)
stations: (54)

α΄œΙ΄α΄˜Κ€α΄‡α΄…Ιͺα΄„α΄›α΄€Κ™ΚŸα΄‡ ᴍᴀɒΙͺα΄„ & ʟΙͺᴍΙͺΙ΄α΄€ΚŸ sα΄˜α΄€α΄„α΄‡

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-12 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
( For nearly two consecutive years, the Horizon has been home to a peculiar domain. This in and of itself is not saying much; many domains are peculiar, and many have been here as long or longer than the Gas Station. Other domains may be larger, or more impressive, or more surreal, but even still... anybody who sets foot on it can tell on some innate, instinctive level that there is something off about the place.

In reality, the Gas Station sits atop a dimensional rift in space and time. It's a crossroads, a trash can, a dumping ground. A nexus point for many universes intersecting, a place horrors of reality go when they need a quick place to rest, restock, and refuel. Maybe it's possible that because Jack carries so many thousand lifetimes of that void rift energy in his body, some of it has settled at the source of his domain just like its real life counterpart.

Or maybe it's just weird because all the snack food is off-brand and spelled just slightly wrong.

Despite all that, it's not entirely unpleasant here, usually. It's a nice touchstone for people from the right world and the right time period on earth to appreciate it for what it is, to go through those normal motions of filling up their gas tanks, of buying cheap alcohol, of eating artificial cheese.

In the weeks following the mass summoned godhood hallucination, though, something about the place seems... worse. It's perpetually nighttime. A new creature can be spotted occasionally by the dumpster, hiding just outside of the streetlamp view β€” a man in a blue raincoat, but with proportions ever so slightly off. His arms are too long, his hands too wide, his face obscured by a gas mask. When spotted, he slinks behind the metal bin and peers out from somewhere in the periphery. Inside, the interior too-bright halogen lights flicker periodically. The aisles feel a little too long, the shelves too crowded. The lawn gnomes stare too intently at anyone who ventures in.

It feels unwelcoming, and so does the presence behind the cash register. When Jack disassociates or slips into his dream states, sometimes they carry him to the Horizon. Sometimes he blinks, and realizes that he's sitting on his stool staring down at a book, and he cannot remember where he'd been out in the real world a minute prior.

Some of the same effects from out there carry over β€” the accidental manifesting of other people's memories into reality, pulling nightmares from unwitting passers-by and planting them in the room. Sometimes he funnels energy into others, causing their magics and their spells to react strangely. Sometimes he is a heavy psychic presence, and other times as he reinforces his shields he feels like a vacancy, a void.

Should you happen to swing by the restroom, the ghostly spectre of the bathroom cowboy sits perched atop a sink holding a violin, which weeps a gentle and haunting tune. All is not well in the Gas Station. )
stations: (088)

ɴᴏᴄᴑΙͺα΄„Κœ ᴑᴇᴇᴋᴇɴᴅ β†’ α΄ Ιͺᴋᴛᴏʀ

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-12 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
( Boy, it sure has been a series of weeks, hasn't it? From the return to normalcy after eight hundred years of whatever the fuck that was, to a little bit of grieving on Jack's part, to attempting to disrupt the entire system and almost getting himself thrown in prison for some very serious mistakes he'd been totally down to make β€” also on Jack's part β€” it's kind of a wonder any of them have recovered enough to actually go to Nocwich this weekend.

The change of scenery is nice, though. Getting a break from Thorne, which he maybe slightly kind of still wants to burn to the ground a little bit right now. Getting out of his room. Plus, he promised Viktor a book! And he's here to deliver.

It's the same place they'd met the first time around, about Jack's leg. Just easier to orient that way. Fortunately for them both, the slightly horny vampire from that first meeting is nowhere to be seen this time. Jack waits patiently with his own manifested mug of coffee, and with three books stacked on the table in front of him. )
Edited 2024-06-09 13:59 (UTC)
thedevilwhorose: (Default)

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2024-05-13 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
[He gets the confirmation from Istredd. The guards double-checked the crater.

Lucifer can put two and two together and know what the end result will eventually be, and he isn't going to wait for that trainwreck to come knocking, he'll head it off, whatever that may look like.

Lucifer doesn't want to be here. Doesn't want to be back. Doesn't want Thorne, this vessel, this cage within a cage. He's been practically crawling up the walls, a hissing cat that needs to be let out and he just hates everything.

