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

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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 confession had forced its way out of Richard, ripping at the edges of his old wounds. The sheer strength of it left him feel shaken and almost lightheaded. If it wasn't for the fingers gently caressing the sensitive spot on his neck he would have bolted from his seat and put some distance between them. But as things were he stayed still, closing his eyes as his lover continued stroking his pale neck.

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.

Edited 2025-01-25 00:11 (UTC)

[Another? That didn't sound like Richard's kingmaker given the infatuation that normally came with such mentions. No this was someone else, someone who had turned their back on Richard. Was it truly due to the contents of the book he had in his jacket pocket or some other reason? Perhaps another male liaison? Richard continually blamed that cursed body, so he could fathom rejection hitting hard especially if this was an experience from younger Richard.

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. [The answer is hasty, erupting from him almost immediately. Henry had been nothing more than illusion. A false king shining down a false light, the warm and secure arms only spreading death and misery. Richard had sworn that he would no longer chase after such fragmented, transient light -- no matter how Joan protested, shifting his words and blurring the lines between truth and lies.] I do not search for something that is not there. [Not anymore.] There is only one light that I am after.

[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.]

[A bit too quick to be fully believed as far as Silco was concerned. He wondered if Richard was actually convinced of that pseudotruth, or if the younger man had simply told himself this mantra over and over again enough that it was the only truth he would haze himself in.] You don't believe that love can be found in the darkness? [He made a point of making a soft noise as if he were considering his own question.] Unfortunate for you that I accept you as you are, and we exist in the dark as you say.

[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.

['---don't you believe that love can be found in the darkness?

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.

[He wondered which of the questions had sent Richard into complete internalized self-reflection, and he supposed that he could guess. There was one subject that they both seemed to keep at arm's length, and yet, they proposed it now and again to see what the other would do. The slow knife tapping against the armour that they wrapped themselves in, seeking a weakness in the frame so that the blade could slip in and find the soft sensitive flesh beneath, to bleed, to hurt, to remember.

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...]

[Richard turned his head subtly to the side as he listened to his lover's answer. The golden-amber eye continued to stay hidden under his ebony hair, but the shift in his expression was still distinct enough. He could feel Silco's words to resonate with him and he immediately knew who this loved one was. The older man had before spoken of someone he had thought as a brother. A man who he had trusted and built plans for future with. Someone who were to betray and mutilate both his face and soul forever. Now, he was not privy to the details that had gone between them, but he could still see the picture before him clearly. Because he had gone through the same.

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.

[Their similar stories despite the eras and classes that they grew up in was part of what attracted him to Richard. The younger man had overcome so much, fought so hard, sought after a seemingly impossible dream. Just like him. They had both been born in the darkness, though his own had come with little fanfare but it remained a truth that it was shocking both of them had survived infancy and childhood given the environment. They had been weak, supported by stronger men through and then learned the hard way to find their own feet.

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.

[There was no denying the similarities between their stories. Silco might as well be the one person he shares the most common ground with. They were both power hungry and ruthless, stopping at nothing to achieve their goals and resist the destiny. They were the wolf in sheep clothing, hiding in plain sight under shepherd's nose.

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.

[He considered for a long moment, though the explanation needed limited thought. He could understand the the sentiment; taking on a title that others deemed repulsive, wrapping oneself in that identity so that it became armour rather than weakness. It seemed they both readily came to a point in their lives where the embraced the choice that would set them free to choose their own paths towards the golden light that Richard was so fond of seeking as a salvation.

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.

[Henry truly had sealed both of their fates that night when he had spoken out the prophecy. But he hadn't been the first one to curse him so, no. Both his mother and Joan had cursed him similarly his entire life. And neither had Henry been the one to awaken the demon within him. No, the previous king had murdered his heart, left it to rot in the ever bleeding wound that rekt of darkness and death. Richard had navigated in that frozen state for so many years until someone else came along, dug up the corpse and brought it back to alive with the words of magic.

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?

[Silco considered that, even if the scars of that first love were plain as day on Richard's body, the weight it had placed upon the younger man. The title had hung about Richard's neck for a long time, and he was reminded of only one person that had risen in conversation who had allowed Richard to fully embrace who he could be under that title.

