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"Leave a missive, but be brief about it."

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[Silco had never been one to let ghosts and tormentors of those he had come to care about scare him. They were part of the experience, and if he could take away some of Richard's fear and revulsion from the witch by having a make-believe conversation with someone he didn't see, hear, or could touch, perhaps it would allow his lover to also find the will to shake off how her presence upset the balance of the day.

Normally she came out when Richard was alone, he had noticed. Times of stress too. It wasn't that often that Silco was in the room when the tells were there to indicate that Joan was there in the same room as them.]

Well, does she want a drag of my cigar? She's more than welcome.

[He ran his thumb over the smooth paper of the book, and it seemed to him that it was cared for well enough. It didn't look like it was read much or at least not the entirety of it. He decided that he would read this book of God's little advice and see if he could discern what the big deal was about.]

Oh and this Hell would be any different would it? Eternal torment in the fiery pits of demons, or eternal Hell in a cycle on Earth where at least one has the opportunity to change their fortunes? Please, don't be so narrowminded about reincarnation. Perhaps you could have the life you've always wanted. [He didn't know what that was either. A crown, a father alive, a fully male or fully female body. He'd never asked what Richard's ideal was.]

I can't go to all out war with them, that's all. This city wouldn't stand behind me as I am now. Perhaps if everyone knew what sort of monster I was, no one would stand with me. [He was watching Richard as he said it. Despite their promises, there were deep wounds and old memories that were harmful, that he thought may even turn off his lover.] If people of your time came, would you be overjoyed to see them? Your brothers? Your mother?

[The door was locked and no one would dare to interrupt them unless the literal building was burning down. He dipped his head down a little under the weight of Richard's hand around his neck, though his shoulders twitched and his breath hitched momentarily given their previous encounter on his chair. He only kissed Richard harder like he wanted to hurt the younger man's tonsils with his tongue, losing himself in the sensation to chase away the trepidation of Richard's arms around his neck.

He felt arousal faster than usual, the energy finding a source as he stepped off of grinding on Richard's thigh. As that other leg rose and curled around his waist, he pressed his lover harder against the wall while dropping his hands to shove down his trousers and underwear with a grunt of stimulation. Then his hands returned to cup under Richard's thighs as he lifted the younger man off the ground, digging his fingers into the soft smooth flesh as he slotted himself between his lover's parted legs.

He rubbed his erection against Richard's testicles and further back to that moist entrance. The caress of the material against his hips layered stimulation as he pulled his mouth away to kiss and nip along Richard's jawline.] War with me for control... come on, Richard.

[Joan was an entity that was ever present in Richard's daily life. She was there even when he couldn't see her. Sometimes it was just her voice he could hear while other times she manifested as looming dread above him, feeling her presence following him like a suffocating shadow. And it was true that she comes out of her hiding during the times when he was alone, sliding through the cracks of weakness. But it was not completely unheard of her to show herself when there were others around, despite how rare it was. She had done so in the past. When Richard had been young and struggling to find balance between the despair and hope, clinging on the fickle light that Henry brought him.

It was the same affliction which she accused him of again. So he supposes it makes sense that she is here right now, after being silent and absent so long during the months that they shared the roof. ]

I'd be careful if I were you. She might as well go and poison your mind even further. He scoffs at Silco's words as he focuses on the witch, who in return sticks her tongue out, earning an angry scowl from Richard. He clenches his hand in a tight fist and turns to walk around the altar - just so to have excuse to tear his gaze away from the pair on the bench.]

The life on Earth is hell. You'd willingly be caught in the ever spinning wheel just for one opportunity? Like a fool running around in circles. Heh. I suppose this world suits you just well, then. You lost almost everything and now have gained it all back once again. [He could tell that his focus was wavering, feeling already exhausted and overwhelmed by the maddening visions of Joan, the blasphemous conversation with Silco and the sea of the candles. But still, he would not run away.]

Maybe. But you have power and influence here that others don't. If they were now to act out against you they would only earn the ire of the rest of the Chosen.

[There is a moment of silence from him when Silco brings up his family. He is right to assume that their arrival would not please him at all. Especially his brothers would prove out to be problematic and force him into hiding once again. He was not nowhere prepared to shatter their idea of loyal little brother by revealing the cost of his ambition. He sighs out his nose, some of the tension deflating from his frame.]

