Silco (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
conflictresolution) wrote2023-08-09 07:54 pm
conflictresolution) wrote2023-08-09 07:54 pm
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"Leave a missive, but be brief about it."
[Text | Voice | Video | In-Person]
"Leave a missive, but be brief about it."
[Text | Voice | Video | In-Person]
no subject
His lover wouldn't know it, but Silco was trying to break those chains so that his Richard could shake off years of self-hatred based around a religion that would never love or care for those that did not meet the standards of whatever society deemed. He hated it for that because so many of them were outliers who would have to overcompensate with shame and guilt at not being one of the 'sheep'.
So, he left the bulk of the topic silent on his end as he leafed through the Bible before giving up and actually starting on the first page. He shot a feigned enraged look to his right.] That's because she likes me, obviously.
[He snorted softly at the question and gestured with the Bible at all of this celebratory effect.] I don't care. My damned soul ended up here, so I suppose that's answer enough. Otherwise, I'd prefer reincarnation to relive again. A soul cycled over and over, their lives many, their opportunities varied.
[He grunted, fully aware of the opposition awaiting him. He needed to be careful now more than ever. He did not have the benefit of the last Marcus to hide his business.] You would think that, but I have cultivated a particular persona here that I wish to keep intact. They will create increased difficulties, though... I existed in the shadows for all of them for a long time. Perhaps I will be easy to overlook.
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No wonder Joan was present.
And speaking of the witch? It felt so jarring to see Silco trying to interact with her, looking straight into those large crazed eyes and talking to her. The colors shift in his eyes, distorting the reality even more as the poisonous green and purple began to spread around the pair on the bench. But Richard forced his eyes to stay focused, not yielding even as Joan turned to sneer back at him:
"Tell him, Richard. I am not the one who likes him here."
The comment makes him knit his brows together in a harsher frown, the corners of his lips pulling back as he ignored the taunt.]
So. Eternal cycle of suffering and pain? Endless pursuit with no real goal. [He scoffs, rolling his shoulders in a sneer. He had heard rumors of such beliefs as part of heretic travelers. And to be honest, he did not see the appeal. Why would one subject themselves into such vicious cycle of agony and pain when there was something eternal and real to be achieved?]
Here I thought you enjoyed being the monster in the dark, relishing openly in the act of scaring the children and weak? I did not think that presence of people from your world would be enough to force you under the bed.
no subject
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?
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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.
no subject
[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?
no subject
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?
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[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.
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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.
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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?
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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.]
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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.
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The gesture is affectionate and soothing, making Silco's words sound almost romantic. A promise to stand next to him. No matter what.. Richard almost wanted to believe those words. In another life he even might]
... There was once someone I looked at in search of love and acceptance. [He says as he opens his eyes and slowly turns to face the older man. His amber eye peeking underneath the dark locks. The suffocated pain hidden behind his expression yet so evident in his distant voice.] And yet he failed at both. All because of what lies in that book.
[it was utterly unfair to compare Silco to someone like Henry. One was from the darkness when other one was light. But the wound is open now and Richard can't stop his fears and the pain of the past bleeding out. He had frozen his heart and locked away his desires once before. He could bury them with another lover if push really came to shove. He really could do it.. He would do it, just like Silco had said.
But that didn't mean he wanted to.] Don't read it. You've said it yourself. You have no use for the light.
no subject
His fingers lightly closed on the sides of his lover's neck, offering a small massage for the confession. He made a point of shifting, moving his body closer rather than away so that their sides pressed together. He could not believe that he who had done so much others would consider vile would be suddenly turned by a holy book. Quite the opposite, which may be part of the fear too.
Yet, something stood out in thr confession and of course he was curious enough to pursue it regardless of potential discomfort.] Tell me, is that what you are truly searching for, Richard? Love and acceptance?