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.

Hm. [Richard stays quiet, merely humming softly as he listened to Silco's estimation on his other half. Was that contempt he was sensing behind his lover's words? Richard knew that Buckingham was hardly the most likeable personality, not with his shameless ambitions, bold moves and sharp tongue that would turn lies into truth -- that would bring the crown down on a demon's head. But neither of his lovers had met each other -- nor did they pose a danger or anything to like to one another.

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.

[Richard's quiet hums and additions to conversation were hardly rare, least of all after their little debate. Often the younger man would withdraw and become insular and more often than not, Silco would allow that to happen. He remained a steady presence regardless, and he had learned how draw Richard back out to him little-by-little over the months that they had spent together.

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.

[There was no any further attempt to pull away or create distance between them on Richard's part. He stayed seated and allowed the touch on his neck, inhaling deep through his nose he closed his eyes for a brief moment and granted himself a brief moment of indulgence.

He hadn't seen Jinx since her return, but he had eyed the post she had made on the network upon her arrival. It had been confusing and mindless, but that was the the norm for Jinx as far as Richard was concerned. So, to his eyes there hadn't been any major differences in the girl's behavior, so he remained oblivious to her changed stance when it came to their relationship. Richard was partly waiting for the other shoe to drop and her to start her usual harassment campaign against him. But if she truly had 'outgrown' her father's cause... then that would no doubt cause a ripple between the father and daughter duo. All the more reason for Silco to stay with her. The man would need to ensure that his empire would not perish and turn into dirt.

And yet he was here with him, just like the man had said. Whitey might have led him here but he had followed the boar out of his free will, choosing to engage in conversation with him despite the distraught daughter waiting at home. His chest tightens in his chest under the ice.

What Richard wanted was clear. It always was.]

What do you wish to do, then?

[If Richard wouldn't come to him, Silco would move to him now that he noted his hand had not been rejected. He shifted closer on the pew, sliding his arm across Richard's shoulders and moving to draw the younger man against his side as he leaned his face in to press his lips lightly Richard's temple.

Perhaps he had been reluctant to venture out tonight, but now that he was here, he found himself reluctant to leave. Since Jinx had returned, he had not made much time for Richard, prioritizing his daughter given her current state of mind. Yet, he breathed in the familiarity of his lover's scent, he relaxed subtly.]

I'm not sure, but anything with you suits me fine. How have you been sleeping these last weeks, hmm?

[He made a point of adding a small kiss to Richard's temple after the question. Neither of them were particularly good sleepers, yet they had managed to find an odd solace of the activity together.]

I'll stay until morning, if you like. We can stay here or go elsewhere. Your choice.

[And just like that, Silco had worked his magic once again. Because the moment Richard felt the lips press against his temple through his dark hair and inhale his scent, he knew he had no other choice than to let go. Once again he found himself disarmed in his lover's hands and forced to let go of the worries, anxieties and what not that were raising a storm within him.

A quiet sigh leaves from his lips and he presses his eyelids close again. The ice was thawed, revealing an aching heart underneath the frost -- yearning for the closeness and affection. Richard leaned in against his lover's chest, head resting on the man's collar. There might never be love between them and this is might as well be as far as they ever go... But right now that was more than enough. As long as they could stay close here like this.

How had he been sleeping? Well, Silco most likely knew the answer to that: badly. It had taken him some time to get used to the empty space in his bed and lack of the warmth. Sleeping alone had gotten easier, yes, but the nights were still full of terrors for him. The curse would come back to him, forcing its way through the small cracks of his mind and kept him awake until the morning rays.]

I'm tired, Silco. [Tired of being afraid, tired of Joan and her curses, tired of pretending to be something that he is not. Tired of being alone.] Just tired..

[It was easy to experience the surrender, and as always, persistence could be the key to winning his lover over, especially after time apart. His arm draped more around Richard's narrow but muscled shoulders as his lover leaned against his chest, and he tipped his head up as he felt that head to his collar. He made a point of resting his chin on the crown of his lover's head, sigh quietly leaving his nose.