But in the end he took a look at his brother, and made Istredd wake up from that reality with him.

In the end he chose this.

And he's got a lot he has to figure out from here, Michael being on the top of that list, bold letters, Sharpied underlining.

He finds Jack. For as aggressive, and sarcastic, and nasty to Jack as he has been in both realities, Lucifer is holding himself very loosely, arms at his sides, hands visible, his expression nearly passive, open. His voice almost soft, accepting.

He's expecting the worst.] Alright. Go ahead. You're going to blame me, right? Take it out on me? [Because she's gone. Sabine is gone. And once upon a time in a fake reality Lucifer went at her to effect Jack. So of course he must be the villain here, too.]
stations: (53)

content warning: suicidal ideation

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-13 01:42 am (UTC)(link)
( Ah, there he is, that motherfucker.

Lucifer finds him at the tail end of week three, when Jack's denial has begun to give way. When the reality of it has begun to set in, and the energy has begun to fill his bones. He's full of power, he knows this now. He's made of energy, of magic. Under his fingernails are splinters, the urge to do something about it. An aggressive, unrestful impulse he can't find an outlet for.

No amount of training satisfies it.
No amount of sitting in his empty room, concentrating until beads of sweat drip down between his shoulder blades as he tries to force her into existence amounts to anything at all.
And he keeps thinking... maybe he should just go straight to the source. Maybe he should make them bring her back. No matter how many times he dismisses the thought, it just keeps circling around in his head, and the fact that he hasn't yet leaves him feeling guilty, and his guilt makes him angry.

Every second she's gone, he feels angrier. It's fucking unfair, and once upon a time he might've put a gun in his mouth about it, but it's fucking infuriating because he knows now that he absolutely can't do that. He knows better this time.

The fact that he has to go through all of this again? Is complete, utter, fucking, absolute, god damn, motherfucking unfair bullshit, and he wants someone to blame other than himself.

It hasn't occurred to him yet that he'd already started associating that feeling to Lucifer.

But why not, right? Couldn't it be his fault? Maybe whatever Lucifer did to her made her β€” weaker. Maybe it made her more susceptible to the whims of the Singularity, maybe it made her want to leave. Maybe he weakened her tether, and it snapped when they all came back. Maybe it could be his fault. Just looking at him makes Jack's jaw set, makes his teeth clench until they hurt.

He wants, more than anything, in a sparkling flint of rage, to hurt Lucifer in the way that he has always been good at hurting people, but refused to let himself remember.

But those memories aren't repressed anymore, and neither is he.

So before things can get carried away, before he lets himself snap, he simply says: )

Get the fuck out.
thedevilwhorose: Β» hallucination (how could you notice?)

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2024-05-13 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
What, so you can find me later? [His cadence is still easy-going, feather-light.] Should I create some business hours for you? But sure, I can leave. [He spreads his palms in a facsimile of a shrug.] I just figured I'd make this easier for you. No searching this way.
stations: (28)

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-13 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
( Jack doesn't remember standing up, but man, he really does have to thank Viktor again, because it must have been easy to find his feet. He realizes a second after the sound that the loud bang echoing through the room must have been the back of the chair hitting the stone floor with some force.

Would he have tracked Lucifer down later? Maybe, but fuck him for assuming, either correctly or incorrectly. Fuck him for having the audacity to exist. Fuck him for being right here, right now, and fuck him for being so cavalier about it. )

Dude, why are you really here? What is this? Is this some- fucked up pity party, are you looking for somebody to victimize you right now, so you can go cry about how you're always the villain, and life's so unfair, and boo-hoo your story, boo-hoo you? Does it make you feel better, somehow? Like you can invalidate all the shit you actually do wrong by having something to point at and go, look, that totally wasn't even my bad and get blamed for it, therefor everything else I do is justified?

( He sweeps his arms out incredulously; a wayward stack of books catches heat for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they get sent scattering to the ground, their pages bent and their covers dirtied. He doesn't care. )

Jesus Christ, seriously, go fuck yourself, dude. She meant everything to me, and she's gone, and fuck you for making that somehow about yourself. You're literally the worst, and it's not just because everybody thinks you're the worst. It's because you're the worst. You ruin everything, for everybody, including yourself and the people who love you. You don't deserve to be here, you don't even want to be here, but somehow, you're here instead of her, and you have the fucking audacity to be miserable about it? I hate you. I fucking hate you. Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?
thedevilwhorose: (if you can make it out above)

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2024-05-13 02:17 am (UTC)(link)
No. [Just.