...Why did you come here, Silco? If Whitey truly was being a pest you could have just kicked him out.

Edited 2025-01-15 22:50 (UTC)

I'm not concerned. I've been around my daughter's demons for many years, and the more power that one gives to their hold, the worse they are. [At least, that's how he liked to consider it. All the traumas manifested in those creatures, disrupting her life as they disrupted Richard's. He had urged his daughter to cut ties with the side of her that he thought responsible for being unable to move pass what afflicted her mind.] I assume she has a purpose, one you may not be aware of. Have you... asked her why she torments you?

[His shoulders twitched and his blue eye narrowed balefully, and his thumb stroked the smooth page of the bible. He had lost everything; he couldn't resent the person who had done it to him either as he would give her the world, even as his own crumbled for her. He'd do it again too.] I suppose I'll go with what I know, the usual sufferings of mortality, trying to carve out a living out of nothingness.

[He hummed in consideration, but he knew it wasn't that simple. There were plenty of suspected him, and they were well-liked and trusted. Well, he supposed that things had been rather easy, so perhaps this was a challenge to force him to shake off the rust. Yes, perhaps that would be useful.]

Would they? Plenty already suspect me of something untoward. [That could be the natural paranoia after a lifetime of it being part of his survival.

He glanced up at Richard over by the altar, and it seemed his question as created a disquiet in his lover. Well, a touch more than his previous ranting had done, he supposed. He continued to watch Richard, noting the sigh and how some of that tension bled from that frame. He slowly closed the cover on the book in his hand and tucked it into his coat pocket.]

It's been days since we have seen each other. It seemed like a well-earned opportunity. Would you prefer if I left you alone in your house of God?

That's not true.

[the protest speeds pass her lips before she could have a chance to reel it back in, and tuck in a casket somewhere. but with that out, jinx has no choice but to finish that statement, and she peers at her father with a doleful gleam in her eyes.]

You and Vander... shouldn't have died. The two of you were brothers and...— and families should stick together. Even when things go to steeping shit.

[such a gross imagery, yet it best describes how terrible things went for her fathers. a fate that was worse than ordinary shit. the bluenette shifts in the bathtub again to get a better look at silco, and to rest a gentle hand over his.]

He's not here to apologize... or maybe he is. Somewhere out there. But if he's not, then I wanna apologize for him. ... I'm sorry for what he's done to you, and how he lost his cool. He took my mom's death pretty hard and... just.

[jinx can't pretend to know what vander was thinking during that time and can only vaguely recite what was written in the letter. nevertheless, she squeezes her father's hand with her wet one before slanting over to plant a light kiss on it.]

Not gonna ask for forgiveness, it won't make much of a difference... especially after how long ago this was. But. I'm really sorry, Silco.

Edited 2025-01-16 16:21 (UTC)

[Richard had not encountered the ghosts' that would haunt Jinx. He had understood from his lover's words that the spirits in question were her brothers' who had met untimely death, rather than witches with demonic powers. To his ears it seemed like Jinx suffered from similar condition as Henry had, rather than being cursed.

The question made him pause. Joan had told him the reason from the beginning, and she kept repeating it time after time again. Because I'm you. A cold and crushing truth that Richard knew and understood. Both of them were criminals in the eyes of the Lord.]

Because I'm a demon. [And so does the spin wheel again, weaving the threads together in this toxic circle. All ends leading to his own self-hatred, one that is rationalized by the very same religion he continues to make these sacrifices for. It's like a drug that just kept him coming back for more abuse and self-harm.

He scoffs silently but accepted Silco's answer, content to leave that part of the discussion there. They could argue, push and pull until they both run out of breath and energy without truly finding a compromise on what would be preferable fate for soul. But the night wouldn't last forever and despite the confrontational tone in his words, Richard was hardly interested in keeping up such fruitless labor. He supposes that it'd only make sense for Silco to not be able to see the value in light, after having spend so much time in the dark. Him dismissing the heaven and God did remind him of his kingmaker. The thought made his heart soften.

And that longing was only heightened by Silco's words. Any topic of possible opposition, the nature of afterlife and what not was briefly forgotten when the meaning behind the man's reason registered in his mind. His heart swells and skips a beat, making his stomach drop while also bringing about a dark crimson hue on his cheeks.

