evil stepmother jack vessalius (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
psychopath) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-10-16 10:21 am
psychopath) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-10-16 10:21 am
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).]
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).]
no subject
the rabbit. right. he'll go cuddle the rabbit.] I need to finish yours, too.
[mummifyin' arms every step of the way! he only realizes that he has to strip out of his pants too when he gets up and. n...o...... his valiant attempt to keep his eyes on jack's face is successful at least :(]
no subject
You first. [HOPEFULLY oswald would fall asleep before he gets to touch jack's arm...
Jack steps out of the tub and reaches for a million towels (four), tying one around his waist and another one around his hair. he picks at his stitches a little bit and oops there we go tie-dyed white towel with blood, no worries.]
I'm not going to look! Honestly, it's just me.
[jack says by the way of a reassurance, handing the towels to oswald and turning away so he can-- get out of the tub with dignity! and pants!
and oswald shouldn't mind jack because he's stepping out of his boxers and shoving them with his trousers. because what is shame.]
no subject
Fine. [getting your way here dude, but he's not falling asleep. he's going to touch a lot more than your arm, too--
why is jack picking at his stitches why is this a thing that's happening- oswald reserves every right to chew him out for it in as little words as possible with his most scathing stare. in the morning. after he steals a kiss and ends that want near where it hatched.
shame is that white dove on oswald's shoulder telling him to LOOK AWAY THAT IS YOUR FRIEND AND THIS IS INAPPROPRIATE, and to huff something tired and exhausted in response. he does look away too, and waits until jack isn't looking to pitch fluffy white over an angry red wound. his pants and boxers soon follow with a towel not that far behind tyvm and easy enough to wrap around his waist and push forward out of the tub.
and, possibly, right out of the bathroom because an oswald in just a towel is a very uncomfortable oswald.
anything to not think about nekkid... well, naked anything. clothes. he will put clothes on, yup, he can do that. will do that. if he doesn't stumble and die first.]
no subject
[and jack will just...follow after him like an overly noisy puppy, resolving to pick up the mess in the bath (and kitchen) in the morning. right now he'll just give up on his hair and rummage in oswald's closet-]
-- your clothes are all the same! Have you never heard of color! Ladies would be all over you if you just --
[idle chatter, because it occurs to jack that oswald might kick him out or something.]
Oy, tell me when I can look at you, Oswald.
no subject
[more common sense that he's still the one true lawful judge of, trying to locate pants and kind of... attempting with some difficulty to filter jack's voice out. no bleeding on his shirts, vessalius! he's in enough of his right mind to idly pat the rabbit plush on the head as he walks on by it on his way to pants - and boxers, things that he doesn't know that he has or how he got to them until they're in his hand and he might've had to work around jack once -
but, that's fine. only slightly affronted because that subject is an annoyance he'd rather not have:] I don't want ladies all over me—
[nnnope. he doesn't want anyone in his personal space bubble to be completely honest, but people like jack have the tendency to bypass that for one reason or another. (there was someone else, too, and another, but oswald can specifically remember a gun shot—)
everything is pain and only a glen's cooing can numb it for the moments he takes to get into his clothes and register what jack's said. and. and, he likes his clothes and his singular color scheme.
...he should have kicked jack out.]
—you can look.
[oswald's not, though. he's balling up the towel he had on his waist and venturing to his bed, debating whether or not to plant his face into it regardless of his wound. passing out sounds nice.]
no subject
[okay, now he's using his Hero of Sablier voice, don't be stubborn, oswald. somehow he's worked his way into oswald's clothes, and he has to roll up his pants legs because why are you taller than jack :(
one of oswald's shirts hang off jack's shoulders as he procures a roll of bandages and fasteners and antiseptic like he already knows where they are by heart (oops) and he frowns at oswald.
knee on his bed and-]
...how long before you heal completely?
no subject
shaking his head, still. he hears that he's too lenient, and maybe that's true.
oswald has his priorities in a different order and he's knocking the rabbit on his pillow and pinpointing the- ah, you better've grabbed double everything :( oswald trusts enough that he sits on the bed even though he has to get up again to grab a shirt, looking over at jack before he can stop himself.
...yes, how long? hm. he remembers having a wound similar to this when he fought with those noctaere that invaded his drea- (nonono, shut down, nothing is safe not even his dreams can't he just pull up a dreamfield that's nothing but grass and flowers and sweet, blissful peace
he could, but with the risk of pulling jack into his dream it's—)
turning his stare somewhere else. thinking, this one is.]