No.

No to what? How many of those are yes or no questions? Quite a few, actually, most of them justifiably shitty.

Lucifer folds his arms and just looks at Jack plainly, waiting. Lucifer's pretty sure he can keep going for awhile, but for once Lucifer's not purposefully fueling the fire. Purposefully.

Anything he does or doesn't do or say currently is fuel.]
stations: (24)

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-13 02:38 am (UTC)(link)
Good! ( He snarls immediately, with barely a breath between Lucifer's answer and his own response. ) Me neither! I've never been happy, and the closest I've ever come to understanding what that might even sort of feel like was with her. Like I'm some kind of fucking... happiness parasite that just sucked all the happy out of her for, like, two seconds of not being miserable.

( He is, of course, taking that no to be a direct answer to only that last question, and refusing to think any more deeply about it. )

And maybe that's why you're here. Maybe you get some- some kind of weird, sick fucking joy out of that β€” seeing other people being as miserable as you are. Maybe it makes you feel less alone, or something. Well, newsflash, you're still alone. You're going to push away or lose everybody, every single person, because you keep doing shit like this, and you're always gonna be alone, you- Fucking! Asshole!

( At some point, somewhere along the way, his voice raises in octave and in pitch. He can hear it, bouncing off the walls back at himself. He can hear, plain and clear, the way it cracks miserably toward the end. He can feel the burn in his eyes, the fury of unshed tears, the wrenching ache of it.

The truth of it hurts so fucking much, he can barely breathe. )

Oh, god.

( She's gone. )
thedevilwhorose: (in all the trouble I have caused)

forgive me for continually giving you no substance

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2024-05-13 03:16 am (UTC)(link)
[Yeah, sorry, Jack, but he has eight hundred years of scattered swiss-cheese memories (funny, considering what Lucifer did to his cult on a regular basis) to know with a surefire certainty that he's not going to be alone. Oh, if he went through the same act of targeting Sabine to essentially get Jack to be his vessel Redux Version, he'd be screwed. No one's going to let that slide by twice, and he knows that.

He's tried to push people away dozens of times, in excessively terrible ways, but they were still there while he was settled into his coldest state. That kind of sticks with you after you wake up having a dirt nap from the Singularity's crater still with your wrists bound from when you got marched to it.

He had come here expecting violence and now he doesn't exactly know what the actual Hell he's exactly supposed to do. That Lucifer may currently be one of the few Thorne Summoned with the steadiest emotions and that says a lot about Thorne as a whole.] Uhhm. [Helpful.]
stations: (0044)

i forgive u my child

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-13 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
That's it? Uhhm?!

( He sounds hoarse, his throat thick, his vision blurry.

If Lucifer gave him more, if he were more responsive, if he were even vaguely antagonistic, this would have devolved into violence. He was teetering on a precarious ledge, and one smart-ass comment would've had a box cutter in his hand in a heartbeat.

But Lucifer's being so fucking passive, offering nothing, instigating nothing, it's throwing him entirely off-kilter. It's not enough to push him across the line, and he wants to be pushed. It'll be so much easier to lash out than to break down. )

Say something, fuckass!

( Mark this down as the first and only time Jack will ever voluntarily give Lucifer that order. )
thedevilwhorose: (a needle to the curve)

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2024-05-13 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
I'm unfortunately not the champion of administering comfort [Just ask Istredd. And Kell. And probably Wilhelm.] And I don't particularly think you want me putting out a hand. I could tell you you're right about any number of things [that he's word vomited at Lucifer in the past??? Minute???] but that doesn't do a whole lot for you.

Perhaps an offer of distraction [since Jack hasn't resorted to violence yet so he has to think on his feet here] but do you want inane distraction? [Or will that just feel like he's not doing anything to 'get Sabine back' and

well

Jack will burn out, eventually, but maybe burnout is what he needs.

What the fuck does Lucifer know?????]
stations: (81)

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-13 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
( This is just- seriously not helping Jack pick a lane. It neither provokes him into violence nor encourages him toward that breakdown that's been looming for weeks β€” it's too bizarre, the confusion throws a wrench in his emotional momentum, and all he can do for a second is stare at the man like he's got two heads that are presently french kissing each other.

Inane distraction. Putting out a hand?