"He wanted to see you." For once, Richard does not flinch or allow the voices to distract him. Because the truth was that he returned the sentiment.

Richard had missed the other man, too. Far more than he should have. Them being separated now was only a logical conclusion after their bubble had been burst by the girl named Jinx. It was what they had agreed on. And yet the distance tormented Richard, summoning the long forgotten despair and strengthening his loneliness. It served as a bitter reminder that he truly was alone in this world - Silco being his only solace.

He had missed the touch of the calloused rough hands, the lingering fragrance of whiskey mixed in stinging smoke, the deep voice that would fill in the silent space within the room - roping him into conversations and teaching him more about this strange world. He missed waking up in the mornings, knowing that Silco was there to chase away the nightmares of the night.

A quick moment passed with Richard just standing there, breathing heavily through his nose. He then moved again and walked around the altar, this time to approach his lover. He stopped right in front of him with his back turned against the ocean of light.]

What do you intend to do with the bible?

[His lips twitched at her outburst, but they twisted once she began down the path that he had long ago wished to never relive. He had shed the last holds of that relationship (or he deluded himself in that) when Vander had died outside the cannery, body morphed and twisted with Shimmer. He'd won. He'd proven his point; the monster was always still in there and only required the right motivation, though it was unfortunate the children had died.

However, Vander was no his family. Jinx was his family, the only family he needed now. The other man had lost that right that day at the river, though he shivered where he sat as he remembered sitting at the statue without anywhere else to go. Who else was there to talk to but the ghost of the past on the realization that they had been the same? He didn't want to acknowledge it even here; they were brothers, had been for a long time.

Yet, his eyes sharply turned to Jinx, and he inhaled audibly when she apologized on Vander's behalf.] Don't... [The word emerged before he could lock his jaw around it. The only person that still lived and breathed that could not be faulted for this intent was Jinx, but it ripped open old badly healed scars.

She didn't know. She thought she knew, but she didn't understand the full impact of that day. Oh, he ranted and raved, spat and cursed, pretended he had made himself whole again, but the history leading up to that point was complicated and twisted. He had never reflected well on it all, the good memories experienced like a hot poker to the guts and best to be avoided. Felicia... she had deserved better, deserved to not have died that day in the way that she had. Vander taking her death hard was a fucking understatement.

And after it all, Vander had settled in, erasing every part that he had once played. He resented that the kids were the most important aspect of his life, a memory of her, a memory of that day coveted and protected while he rotted in the mines fighting to survival, fighting to save his vision in the left eye regardless of the necessary sacrifices. Building from nothing alone and realizing it was better that way, that there would never be a time and place where they would meet and see eye-to-eye again.

For him to rise, Vander had to fall. He had and hadn't enjoyed it.

Forgiveness? No, that wasn't possible. Those wounds would never heal, and she was ripping them open, unearthing all the old hurts, especially with the knowledge that Vander survived. He had died and Vander lived on like a fucking cockroach. Why hadn't the Doctor saved him? Why Vander?

His expression had gone from tight to lax, his breathing rapid and harsh to his own ears. He pulled his hand away, unaware he dropped the brush to clatter on the floor. He wanted to be angry, to scream, to throw something, but he felt a deep well of dark emptiness that filled with old bitterness. She's sorry for what he did to him? She didn't know the half of it, the little details, the person he had been before that day.

A weak man had to die. A man who relied on anyone with his heart. And then he had... with her. And he died for it. He would sacrifice everything for, but never again for....

Suddenly he rose to his feet, pushing his hand through his hair several times, leaving it a touch wild-looking. He swallowed hard and turned away.] I need... a comb. [He had a comb.] No, a drink. I need a drink. Stay here and be warm.

[He walked out hurriedly, nearly tripping on his own feet in his haste to escape the narrowing walls of the bathroom. He made it to the kitchen and promptly vomited. Vander couldn't be here.]

Is that all? Hmmm... maybe she's not as interesting as I thought.

[He expected the answer to be both more straightforward and complicated. Most of such topics with Richard usually were, filled with the kind of self-loathing and demonic prattling about that cursed body as one would expect from one who could be as theatrical as he could. Was it so simple with Joan? No, he expected there was more to it, or perhaps her articulation was more of the affront to Richard than the meaning of her continued existence.