[He considered the urging to not read the book, his fingers still massaging the back of his lover's neck.] No I have no use of the light for myself, but that doesn't mean that it isn't an advantage to understand. There is power in knowledge. What if I promised you that if I felt tempted by this book, I would immediately stop reading it and bring it to you? You are my source expert on this religion after all. We can seap ourselves in darkness to cleanse me of such temptation?
no subject
[Yes. The ultimate source of power and light - an access to any delight and pleasure in the world. Escape from the sadness and fear for good. Maybe even the memory of Henry would not have such hold over him anymore. The crown was the only thing that truly mattered, and something that Richard could truly touch and possess in his hands. And Silco knew this as they had been over this time after time.
That is what he is searching for, yes. The demon could only gain light and acceptance by stealing. And yet... Witch's words keep echoing in his mind. You can't help but want it.
He can feel the warmth radiating from his lover's body against him as their knees brushed against each other. And he wants nothing more than to lean against the touch, rest his head on the other man's shoulder and allow himself to soothed into comfort. He was so tired. From the separation, Christmas, Joan and the conversation. All of it felt like a force pressing on his skull.
But instead of accepting the rest he reached to grab the fingers massaging his neck. His own hand curls around the digits as he pulls them away.] If going against my request is what you want then so shall be it. But know this, the moment your heart wavers I will baptize you again with your own blood. [Stick to what you know as they say. And for Richard that was threat of lingering violence. But just like always, his words were hardly empty sounds let run loose on the church ceiling. No, he was fully serious. Betrayal of any kind was not to be tolerated.]
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[He knew what light that Richard was chasing, something that he knew all too well. The chase was always more to the point than the end itself. He had found that the end was disappointing when he had reached it, but yet there was more work to be done so he couldn't stop long.]
Do you believe the light inside of that crown and position will bring you happiness?
[Silco was equally tired by their separation, even if it hadn't been abrupt. They had talked about it, and he had accepted it as a necessary reality but being close again, letting some of his guard down reminded him of why he and Richard found each other so often in the past. He could close his eye and rest his temple on Richard's and simply sit quietly with the younger man regardless of the ridiculous decorations of the church.
He sat up again when his fingers were seized and pulled away, and he huffed noisily at Richard's usual theatrics when it came to going against his lover's wishes. It was just a book. He'd read plenty of provocative works of writing in the past and aside from thinking a time on it, little had moved him from his path.] My heart will not waver. [His other hand rose to stroke over the mostly healed scab on his neck where he had been 'baptized' in the past.] Third time is a charm then. Alright, if you see weakness growing in me, make me bleed.
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There is a tightening in Richard's chest as the weight of the question fills in the air. He can feel the weight of it press down at him, the thorns prickling through his leather and sinking deep into his flesh. And Silco's words that followed the initial question only twists his stomach further and allows the discomfort to seep into his open, bleeding wound.
Did Richard believe that? Maybe. He did not know. Who knows, maybe the wretched of the earth living the cursed life while covered in the infectious boils and what not could find light and feel love? Maybe thieves and other miscreants hiding in the shadows could do it? Sinners and heretics? Who knows. But what about men like him and Silco -- those who would devour lives and destroy those around them just to satisfy their dark ambitions? The reason in him says no. People like them can not possess something human like love, not without destroying each other.
That had been the reason why Richard had felt like he could give in his own desires and lean into this relationship. They were kin, in a sense at least, able to lick each other wounds and find comfort in their shared cage. But at the same time he didn't doubt that they would turn their fangs against each other given the opportunity. Wasn't that what their constant warnings for betrayal were all about?
His thoughts take him briefly back to the man that was not in this world. The one who owned half of his soul and had pledged himself to him in body and mind. Buckingham was like Silco, seeking to steal and claim whatever he wished for all while scoffing at the idea of God and Fate. Both of his lovers truly were similar in more ways than one. Could Buckingham love him? Again, he's not sure. Their bond was merely built around the common goal and the only reason they shared bed was to strengthen their resolve -- to prove that they were willing to face the flames of hell together. Nothing more... Correct.