Not too long... an hour at the least if I manage to fall asleep. [the other wounds took longer, but they varied too: ten minutes to thirty to an hour to ten to a day to a month to two months—— oswald didn't like that it dulled his healing. he knew he wouldn't die, but it was still...
...nightmare-inducing, those things. he can't sleep without seeing them anymore, hence the "if i manage to fall asleep".]
no subject
[not...like jack watches him sleep or anything! okay maybe he does. sometimes. it's a perfectly normal thing to do. for jack.
he dabs antiseptic on angry red flesh (sullenly welling clear fluid, now, good, they're healing) and sits close to oswald, hair still dripping down his back. round and round the bandages go, and jack shivers, because he quite not (suddenly) remembers glen falling apart, bandages like these.]
Did...something happen in the world you came from?
no subject
staying... where he is, then, and finally looking back at jack when the bandages go round and round. there, there.]
...yes, something happened. [something always happens. there was no reprieve, not even in his dreams.
never in his dreams, actually, but. hm. he's not disclosing anything more than that at this moment though, mouth firmly shut, and he waits for jack to finish. (one day, he imagined ending up like master glen - falling apart at the seams without any hope of going back.)]
no subject
[he murmurs, sad and hopelessly, hopelessly in love, because a world where the people he loves are unhappy is a world not worth living in. (that's a thought!) he tugs the bandages taut and secures them in place, fingers lingering.]
If ... you need someone to listen, I'd listen to you. 's what friends are for.
[he suggests, apprehensively, like it's something jack shouldn't be doing. he'd hoard all of oswald's secrets if he could!
he looks at the plush rabbit before holding out his arm obediently, to be dressed.]
no subject
[lethal because of the noctaere, but. technically speaking, that was a dream world, and nightmares could kill there. scary, scary, for those who worried too much.]
After being attacked while I dreamt [more than once at that], sleeping was difficult.
[there's actually more to it than that, but he's not sharing it with jack right now. he's keeping it very, very simple, shirking the specifics: what attacked and how frequently, what was going on at the time, the severity of the wounds caused, the state of the capital as a whole — nothing that he finds himself needing to elaborate.
though jack looking at the plush rabbit makes oswald glance at it and remember that that's why he got it: to wipe his nightmares, even if it only serves the purpose of silencing some of the screams. still he looks back in time to see jack hold out his arm; he reaches out with one hand then to slide his fingers over skin in something that's too close to a caress. i'm sorry and i should've noticed, careful not to edge his fingers too close to the stitches as he idly traces a circle around for no real reason.
he's quick to start dressing jack's wound though and gentle to start, fingers brushing over skin intentionally as he dives right into the wrapping, wrapping, wrapping. oswald communicates far better with touch and composition, he's found.]
no subject
[jack stares at oswald, the simple touch of skin against skin quieting him, and he wonders why, why do things happen to oswald when he's done nothing (but throw his sister into the abyss and turn into glen, oh, hush, hush, jack tells the monster in his head) to deserve it.
maybe if he....slipped sedatives into oswald's food he'd sleep dreamlessly. but then again, maybe sedatives don't work on baskervilles? he gives it a thought, staring at and staring through the other man.]
I hope you'll come to sleep better here. [and jack feels guilty for crawling into his bed, but so far he hasn't complained, so!]
no subject
yet.] There were other people with more trouble than I- especially those that couldn't heal like I could.
[aaagain with the slipping his pains to the side because they aren't as important as everyone else's! oswald doesn't really want to exist, so dying's not so scary. he's wrapping still when he continues and admits:] - it's easier to sleep when I share my bed with someone. [with jack there, he means.
or alice, warm and curled against his side, and oz stuck as a plush and settled on his chest covered by oswald's hand while alice takes a pawow, ow, ow, ow, not again- he has to pause to press the heel of his palm to his temple for a second, eyes closing. enough, a voice filters through and he agrees. enough.he's almost finished with jack's arm, at least, and he returns to his task when the ache dies down.]
1/3
someone else who wasn't jack.
someone else who needed to die tyvm brb burning their germs gleefully
there is nobody else allowed because oswald is his, psychotic voices in his head be damned (do you hear that levi you asshat--!!)]
no subject
as soon as oswald's done jack gathers up the bandages and supplies and promptly dumps them on the floor on his side of the bed.]
done
[stop thinking you don't matter, oswald, jack wants to shake him by the shoulders and yell at him but that is for another time. right now he's too busy yawning and squinting at oswald's bandages, they need to stay put even if jack accidentally uhhh clings to oswald while they're asleep.
he moves to get off the bed again.]