He hadn't realized how tense he had been until that moment when he too surrendered into the closeness. There was always the linger concern for rejection or that Richard might choose to physically remove him. Now, he shifted to spread his legs with feet flat on the floor and his blue eye closed as he basked in the closeness. He could be a different form of himself with Richard, unburdened by most concerns.]

Mmm, I suspected as much. [And he knew it wasn't just physically tired. They both wore the necessary masks to the world, claiming their titles like a curse against the world. He tipped his chin and kissed the top of Richard's head.] We should try to rest. It's always... easier with you.

[A testament to the trust he could place in his lover. Sleep was one of the most intimate gestures in his mind, when one was in a prolonged state of vulnerability.]

[It is a little awkward position to be in with Richard leaned his upper body against Silco, head resting right below the man's chin. The benches were narrow, clearly not planned for two people to engage in this kind of closeness comfortably. But Richard found himself less caring about that. He could feel the storm of emotions to die out within his mind just as his breath calmed down in his lover's arms.

While he knew that they could not possibly stay here in the church for long and risk the keeper to find them like this. But rest sounded way too tempting for him to refuse, especially now that he felt exhausted. As if he had just came back from a long and taxing battle. His body relaxed further, going almost lax against the older man.]

..I know that the God isn't here. I knew it the moment I arrived to this world. He would never choose to shine His light on me. [He's not exactly sure why he whispered this confession, or whether it was more aimed to Silco or to himself. It was an admittance that none of this was real, that he was very well aware that he was still clinging on his own chains of oppression, rattling them in desperation in the slight case that just maybe the God would see him. All these attempts to deceive and play the role of a proper Christian while hiding his true nature once again, all for someone who had forsaken him a long time ago. But at the same it was an acknowledgement that he would not stop chasing after what he desired, no matter how much pain it might bring.

From the corner of his eye he can see the familiar white transient shape looming above them. Though for once, he could not feel the calamity from Joan. He could not see the expression on her face but at the same time he wasn't really interested to look up, either.]

You were right. [This time the words were not aimed at either of them but to the ghost. As much as Richard hated to admit it, the truth was that Joan was right most of times. She knew him better than anyone else, had always known. She had seen right into his dark heart ever since he was a child.

He could not help but remember the last night he spent with Buckingham. It had been the night before the hunt and defamation of his nephews. The crown would be theirs and they would no longer need to show the proof of their covenant. But at the same time, they had been unable to let go of themselves. And Richard finds himself from repeating the same words that his kingmaker had said to him back then:]

Our pact is not sex alone. So... just be with me, Silco.

Edited 2025-02-20 15:20 (UTC)

[He doubted that the brute had thought of making this place more comfortable to limit both visitors and squatters. The pew was fine to sit on short-term, but Silco had not come equipped with appropriate physical padding for a long-term stay. Yet, he was hesitant to leave and suggest comfortable lodging, not with Richard holding onto him and this place apparently holding enough meaning to require such celebratory decorations in the first place.

He turned his head at the whispered words, offering a soft hum of acknowledgement and feeling no urge to add to it. He expected that was a private thought that had slipped passed those lips. Perhaps Richard thought that saying them outloud to encourage the younger man to even believe them one day. Yet, as if to punctuate that this Light not shining by a God wasn't important, he tipped his head to plant a kiss on his lover's crown. There was no God; there were just people with enough ego to think they were one and lord it over the rest of them.]

I usually am right. It's a gift and a curse. [He, of course, couldn't see Joan and had no idea those words were aimed at her and not an observance of the two of them.

He suddenly sat forward, rolling his narrow shoulders to slide out of his thick jacket and shook it out in front of him. He paused at the words regarding their pact, and he looked at Richard, surveying the younger man's expression even as the corner of his lips quirked in a smirk. He shifted up the pew so he could pull one leg up and let the other dangle off the side as he lay down and gestured for Richard to come and lay down upon him so he could use his jacket as a blanket to cover them both over.]

Oh, Richard, this has never been about just sex. I value your company and all of our interactions in whatever form they take. [He folded an arm under his head and regarded his lover, expression bemused as if he were stating the most obvious observance in the world.] I will stay with you all night, Richard. Come, let us rest.

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wrap?

u don't get to drop that on him and wrap :| he gets last word