Either way, he could see that their little round table argument had waned from interest, and he was not invested enough to press the matter further. No, he crossed on leg over the other and looked around the church with its big tree, the candles, the ambiance of what was probably supposed to be peace, and the actual quiet of being seemingly isolated from the rest of Aldrip.

He had only allowed himself to leave Jinx knowing that she would be taken care of and wouldn't wake up alone. She had not only returned having seen and done things he would never know the extent of, but she returned bearing knowledge that upended much of his own life as well. Her denial of his ambition on her behalf, realizing his brother was alive somehow, watching her with others of their world. It was... a lot to consider.

Yet, he had come here because he had also needed the escape. If he were to leave the house for social time, it would only to be find Richard. The domestic intertwining of their lives had come to an abrupt halt, torn asunder with Jinx's return to the house. He had immediately stopped using the bed, seeing no point without having someone to sleep next to. Perhaps he would even admit someday that he was sleeping far less and fitfully since Richard had left.

His mismatched eyes regarded the younger man, watching Richard approach and stop in front of him. Without thought, he dropped his crossed leg down to the floor and slowly sat forward so the angle to look up at Richard was shaper.]

What else does one do with a book? I intend to read it. You base a lot of your own suffering on the word written within, so I expected I'll be enlightened reading it.

[the sudden movement of her father marginally startles her, and she watches him with perplexity as he shoves his hand through his locks. and with each second passing, the confusion look coils more into concern and worry. maybe she should have kept her mouth shut, because after all, some say,"always go with your gut feeling or your first intuition".

and this seems to be one of those times. her eyes larges the more silco becomes undone, and regardless of him instructing her to stay put, jinx doesn't heed his words. so when he scurries off, his daughter scrambles to climb out of the tub.]

Shit. Shitshitshit!!

[she's so stupid, how could she easily jinx this up? it hadn't even been a full day, and things are already going into turmoil. out of the tub, she snatches the nearest towel she can spot, then hastily wrap it around her physique — giving chase. jinx can thank janna (or herself now, technically?) that her father didn't rush out into the night or barricade himself in his office.

there's a very light relief to see him in the kitchen, but not so much with him retching. the bluenette stands still for a moment or two with her mind racing in maximum speed; thinking as quickly she possibly can. okay, okay. what did isha used to do for her? would it even work for silco? they're the same, but different in so many ways. and yet, his daughter doesn't want to waste too much time with standing stiff, and she zooms swiftly by his side.]

Hey, hey...hey. [ she announces herself, doing her best to keep her voice leveled, and smooth as she rests a hand on silco's back, slouching forward — not at all bothered by the stench of his spew or the sight of it.] — I got you. Shhh, take a deep breath... I'm right here with you, there's no one else but me.

[Leaned over the sink, Silco heaved until his stomach was empty. There wasn't much to speak of, mostly liquid and he spat twice to remove some of the acrid taste in his mouth. He flipped on the water, keenly aware of Jinx closing the distance between them and turning his head just a touch to his right so he could see her approach.

He cupped water in a hand and brought it to his mouth, washing the taste out and spitting into the sink. He repeated that twice more before shutting the water off, his mind buzzing with the information, the apology, the knowledge Vander was out there and nothing would change the past hurts and sacrifices.

Yet, oddly, he was uncomfortable with Jinx's attempt at comfort; it was a rare thing, especially as she had gotten older. He was the adult after all; it was his job to comfort and guide her, not the other way around. She hadn't even called him silly, which all added up to a bizarre situation that he wasn't used to being put in. Her return was supposed to solve everything, but it felt complicated and jarring. Empty nest syndrome was such a strange concept.

Slowly, he pushed himself up from leaning on the sink, patting her arm as he abandoned his post to go in search of his liquor cabinet. Within a few steps, he had compartmentalized the raging emotions, compressing them where he could safely explode on his own at a later time. He exuded a calmness as he leaned down and poured himself some whiskey. Uncharacteristically, he took the first finger as a shot, refilled the glass far above what he normally would and didn't bother with ice this time.

He turned back to his daughter.] When you go in search of him, I will go with you. Unfinished business and all.

[she watches the man closely, and frowns only slightly when he goes to the cabinet to retrieve a glass and whiskey. jinx won't protest, however, the girl scurries to the fridge to seek for freshly bottle of water then sets it on the counter — scooting it closer to his radius than hers.

it's a muted suggestion that he should drink some water so to prevent dehydration, and she clutches on a rag to drop to the floor, then uses her foot to mop away any traces of bath water she trailed from one room to the next.]