Go to sleep. I need to comb out my hair.
[1/2] laughs myself into space wow
hey, no, leave the psychotic voices in his head out of this. oswald likes them on most days that end with 'y' and they were here first so this is their territory, not yours, jack vessalius—
although wow he does notice that bedsheets gripping and wonders if he said something wrong...?? it's not enough to spook him, but it's definitely enough to wonder what the hell happened because wow yeah he hit something there.
maybe he shouldn't tell jack things anymore?]
[2/2]
[every life is somewhat important to oswald though as long as it's not his life oops. -comb out his hair? oswald's reminded of lacie and master glen and doing their hair in the morning - master glen because that's what he does and lacie when she doesn't feel like doing it herself - and finds that he's missed that a bit.
so he gets up to follow!]
...I'll help. [firm, because even though he aches hair is important!! he can sleep after. maybe. possibly.]
EXCUSE YOU OMG you don't understand
jack sighs, why is life like this. he gives oswald an arched brow before he searches in the dresser drawers for a wide-toothed comb.]
Don't you ever run out of energy? [he asks, not expecting an answer. or rather, you are hurt and tired and exhausted and all other possible synonyms, why are you still bothering to help me?]
of course i understand..... that's why i'm laughing
just... looking at jack. of course he runs out of energy; sometimes that's why he's napping. (rarely. he's tired for other reasons that don't have to do with stamina.)]
Of course I do. [said like, duh!!] I can still comb through your hair with what I have left. [it's not an arduous quest!! or maybe it is and oswald's overestimating himself. it doesn't really matter to him.]
you're a bad person :((((
[but jack is secretly happy over this, because oh gosh he doesn't remember oswald ever doing this for him before, and like a blushing schoolgirl he can barely contain himself.
why is there only one comb though. he hands it over to oswald (ow arm stop twinging) and sits down on a chair, draping wet hair all over the back of it. it's long enough that one can choke someone with it--]
Thanks. [just don't keel over or...something.]
oh no you haven't seen me bad yet kesesese
yes arm stop doing that and enough with the violence - he won't keel over and he makes that somewhat clear as he follows, standing behind the chair and wow that is a lot of hair, jackpunzel. well, he doesn't mind it so much and immediately sets out to work from bottom to top, all gentle precision and determined strokes.]
...mm. [a soft hum there even as he tries to wipe that smile off of his face, one fond while his eyes and hands are focused on jack. the pain'll.. fade... as long as he can fall asleep. he'd see.]
kicks out
he'd done this before, jack decides; he didn't even have to tell the other man where to start and how to untangle knots. it's a comforting thing, the constant tug tug tug on his hair, and when oswald's hands reach jack's head he almost purrs.
this is embarrassing. alas, jack is enjoying it too much to care, making those lazy, contented sounds again, not quite aware that he's doing it. for once, he's blessedly silent otherwise, exhaustion and the late hour catching up with him.
he tilts his head to the side a little bit, eyes closed, smiling sincere and happy, for once.]
leaves and cries self to sleep then rude :(
exhausted, hurt, what have you - he regrets finishing when he does because jack's making those noises again and cutting the silence in a way that oswald likes.
still, stepping close warrants wet hair against his front - he'll sneak a shirt before he returns to the bed - and he takes the hand that doesn't have the comb in it and runs it through jack's hair from top to bottom, bringing jack's hair up and back instead of moving himself down, just to make sure.
of what, knots or guilty pleasure, no one but him will ever know! done, done, done, even if he might not want to be.]
no come back omg :((( I'M SORRY
Er...
[jack stares at oswald, stares at him up and down, and he ducks his head and flushes and there's the bed!! let's get to it! he skitters over to the bed and sits on the edge, trying very hard not to seem like he has a fetish for head massages.
you know he'll just reach over and pat the plush rabbit on the head with a finger, yes. that rabbit had better not come between them :[]
oh :( well okay climbs back out of bed and returns
LOVE ME >:(
NO YOU LOVE ME >8(
omfg oswald stop judging :((((
make me :(( distract me with something else...!
X-( slides hand up thigh there!!!
sjdhdksh (blush) passes out--! also not sorry
this is unfair and you know it :((((
i... do i am sorry 8c
ooc
ooc sure got creepy in here
ooc you don't understand love
ooc love is constricting and terrifying
ooc oh gosh no let jack love u gently oswald san
ooc no love hurts.......