What?
What? )

I-

( What? He is so unbelievably fucking confused about what any of that means, about the motivation behind it, and the fact that he can feel an embarrassing, hot streak of tears finally escaping does not help him process it any better.

And so he just flat out asks: )

Why are you here?

( Honestly, genuinely, what the fuck is this shit? )
thedevilwhorose: (got me so locked away again)

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2024-05-13 04:06 am (UTC)(link)
[Weird that the devil who is exceptional at inciting violence sometimes knows how to avoid it.] Because the logical conclusion I had made when finding out that she [he doesn't say her name because he thinks that also might set Jack off, something something he shouldn't be allowed to say her name, look he can make up fake chatter for Jack all day long, it's not very hard] was gone was that you would eventually come at me. I thought I'd just save us both some time.

And now I'm not exactly sure why or what I'm doing here. [So. They're both equally at a loss, if it makes you feel even fractionally, temporarily, better, Jack.]
stations: (80)

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-13 04:16 am (UTC)(link)
( It's a wholly unsatisfying answer, and Jack realizes with profoundly crushing disappointment that this... is not going to result in the catharsis he's unconsciously been seeking. Unloading his rage at Lucifer, fighting him, dragging him through memories or stabbing him or whatever, it's not going to feel good. It's not going to satisfy anything β€” and it's certainly not going to bring her back.

Great.

So now Lucifer's even robbed him of that, and not even on Jack's terms.

His shoulders slump. His eyes close, and for a second, it's all he can do to remain standing in shuttered, empty silence. Accepting this profound let-down of a realization, and absolutely despising it. Eventually, he drags a hand up to his face to grind his palm against his cheeks, to resentfully scrub away the evidence of tears.

He licks his lips. They feel simultaneously sticky and dry when he pries them apart, and his throat catches on the words whenever he gets around to making them. )

Just get out. Just leave me alone.
thedevilwhorose: (you're a bedtime story)

[personal profile] thedevilwhorose 2024-05-13 04:26 am (UTC)(link)
[They're not friends. They're not even allies. Lucifer has no reason to poke this bear continuously.] You know how to find me. [He turns, and walks away.]
stations: (076)

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-13 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
( The door shuts itself behind him β€” without Jack ever leaving the center of the room. )
infiniteban: (gotta find that fool who did that to you)

what WHAT man come at me bro I do what I want

[personal profile] infiniteban 2024-05-13 04:54 am (UTC)(link)
[Like clockwork.

Habits, back in order. Do the work around the Commune, take a dip into the Horizon, spin by the gas station, buy his things, shoot the shit, continue on, back to the Commune.

That should be how it goes--that should be what's expected.

Even Travis, Unbanned Travis, hesitates before entering the gas station. Truly waits outside feeling unwell in the face of whatever this is. He doesn't open the door with his hands. Not his normal hands, anyway. Instead a black sinew crawling out from his back, wrapped bone creaking bone, forms into an arm with a spidery hand that pushes the door open for him.

Travis squashes down the instant alarm on his face but this isn't the first time this has happened to him and he walks across the threshold into the gas station but he really fucking wants to walk back out without buying ("buying") anything and wow... wow. This is not...] The fuck's going on 'round here? Y'all miss your cleanup schedule or something?
stations: (55)

lmfaoooooooooooooooo

[personal profile] stations 2024-05-13 05:01 am (UTC)(link)
( He sits at the register. There is a book open before him on the counter, and he is staring down at it β€” but the pages are blank. He's been staring down at empty white paper, and he doesn't know how long he's been doing it, or when he even came here in the first place. And that's... fine.

It's all fine.

Everything is fine.

The gas station is fine. Travis is fine. The arm coming out of Travis is fine. The empty book is fine. Jack is fine. As long as he doesn't think, or feel, or breathe too deeply, everything is going to be fine.

And so he picks up Travis's usual pack of smokes from the cancer stick selection, along with a can of Skoal, and slides them listlessly across the counter. )

Nine seventy-five.

( He says, without even bothering to ring it up β€” because that's how much it always is, and his brain retains the most useless things. )
infiniteban: (the good Lord will take)

[personal profile] infiniteban 2024-05-13 05:13 am (UTC)(link)
Soooooo.... [Because maybe he's getting the hang of things, he hand Jack a $10 instead of exact change. Just to see how much in-the-present the man is, and he waits, drumming his two hands (no extra, thankfully) on the counter.] How's it going? Any uh... new... hires? [That's a reasonable question.]
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