Will you be okay out here, Pops? I can finish up my bath on my own.

[He fell back into a sense of routine, willing it to bring him calm and to compartmentalize the complex emotions that came with the bombardment of information that he had received tonight. He took another large gulp of whiskey, letting it burn its way down his throat and warm his stomach as he closed his eye and inhaled a deep breath, held it and then slowly released it.

He opened his eye and noted the water bottle that Jinx had nudged in his direction. He had already washed his mouth out, so that was purely unnecessary. He turned his gaze to her half untangled hair and simply set his tumbler aside on the coffee table.]

Don't be ridiculous. Your hair requires more attention. I'll assist.

[her expression plunges to a typical teenager snark, and she says nothing for a second or two before gesturing a wave of her hand towards the basin.]

... You just blew chunks all into the sink.

[in case he forgot, and the tone she uses is dry, but there's care in it, honest!]

I think you oughta sit for a second just in case you wanna go for round two. And bathing in puke is NOT exactly good for the skin. Despite what some nut job scientist might say.

There were no chucks, simply liquid.

[He decided to correct her on principle because chunks made an indication that he had eaten something in the last few hours, which he had clearly not. Instead, he was fighting to compartmentalize, to compose himself completely, to push down the wild rush of emotions for her sake (definitely not his own). He put the idea of Vander in a neat little box to deal with later internally.]

The moment of nausea has passed, and you're being quite dramatic. We need to finish your hair given the mess you've made of it on the travel back.

[He abandoned his tumbler and made a point of walking back to the bathroom as if he had not shown some of the strain or vomited in the sink or had his world crack all around him or experienced a whole new scenario of revisiting traumas. No, he focused on her because it was easier and better and what he had been doing for years.]

I'll refresh the water. [Be normal. Act normal. He unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt sleeve so he could roll it up and then reached it to pull the plug, replaced it immediately and turned the water back on.] You should drink that water you brought out.

Chucks, liquid, screws and bolts, it's all the same crap.

[how would anyone throw up screws and bolts is...questionable, and although her father instructs her to drink the bottle of water, she ignores it and lets it sit there abandoned while she paces after him.]

Fine, you can call me dramatic all you want, but you're being stubborn, Mister.

[returning to the washroom, his daughter removes the towel from her frame once more and folds it over the sink.]

— After this, you're going to your room and take a minute to relax, got it? AND you're drinking that water. I've learned from Isha about how to... [she pauses, scrunching up her face to think of a way to phrase her point, doing wild hand gestures in hope it'll help.] ... stop the brain from going bzzzt,bzzzt. Or at least make it not SO bzzzt, bzzzt. So, we need to find you a good, quiet place where you can feel free and breathe.

Your office should be a perfect spot for that.

It was an unfortunate reaction to something I consumed earlier.

[It was not. He was a master of deluding himself when it came to explaining some of his own personal traumas that did not immediately come with furious anger. He couldn't be angry with Jinx or the situation, too relieved to have her back in his life despite all the oddities of her return and the changes in some of her behaviours.

He returned to where he was sitting, leaning down to pick up the abandoned brush and comb. He used the comb to dig out long strands of blue hair that had ended up tangled in the bristles, unperturbed by her returned state of nudity.]

I don't drink water. [That statement was very true; water in Zaun was dangerous so he made a point of refreshing himself only with distilled liquor. It hadn't killed him yet.] You learned how to control your inner demons? Because of a child. [After all the years of him trying to nudge her to controlling them, to letting her free of them, to soothing her and it took a child to accomplish where he had found great but not perfect success? He experienced a pang of jealousy, which he stewed on rather than reliving all the other insurmountable stresses of this conversation.] You do recall I'm the parent in this situation, and you don't get to tell me to go to my room.

[he is definitely fibbing because of the timing of her speaking of vander and having that reaction is far too close, but she knows when to pick her battles and when not. so she decides to let it go, and approaches the tub again to test the temperature with her right foot. feeling it's perfect, the symbol slides back in the waters and allows her waterfall of locks to hang over.]

They're not completely controlled, they still bug me and like to talk my ear off. I've just learned some little tricks, that's all. — AND!

