Tʜᴇʏ sᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ( ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ-ᴀʟʟ )

[stations]

Who: Jack & Company
When: August
Where: Thorne, Horizon
What: Catch-all
Warnings: mental instability, violence, (self) gaslighting

𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝, 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔
𝑆𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘 '𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒
𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠

Comments

[stations]

( The wonder of creation that unfolds around them is, in the most literal dictionary-definition sense of the word, awesome. Jack isn't a very expressive person by nature, but even still it's pretty visible on his face that awe was, in fact, inspired.

He sees a lot of crazy shit in his life. A lot of terrible shit, a lot of fucked up shit. Usually traumatizing, scary, violent, or abstract to the point of being nearly incomprehensible.

But he doesn't see a lot of beauty. )

Wow.

( Suffice it to say, the dreamer remained. )

...I guess that's a little bit better than a poster, yeah.

[ushiri]

[ At this awe and approval he smiles, as wide and uninhabited as if he'd drank a gallon of fathi. ]

Come on, dreamer. [ He tosses the apple to Jack. If he catches it, he'll note that it feels no different than a regular apple. If he drops it, it'll crack on the stone floor, shattering in half from the place where a bite had been taken from it.

Whichever happens, he strides gracefully toward the open doorway of the temple, out to the garden that wreaths it. Apple trees grow out here too, but of the normal, wooden variety. Grapevines creep up the stone lattice built into the structure, their fruits ranging from green to pink to dark purple. A clear stream winds around the structure, a single path crossing from the doorway outward.

He walks backwards from here, staring up at the two stone figures flanking the temple, they stand just a bit taller than the glass dome. Both are men, their musculature detailed so realistically that you might have to look twice to be sure their chests hadn't just risen and fallen with living breath. They have their arms outstretched, beckoning. Their faces aren't entirely formed yet, but there are details that mark them as different from each other. One springs from a base carved of flowers and ivy that encircles him, something naturally inviting and warm in his pose. The other forms from a base carved of rushing waves and crumbling earth, his outstretched arms seem to welcome the destruction around him. ]

I can't remember what his faces are meant to look like. [ His grin fades at this realization, shifting into unease— but then his attention shifts almost suddenly, his gaze locking on the closest neighboring Domain with raised eyebrows. ]

Is that yours?

[ The gas station. ]

[stations]

( He does technically manage to catch it. It slips out of his hand once, goes bouncing up into the air, slips out of his other hand, and winds up cradled against his chest like a newborn baby before he manages to secure it, but he does catch it. Once physics stops fighting him, he takes it in hand and holds it up to get a proper look at it in the light.

Definitely not the kind of fruit they sell at the gas station.

Mostly because they don't sell any fruit at the gas station, but this thing is incredible.

He's not normally a huge advocate of eating after people he barely knows, but... come on, how often do you get the chance to bite a crystal apple? He has to admit, it's tempting.

In the end, he figures it's probably safer to gently set the thing down at the foot of the tree before he follows — just in case it's like a big, significant... religious... fruit... situation. He'd hate to be That Guy.

He catches up and falls into step right on time for the question, and follows Kyle's sight line onward toward his own domain. )

Yeah. ( Which sounds only faintly embarrassed. Probably not as much as he should if we're being realistic, but it's there a little all the same. Can you blame him? Comparatively speaking, he feels a little bit like he did as a kid, walking into class with a duct-taped backpack and Social Services donated clothes two sizes too big — just to sit down next to the rich kid.

Despite that, he still sounds light and easygoing when he speaks again. ) I think you just gentrified me.

[ushiri]

[ There's no particular religious significance to the apples or the tree of iron beyond the obvious: all things come from Parfir. Only the statues signify any relationship to the Payshmura Church, and even they aren't copies of any that exist in Basawar.

( something he'll have to consider when he returns, with his memories )

Kahlil chuckles at the dreamer's remark, shaking his head before inclining his chin toward his Domain again. ]

I promise I'm not judging— but... why a gas station?

[ Kahlil puts emphasis on the question, genuinely curious. He could create anything, there must be more to it. He wouldn't have formed one if it didn't hold some meaning to him. ]

[stations]

( Jack blinks — like it never even occurred to him to question it himself. Like he never thought it would come up, like nobody would ever wonder let alone ask. )

That's where I work, back home. ( He answers simply, with a shrug. ) I guess I own it now, technically, but... yeah, I've spent most of my adult life there, more or less.

( And a lot of his non-adult life there too, in a way, considering Sabine had been his life from age seven onward. Considering her parents owned it, and everywhere he lived seemed to be within a certain proximity to the place.

It probably sseems stupid, making his domain his job, but... )

I don't really have anywhere else.

( Even his house isn't really his house. It's certainly not his home. It's just... where he goes when he's off the clock. It's the place he showers and stores his books. )

[ushiri]

It's what you think of when you imagine home. [ He nods, frowning slightly. Then, matter-of-factly: ]

It's become a part of you.

[ There and here now.

It might be strange, but he's sure that there are people who would find this temple strange. It's all a matter of perspective.

He smiles at the dreamer again, then glances toward the gas station, eyes narrowing. ]

Do you have nachos and cheese?

[ It is a gas station. ]

[stations]

( Jack doesn't say anything about it, but he takes a minute to consider the concept — and ultimately decides home isn't quite right. It's a part of him, yes, but it doesn't feel like home. It feels more like... his responsibility. His obligation. As long as the gas station exists, someone needs to guard it, and there's nobody who knows it better. Nobody better capable of surviving it. At least, nobody that doesn't have terrible intentions.

The gas station is his duty.

Of course, explaining that to a stranger would sound absolutely batshit, so he just nods and carries on. )

It's a gas station. ( He answers, like it should be obvious. ) Of course we have nachos. Come on, they're on the house this time.

( And probably every time since money here is fake, but they'll cross that bridge when they come to it. )