The visible dark eye follows the movement of Silco's free hand as he reaches to touch his neck. The scar had healed nicely, the red cut having turned into barely visible dusty pink and dry line. A proof of the promise behind their bond. There is a small tug in Richard's chest as a familiar feeling stirred within him. It was the damned hope that had awoken during their first meeting all those months ago, raising its persistent head and pushing though the despair.
Inhaling deep, Richard lets go off Silco's hand and slouches forward, resting his elbows against his knees as he crossed his hands, eyes looking down at the floor at their feet. There is a brief and yet heavy silence as he chewed over his own previous outburst.]
Have you felt it, then? Love towards another human being that is not your daughter.
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Humanity and most sentient creatures all needed the same thing: connection. It may be life-long or fleeting, but in togetherness, they found a comfort that isolation tore away and ground to dust. Could love be found in the darkness? He actually believed it was possible, but it would be hot like a forge - uncomfortable - and cold like frozen steel. It would be sharp, painful, made on broken and repaired frames, teetering with jealousy, possessiveness, desperation. It was tainted and ugly like them, a shattered cracked mirror with a kaleidoscope of tiny broken moments.
Love was an unbearable weakness when found in the dark. It was deadly.
His hand followed Richard once it was dropped, settling on the small of his lover's back and stroking affectionately up to between shoulder then back down again. He dug his fingers in lightly through the fabric of Richard's clothing, absently repeating the gesture over and over again. The question paused his fingers for a moment before they returned to their affectionate stroking up and down Richard's back.]
When I was a weak man, yes. [He could admit that much.] It blinded me, softened my spine and left me open for betrayal. [Vander, Felicia. He had loved them both in very different ways, her like a sister, the life of a party who danced and laughed freely, challenged him to fulfill the dream. And him who he had loved strong enough it took his breath away and... well, they were dead now. He'd outlived them all. He reached up and softly drew his fingers down the left side of his face.] The one I loved gave me this. Then love turned to hatred but then... if he hadn't softened and remained weak, I wouldn't have had to kill him.
[A soft sigh as issued from between his lips. A part of him never stopped loving that man, his brother, his rock, his betrayer...]
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The blinding love, one that left you weak and desperate. Clinging on the smallest crumbs of the hope while begging for agony to both end and continue at the same time. He had felt the same. His foolish love for another man had driven him crazy. Was still driving him crazy.
But in Silco's words he hears the one true thing that he need to hear. "When I was a weak man." Silco was not that person anymore and he had, just like Richard, recognized the weakness and pain that such bond would bring. They might be lovers but there would not be love between them. Silco's embrace would never kill him.
He turned his gaze away from Silco and looked at the candlelit altar again. Though this time he was looking for something else, something that was not there. The true light.]
I killed the person I loved the most in a place very similar to this. And I would do it again and again. Until his soul is untethered and torn like a pathetic piece of rug, unrecognizable from what it before was. And I would do it with a joy.
[Just like Silco, Richard also killed the previous himself. He had died along with Henry, leaving behind only the demon. They truly were similar like that. Except no... He might have actually died a long time ago. In that forest where his mother had left him. The realization brings back the confidence to his body language, chasing away the wavering uncertainty and calming down the storm of emotions within him. This time it was not Joan's curses he heard, but the guiding and comforting words of his father. There is solace in solitude. ]
Inside the crown there is a golden circle of light. And within that circle there is the true paradise. The kind what poets and story tellers could only dream of. No need for sadness nor for fear. [He repeats the mantra, answering to Silco's earlier question. Yes. He believed that the crown would bring him happiness. After all, a king could have anything he ever wanted. He would be freed of the demons of the past.] The world is nothing but hell on Earth until the crown is placed on this head.