[she exclaims by lifting a finger and flashing him a bright smile.]

You're not the only parent in this bathroom. I'm a mama, remember? So I CAN order you to go to your room. With supper. Because I don't want you to go hungry.

[Learned some tricks, hmm? He had tried to teach her tricks while also not stifling her innovation and chaos. He had encouraged that. Perhaps he could claim to some fame in that the teaparty was clearly Jinx making a decision on who she wanted to be and after his death, perhaps she had chosen the path that they had been working on for years. Perhaps he had finally killed Powder, even for a time.

But no, apparently it was a little girl. He kept the seething jealousy to himself, the thought eating like spoiled spanner grease through his mind. He had the audacity of mortality and now everything he had built was crumbling away beneath his feet.

He picked pulled her hair back into his lap and returned to his work, sullen and introverted. She had provided him much to ponder, too much perhaps.]

I'm still your father, which means you don't have the authority to order me around. [She absolutely did.] I'm not hungry. I ate recently.

You're such a card, Pops! I've ordered you around plenty of times before I went back home.

[she hoists up her leg from the water, wiggling her toes before stretching over for the shower gel and scrub.]

Except this time, I've got a few tricks up my sleeves to get you to listen to me. — So you better watch out, I'm coming for your bedtime, Jinxie says viciously and laughs out to the heavens while the crowd cheers and shower her with bullet shells.

Indeed because I let you as it was within my own interests to do so.

[His fingers paused to work a particularly difficult snaggle of hair out with the comb, shaking his head when it seemed that his daughter was under the impression that he would do what she ordered of him. That's not how it worked, even if he often would acquiesced to her whims and rarely held her accountable.]

Do you? If you think you can force me to sleep when your sleeping habits are worse than mine.....

It is not in her intentions to be interesting, Silco. [There is hint of actual offense in his words. Joan was there to torment and terror, not intrigue him or others. And even if she tried, he liked to believe that none of it would work on him. His father had unmasked her for him ages ago. Yet, he could not help but bristle against the accusation that the source of his torment was 'not interesting']

But if you truly are so disappointed maybe you could get her to haunt your mind instead. I am certain she will find a way to take your breath away. [A slight verbal jab and a reminder about their previous hapless adventures at the Last Drop. He still could remember the panic on Silco's eyes as his mind had been overtaken by the ghost of the so vividly, like it had happened mere moments ago. The older man might be free of witches and other demons that would distort his sense of reality, but even he ought to know how 'interesting' it can be to relive the nightmares over and over again.

A shadow of a disapproving frown settles down on Richard's expression as his brows knit together and lips press down in a harsh thin line. What else does one do with a book, indeed. But the idea of Silco taking his time and getting to know his religion and beliefs does pang an anxiety within him. He doesn't know which one is worse: for him to read it and continue to rebuke it as rubbish and use it against him. Or welcome its teaching's in his heart and turn to light.]

I do not wish you to.

Yet it is in your interest to take away her power over you be removing her intentions or spinning them in a different light. [He ignored the offense that Richard felt at his breezy oversimplification over the traumas that Joan provided to his lover. He could see clearly that Richard was tormented, but his assistance could not be stealing the witch away but undercutting the power that she had on Richard. If he could help Richard reduce her to a controlled annoyance, then he had done his objective.

His expression closed at the rebuttal, well earned and well-aimed as it was. Indeed, Richard had found one of his own unfortunate weaknesses from his past. No doubt accidentally discovering had been as much a point of interest as it had been horrifying for his lover, especially when one considered how strictly controlled he often was. Richard saw more of him than everyone, including Jinx. Richard peeled back layers on purpose and accidentally.] Oh no doubt she and I would bicker endlessly, and then you would have to put up with that.

He raised his own natural eyebrow at the statement that Richard didn't want him to read the Bible. His hands reached out to curl around the back of his lover's thighs, sitting up again so he could attempt to draw the younger man towards him, perhaps to even sit on or next to him.]

You do not wish for me to learn about a part of you which has tormented you since the day we met? Why do you fear my having knowledge?

Maybe seeing you out of wits every now and then would be worth it. [Seeing Silco in such a strong state of disorder and terror had also been horrible experience for Richard. It had wrung out some of old traumas and revealed a festering wound that simply refused to close. The memory of Henry from that night kept freezing him up and rendering him useless.

