sirenspull_logs | late night date

Entry tags:

late night date

Who: judge (

iudex), jury (

littlest_lord) and executioner (

psychopath)
When: oct 15th, wee hours of morning
Where: all over the port right up into Phantomhive manor
Summary: A romantic walk in the Port! Featuring gross flesh wounds and broken curfews. (Oswald goes to pick Jack up for being truant, horrible things ensue.)
Warnings: said gross flesh wounds. Cursing. Gratuitous angst. Possibility of pie gallows.

[jack, all in all, was having a fairly good day. Enjolras was in AGI's hands, he still had til sunrise to sneak back into Phantomhive manor, and hey, no amount of Chain-induced weakness would bring his mood down.

Instead it does, and he's lying on his back on some sidewalk in the middle of Sector 4. His motorcycle's parked across the street, and so is his helmet; Jack's just preoccupied with catching his breath because holy shit, using B. Rabbit was an endeavor in endurance. He couldn't remember it being this hard to use him.

Belatedly, he thinks, he should check up on Oz later. But for now, he'll just lie down on cobblestone at one in the morning and watch the stars. Hopefully he has at least five minutes before any sort of monster approaches (again).]

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[...but can he push away from the wall? can he? he can, his life nothing but pain right now. he can make room for some pie to (jack's) face and immediately pushes away to snatch one up.]

I'll take the back. [yeah jack he's

he's coming for your hair and sliding over with pie in hand.]

_{[Brilliant. Double teaming always works better than a one angled approach.

Thus Ciel reaches out his tiny hand, gently brushing a few strands of gold out of Jack's face before, with a smile, PRESSING THE PIE right into the man's face.

He twists the pie just for good measure, before pulling it back, watching as lumps of pie fall from the man's face onto his lap and the floor, the remaining disaster having smeared brilliantly over his skin.

He loves you Jack, honest.]}

[Jack will just splutter here and die quietly from the gallows thank you.

Oswald, revenge will be sweet and bloody tasty, just you wait...! There's pie in his face and pie in his hair and oh god he'll just ineffectually try to wipe it off.]

[not even a problem. the gallows were effective, oswald sees. splendid, right jack?? he happily smeared it down your plait too and just kind of leans back and...

and leaves what the pie was in on jack's head and returns to the wall. can't even enjoy himself like this, gosh!!] Have you done what you needed to, Ciel?

[nnnot to ruin ciel's sadistic buzz, but he'd like to be excused. bring your revenge on, jack!! oswald can take it.]

_{[Ciel doesn't answer immediately. He's too busy stuffing his little hands into the last pie, grabbing fistfuls of it to put down the front and back of Jack's jacket and shirt. It's clearly obvious Ciel's enjoying himself maybe a little too much. The Earl does have a sadistic streak to him, after all.

When he's finished he cups Jack's cheeks in his palms, smearing thumbs against skin, as if he's wiping away invisible pie tears. Yes, leave him alone.]}

Yes, I'm done. _{[He addresses Oswald first, even though he's staring at Jack.]} Be good now, and go to bed after a bath. Don't you dare sneak out again or you'll be choking on pie next time.

_{[With that he pulls away, but not before swiping a finger down the bridge of Jack's nose. There's some cream there and yup, the finger's stuck right past his lips.]}

Oh, and be sure to clean up the mess Jack. It isn't fair to leave it for Gilbert now, is it?

_{[And with that Ciel's pitter pattering toward the doorway, a sweet smile on his lips.]}

Goodnight, to both of you. Jack, I'll see you for breakfast.

_{[Time to go, which is exactly what Ciel's decided, leaving then to wash his hands off and climb back into bed with Alois, thoroughly satisfied.]}

[Jack stares at where Ciel's been for a good minute, wondering where the hell did Ciel pull that out from? And then he remembers what sort of broken child Ciel is and he just- sighs out cream and trots to the sink.

Most of it can be washed from his face and hands but his hair and jacket are lost causes. He stalks past Oswald and sniffs haughtily at him, almost offended.]

Pie gallows. [he makes a face. an 'I feel gross right now' face.] Come on then, you can wash my hair because this is your fault.

[He's-- only half-joking, maybe they could conserve water and time and just crowd the bath.]

[again this is an instance where oswald would roll his eyes if he were a sassy person, but he is not so the most that he does he watch jack. as usual. pie gallows, huh? well, whatever that... was, jack deserved it for going out, and it assuages oswald's own worn out anger for the moment.