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It was a fact that neither one of them could entirely trust again. There was too much background, too many slights and betrayals, so they had to focus forward on their goals. In this way, Silco had always felt a connection to Richard that he hadn't felt with anyone else, not even his own daughter.
Yet his gaze moved from watching the back of Richard's head to look across the altar with all its little decorations and candles bathing the place in light. His fingers dragged over the spot between his lover's shoulder blades, and he considered the tale being woven for him. It was more details that he supposed he had given about his own lover.]
What betrayal did this person do against your person to provoke such a response? This is supposed to be a holy place according to you, and you killed a man under the eye of your God. That's... bold.
[He knew what it was like though, to wish to repeat that moment over and over again, to claim the victory and prove everyone who thought they could be redeemed or brought to heel wrong. He had drive the knife into Vander's back and then front, had looked into those gray eyes and felt a momentary heat when he knew that he had won, that he had overcome a greater enemy and completed his transformation to something more. No longer would he be that dirty little thing of the undercity.
Yet, he sighed from his nose as the same old tale was spoken of. He'd seen the crown and hadn't thought much of it, but he could tell that Richard was drive to achieve that.] And will you bring about a Hell to those that prevented and stood in your path from achieving this golden light? It seems to me that the higher in the political world one ventures, the more inherent dangers there are, but these knives are cloaked behind smiles and ambition. It seems you might be happy but walking into a larger fight at the same time.
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Even their journey's followed a similar path. A life overshadowed by oppressive power, choking them out and forcing them in the quiet and resigned role determined for them by nation. They both had found a dream -- which only was stolen away by a betrayal, leaving behind only a husk, a shadow of their former selves.
And now Silco was asking the story behind the betrayal that happened all those years ago, the event that had killed his previous, weak self. Richard eyes were focused on the altar, mind revisiting that evening. But strangely enough, he felt nothing. No panic, fear or pain -- just a distant recollection.]
..He called me a demon. [He answers after a brief silence. That's right, Henry had seen him for who he was and failed to love him. He had murdered his heart and Richard took his life. It had been inevitable.
Richard then turned his head to look into his lover's eyes, his own expression now confident and unwavering. ] The politics are nothing but another battleground. And just like with war the stakes are high, life or death. And that is exactly why men like us do what we do. We fight, Silco. The moment we stop we enter to our graves.
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In order to thrive, they had to kill the weakness inside of themselves, to make that decision to keep fighting no matter the cost. And this man, this Henry who had once been King, had given that life-altering choice that he had once faced with him. Die under the weight, or fight for something worth believing, worth striving for.]
And you embraced what he called you on his corpse. Those of us who wish to be more have to step beyond the titles laid over us to become something more.
[He met Richard's gaze evenly, and the corner of his lips twitched at the truthful words. A war of words and ambition was as dangerous as a war of ones fists or weapons.] We all wage our own wars for our own ambition and perhaps... [He reached out and ran the back of his knuckles against Richard's smooth cheek.] to prove them all that those titles bestowed on us like a curse are little more than motivation to put a boot on their throats. The fear of death should never stop us from accomplishing what we need to.
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At first Richard thinks of leaving Silco with the misconception. But allowing it would only twist the events of that night further, it would mix his hatred and shame together with his ambition.]
...Nay. It wasn't him who awoke the demon and made me accept my true nature. [Buckingham had dragged him out of his shell and forced him to admit his darkest desire as he was screaming and kicking. Yet another night which's events he could not be certain. There had been tears, blood and pain -- that much he knew. But at what point had the reality began and dream ended? That he did not know.
But it was all thanks to that night that they were here now together. Without his kingmaker's persistence and ability to see Richard beyond the body, he would have died a long time ago without ever knowing the touch of another person. Without Buckingham he would not have accepted Silco.
He briefly closes his eyes, focusing on the slow and gentle drag of bony knuckle against his cheek. He nearly leans into it but stops himself. He loathes the way Silco could just disarm him and make him weak with just simple touch.]