But at the same time the way things had ended up with Silco had managed to put some salve around that injury, cleaning around the edges and making it easier for Richard to breathe once again. The forest had been much more quiet ever since that. Something that had ultimately ended up with him and Joan to this church at the dead of the night.

He allows himself to be pulled closer and guided at the bench. The frown stayed on his face, but some of the harshness peels away as he considers Silco's question. Why did it indeed bring him fear to let his lover close and be involved in this part of his life? Silco is already more aware of his life than anyone else had been, so why does it make him despair to trust him with this hurt?

He then remembers Joan's accusations..]

..Because you are the only one who I do not want to hate me. [The words burst out of him unexpectedly, ending abruptly the growing silence from him. Honestly, they should not be too much of a surprise for either of them, but still they managed to carry an immense weight of a confession.

Richard had been alone ever since his birth and would continue to be alone until the day he dies. But here, in this strange world with its nightmares and otherwordly oddities, he thought that he could perhaps escape that fate. Perhaps that escape was Silco.]

Considering you nearly fled the first time, the only worth it would bring was that I only trust you seeing me like that. [There had been one, maybe two, instances where this place had forced him to relieve some extremely negative scenarios. Jinx, Ange and Richard might be the only ones to truly see him come undone and take the time to calm things. Richard was the most unexpected calming comfort that he had found; it wasn't perfect but what was?

While he didn't wish to relive the worst day of his life, it had forced him to open up a bit more to Richard about the circumstances. It was, of course, skewed by the deep unresolved hurt, anger and distrust that had caused, but it had finally come out despite his not particularly wishing it too. Of course, his lover may be the only one who felt like he could be competition for traumas with given Richard's own long life of neglect, torment and betrayal.

He relented his grip once Richard moved to settle on the bench next to him, and he leaned back against it. He slid an arm across the backrest, his fingers stroking up and down the back of his lover's neck just above that high collar. Yet, his fingers paused at the seeming bombshell that his lover dropped, his right eye blinked a few times in surprise.

Then he softened just a touch (his version anyway), and his fingers returned to stroking the smooth warm skin at the back of Richard's neck.] I can't imagine the contents of this book will cause me to hate you, Richard. We've been through our rough patches and seen our way through them. A book won't change my mind about you.

[Yet, Silco could understand the fear. He was experiencing it with his daughter who now seemed to have developed fundamental differences from what he knew. In reality, she had simply grown up, but to him, she was slipping away from him and he would be alone. Except... would he be? He looked at Richard next to him, experiencing an uncomfortable thought as he regarded his young vulnerable lover.]

...you won't lose me unless you betray me. I expect the reverse to be true.

[The rest of the world was once again dead to him, everything narrowing down to just this moment between them. All that Richard could think was the way his lover felt against his body as he kept grinding down on him, chasing after the pleasure blooming between them. It's just almost enough to make him forget about their previous panicked hiccup in the intimacy.

A muffled moan slips out of Richard's lips as he welcomed the invasion. The familiar taste of the smoke mixed in together with whiskey were nearly overwhelming, pushing through his senses. It all heightened the feeling of arousal. The friction between their bodies sending small jolts of electricity around his body. His fingers kept grasping on Silco's short hair, pulling on them as continued to reciprocate the kiss.]

-- Ah, [Richard lets out a quiet surprised gasp as he felt the floor disappear under him. When Silco lifts him up he immediately brings his other leg around his lover's waist and tighten his hold on the man's neck and shoulder. It's a bit of a struggle to find a good balance for his weight while being sandwiched between his lover's body and the wall. All while giving the other man better access to him -- which worked for him just fine. This is what he had wanted from the very beginning, after all. He moans loudly into their kiss when he feels Silco's erection to brush against his privates, stopping just before pushing in. What a tease.

However, there is yet another ripple in their moment of intimacy, this time caused by Silco's words of request. With his eyes widening Richard jolts and tenses up in the man's hold as the memory of the panic in Silco's eyes just from the moments prior flashes in his mind -- all leading back to the vision of Henry curling up in front of the altar. Both of them trying to get away from him. He suddenly became all aware of the fresh blood stains on his lover's neck, remembering just who had caused that.

He falls silent and pulls his head away, craning his neck down to bury his face into Silco's shoulder.] No... I want you to take me.

Edited 2025-01-20 02:38 (UTC)

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