- wow so readily blaming it on him. oswald wonders how much else jack blames on him, but. no. banishing that thought. not tonight.]

I don't mind washing your hair. [even without the blame put on him, ty. eyeballing the mess. right.]

You're not going to clean it up?

I'll clean it in the morning.

[i.e., when you're asleep. Jack makes his way to Oswald's rooms (yes he's decided, the bathtub might be big enough; if it isn't well, tight fit then!) and yes, that is a pout he's throwing over his shoulder.]

You don't even know how long it is! [he mutters, annoyed at Life; as much as he wants to strip oswald of his clothing, he's not entirely too sure pie and open wounds should mix.

He looks belatedly at a hand; there's already blood smeared over his wrist and he absently rubs it on his pie'd jacket.]

Edited 2012-10-20 05:11 (UTC)

[right. in the morning.] While you're cooking?

[does he sound amused that might sound amused - gosh no need to pout. oswald follows him faithfully and lets his eyes trrrail over jack's plait. well. he'd say "not as bad as lacie", but he doubts that would count for anything. it's lovely hair.] I have some idea.

[what does count is that he comes up close behind him and reaches out, going to snatch jack's hand (for the umpteenth time tonight) and- stopping, pulling back, and honestly it makes him angry that jack would be hurt but jack is far more of a reckless fool that oswald could ever be. oswald can barely keep himself from speaking, grabbing jack up regardless of punishment pie, and examining it himself.

all in due time. he bites his tongue on that.]

Hey, I can cook! I can make you breakfast too, lord sleepyhead.

[He sounds affronted that Oswald would ever question his cooking skills (however nobody will ever hold a candle to Gil's cooking), and makes a disparaging sound once they reach Oswald's rooms. Well. How would this work.

Jack's oblivious to the severity of his arm's injury, a gash of a thing crossing the inside of his elbow from bicep to forearm, that probably needs stitches-- well! He'd been thinking it was just some cut.]

Mm, I think you should have the bathroom first. [LIKE HE'S THE ROOM'S INTENDED OCCUPANT, YES.] How's the bleeding?

I'll look forward to it.

[no, really, he will. master glen couldn't cook to save his life and lacie would forget everything, so this outta be.. fun... whatever that is, of course.

and then that's said and NOPE. staring staring staring.]

You're the one with pie on you - go. I can wait. [doesn't.. answer.... the question, nope, he doesn't want to think about it bc it's actually pretty bad. waiting for wounds to heal is a bitch.

- oh wait. that's right. out loud after thought:] - I have to wash your hair. [whelp guess he's going, too.]

[Jack glares at him suspiciously, but he- well, Oswald still looks as right as bloody rain, maybe his wounds are healing faster...? He hmphs and stomps into the bathroom, waiting for Oswald to get in.]

Can you unplait it for me, then? [Wow he's really going to wash Jack's hair, this is weird. He unzips his jacket (pie and cream going splat on tile) and steps out of his boots,] I'll just-

[oops oh shit he forgot about - the jacket drops to the floor in a pile of bloody cream and oh, wow, his sleeve's stuck to his arm. He tugs at it tentatively and rips the clotting blood off, hand starting to drip drip drip blood on the tiles.

There's a pause, an awkward one.]

I- think I'll just wash my own hair, you can wait outside.

[He says cheerfully, lifting his good arm and proceeding to try and herd Oswald out! Yep. Nothing to see here!!]

I'll be done in ten!

[just kind of follows jack in like he usually does, passively listening to him talk - he likes the sound of jack's voice after six months without (this won't change, he feels) - eyes glued to his arm as jack starts shedding -] Of course.

[and then -]

[son of a-

he's going to hang him by his plait.]

[no, no, calm down, jack is human and stupid and he should have expected this from the beginning. and then jack tugs at his sleeve and

more

blood.

a h.]

[no, he is definitely not letting himself be herded out of the bathroom! as a matter of fact he remains an unmovable statue short of lashing out to grab jack's good arm and a towel from elsewhere and- how dare you try to herd me out of the bathroom!!]

You will not! [he might be mad. who knows. wooooosaaaaah calm down--]

Raise your arm. [look he's already moving to help and he doesn't seem to be in a good enough mood to start handing out free will as he turns on jack quick and lets his arm go in his frustration so that he can tie the towel around the wounded arm.]

[nope, absolutely not handing out free will today too buttmad STUPID HUMANS STUPID JACK STUPID NIGHT!!]

And you call me a prat. [INTERNAL ANGRY GRUMBLING AS HE TIES.]