What of you Silco? [Richard opens his eyes again, staring right into his lover's mismatched eyes.] Where does your current fight take you? What is the the future that you seek?
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Buckingham. Richard's other half. Richard's soul mate. Richard's... waste of space conniving jealous little man operating from the shadows.
Unfortunately, their similarities were enough that even Silco was aware of them, but he prided himself on not being such a prick when it came to his relationship with Richard. After all, they seemed to enjoy one another's company in more than sex, and their plotting and scheming antics were more foreplay than something that they currently put in motion.]
Your other half then. [Silco decided to not put a name to the title. He wouldn't give the other man that kind of humanization on purpose.] And now you have found your footing again on your own here without him. Embracing who you are is entirely personal once one has the confidence.
[His knuckles drew down and he was perceptive enough to note the aborted idea of leaning in. His hand turned over once it reached Richard's jawline, sliding his palm and fingers up along that smooth cheek. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them, intent to disarm his lover after they had spent so much time apart with barely fleeting encounters. He nudged the tips of their noses together.]
I fight for control; if there is a method to control this place, it means stability and progress. We can remove our enemies with blade and whatever weapon and make certain they cannot return. We can stop those from challenging even arriving and disrupting things. [He paused, thumb stroking over Richard's cheek.] I thought... my daughter would take the reigns of my legacy if I brought this place to heel, but her interest in that has... waned. The future appears to be something I must consider.
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But he considers Silco's words. Had he truly found a way to stand on his own? The nightmares and Joan would have him think differently. Was he not still leaning on the crutch provided by someone else? Expecting someone else to chase away the monsters lurking in his and guiding him out of the forest.
But speaking of the crutch? Richard stays still as Silco closes the gap between them. He can feel the hot air of his lover's breath tingling against his face. He remembers the conversations they had all those months ago, when they were still strangers to each other. They had talked about legacies, the power and control, the empire of dirt. And Jinx, of course. As long as she was in picture Richard knew that he and Silco could never truly share same goal, and that in the end the two monsters would have to turn on against one another.
But now there was a 'we' present in his words.
And perhaps for the first time he does not reciprocate the closeness nor lean into his lover's touch, despite his body screaming him to do so. Instead he turns his head away and withdraws so that his back presses against the bench. He continues to stay quiet for another moment, Joan's previous curses echoing in the back of his mind. 'You can't help but seek for it.' 'Do not expect for a happy ending.']
I see. [He says eventually with a deep sigh, his shoulders relaxing.] The time spent away from you must have shaped her thoughts, bringing new troubles to plague her mind. You need to be with her now more than ever.
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No doubt the topic of the book revolving around Richard's religion remained a point of contention, but he was convinced that nothing in those words would move him to do more than scoff. And the topic of Richard's ascent to the crown was one that they had discussed, though perhaps he should lessen his rising dislike for this 'other half'. It wasn't as if the man was currently a threat to what they had.
No that threat remained his daughter who, by all measure, had completed an about face and was encouraging his relationship with Richard to flourish. His resistance was unfounded, based in fear of losing her. It was clearly a trap, a gotcha that she had set to remind him of his priorities.
He slowly pulled back when Richard did not reciprocate his affections, which was... odd. That was unusual, given his lover's craving for physical attention. The only time it failed to move the younger man was when they were actively in disagreement, so this cold shoulder briefly flummoxed him. He sat back and considered, his gaze watching the younger man next to him as he mulled over the list of possibilities based on the topics and their exchanges, picking them apart each word at a time.]
So it would seem. She had progressed, become and seemingly abandoned being a revolutionary force. This place had decided to bring in more troubles from my world for her to tangle with. [His arm stretched across the back of the pew so he could settle his hand at the back of Richard's neck, trying again to draw his lover out with physical affection.] However, I am here with you tonight, if you wish me to stay with you. It's been... some time since we spent time together.
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wrap?
u don't get to drop that on him and wrap :| he gets last word