It's just a scratch, silly, it doesn't matter. You're more injured than I am, thusly- prat.

[But the pie and the-- stickiness, and Jack lets out a breath as he reclaims his arm long enough to remove his shirt. It's gross and it's bleeding angrily because Jack is an idiot; it absolutely needs stitches.

Jack looks very unconcerned about this and tries tugging his arm back GIVE IT BACK IT'S FINE COME ON. To be honest, at this point, he's more concerned about getting himself unsticky enough so that Oswald can be properly tended to.]

I'll- take care of it before I clean the kitchen, all right? Let me go-

[He's fascinated, really, wow, why is Oswald so angry, he was the one who had a gazillion wounds! Jack should be pissed at him, not the other way around.]

I heal and you do not - [do we have to go through this again really?? he's making grabby hands for jack's other hand already, moving it over the towel and jack can shut up really.

jack's yandere vision makes - well, a few (... right. he's healing shut up) into a gazillion and oswald easily forgets the pain, jack's shirtlessness, and that fatigue for this. a scratch it may be in jack's head, but oswald's so caught up in what to do next that he just doesn't compute it to that.]

Apply pressure to it- no, that's not all right and I'll absolutely not let you go, Jack. [if oswald could sneer, that would almost be it right there. he only barely manages to calm his shit before he snaps his head up and ends up probably nosebumping jack again. too close, too close, too close for his anger to keep up- gosh.

breathe.

right. (he thinks he has jack's blood on his hands and he really doesn't want to think about that.) stitches, he needs thread–]

Where can I find thread? [–ah!] —a needle as well.

[y u p sure is thinking of stitching jack up. :T]

I'll not bleed out.

[Jack startles when Oswald looks up, and he quickly looks down at his arm and dutifully presses the towel against it. It's not an artery; he'll live, and he wants to tell Oswald this, but the other man looks so...intent on patching him up and Jack realises that he likes it.

Oswald cares and is his best friend and he's- tending to Jack even when he's injured, himself, and it makes his chest ache. Jack breathes out.]

Drawers over there, I think? [Every bathroom here has a first-aid kit underneath the mirror, drawers under the sink and the countertop.]

Hey, maybe you can cross-stitch me. [He quirks, half-smile in an attempt to lighten the situation up.]

[jack is lucky he has a hold on that towel or oswald would have snapped it back and squeezed it around jack's wound until it really hurt so that he would see the severity of the situation. ....except no he wouldn't have, but it's a very tempting thought. very, very tempting, but he opts for a glare and to stop thinking about violent things.

he is not violent and jack's already hurt (and suicidal, as he's heard, and that puts a cap on his anger and shuts it off).

there's no need to make it worse, and he tells himself this as he shuffles about to snatch what he needs from the drawers and set it- somewhere, oswald doesn't care as long as it's within reach.

a pause. he has the thread and the needle and- and there's not enough time to boil it is.. there.... shit he didn't hesitate to knock jack out, but when it comes to asking jack to pinch the injured skin together so that he can stitch it up... setting a hand over jack's on the towel. he's steady, but -]

...do you want it to hurt more than it already will? [bland, unimpressed, and worried above all else.]

[jack's already holding the edges of the wound together, blinking up at him through watery eyes because, it stings. It hurts, actually, now that Oswald's said it, and he sighs out.]

Why are you even asking? Goodness.

[he smiles at the bathroom tile. It's a pleasant thought that Oswald could theoretically make him pay for his sins, here in the port; whatever pain the man would give him, jack would take it and cherish it. Perhaps it could be the only thing that is his.]

Just do it. It's just me.

[oswald doesn't shake; watery eyes embed themselves into his memory, and he doesn't whine or shake not even on the inside where everything is cobwebs of emotion and the memories of glen baskerville. he's too old for things like this now, but he still feels the pinpricks of despair crawling over his skin and -

he has to shut this down and reboot on safety mode. this is ridiculous, but he does so hate seeing jack in pain longer than he has to be.

'it's just me.']

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UMM HOLY SHIT CIEL (unsure)

thank god for being a duke and cielproof (unsure)

so as long as you're not jackproof we're good

he couldn't be jackproof even if he tried

YES GOOD LOVE ME FOREVER X-(

how did that translate to love in your oswald to normal person dictionary (unsure)!!

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[3/3] yan lyfe you can't stop me!!

[1/a day in the yan lyfe]

[2/can so totally stop you]

[3/5?] except when i can't FML

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