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_logs2012-12-13 11:06 am
psychopath) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-12-13 11:06 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: jack (psychopath) and jill (iudex)
When: december 10th, afternoon
Where: baseball diamond and onwards
Summary: loss of tiny dignities, jack being shot because he's an ass, gross sobbing
Warnings: some blood
[oh, this is familiar. The ground and walls are familiar, earth and stone, and jack is no stranger to sitting down in hidden places, blending in with the crowd.
he'd been hurt worse, but this is compounded by the fact that it's the same shoulder that got hurt before, and jack curls up in his jacket miserably. It's cold, but he feels colder, because he'd lost vincent. hello, regret, my old friend, he thinks.
oswald will have to do some searching to find the alcove he's in. jack almost hopes he doesn't find him.]
psychopath) and jill (iudex)When: december 10th, afternoon
Where: baseball diamond and onwards
Summary: loss of tiny dignities, jack being shot because he's an ass, gross sobbing
Warnings: some blood
[oh, this is familiar. The ground and walls are familiar, earth and stone, and jack is no stranger to sitting down in hidden places, blending in with the crowd.
he'd been hurt worse, but this is compounded by the fact that it's the same shoulder that got hurt before, and jack curls up in his jacket miserably. It's cold, but he feels colder, because he'd lost vincent. hello, regret, my old friend, he thinks.
oswald will have to do some searching to find the alcove he's in. jack almost hopes he doesn't find him.]
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oh, how his chest hurts. he props himself up on his injured arm like it's penance, and his eyes sting hot with tears of pain. ow ow ow ow deal w/ it, it's nothing.]
Tell him to fix his aim.
[jack looks up at oswald, sniffling, and smiling like the hopeless man that he is.]
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there it is again, that anger from before. it only sparks once before he remembers - his servant. jack's betrayed a large family of twisted men, women, and children, and earned their ire. oswald and lacie were just two of many trusts. gilbert doesn't remember, didn't show much recognition -
vincent recognized him right away.
oswald stands, promptly in response to that injured propping (don't smile at me like that), and holds his hand out to jack. there's a flame alight inside of him.] --I fail to see what about his aim needs to be fixed [other than the obvious don't point that shit at jack], but I'll speak with him about it... among other things.
[because it's jack saying this and jack is more important than oswald's anger right now. breathe.]
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I was just standing there. He had a clear shot, why didn't he kill me then?
[oswald, i'm sorry, but did you have your dose of psychotic jack today? no? he whispers, hoarse, like he's sharing a childish little secret.]
I told him to kill me and he didn't, what a silly boy. It's not his fault.
[1/2] coo coo
oswald makes a mistake.
oswald thinks. yes, why didn't vincent kill him? (it begins, sharp and insidious and oswald's face doesn't change from its blank state—
s t a t i c—
l a u g h i ng
it doesn't stop for a while even if he finds himself wishing it would, but there's the rustle of fabric in the safety of his body, his mind, a woman with a strained smile and men with grim, grim looks flash behind his eyes.
glen baskerville stills and oswald - they, too, vengefully - wonders why jack thinks that his life is his own to give up as he pleases. his hand squeezes jack's.]
[2/2]
Maybe he was searching for something.
[he doesn't know. he hasn't tried to kill jack.]
...things are not always as they seem.
1/3
[2/3]
[it's only a matter of time before he'll ask oswald to kill him, he knows, a matter of time before he won't be able to take it anymore when the world hates him and the only single person who would not is dead.
ah...
it starts again.
vincent upsets him and his sanity, he likes to do that. jack tries to breathe, face contorting as the tears come, and he stares at oswald--]
done, i'm not sure who's crazier................
He wasn't supposed to find out! None of them were! It wasn't supposed to be like this, it wasn't, I just wanted to make her happy, I just—
[1/2] me either
he keeps watching, listening even after he's shoved. he agrees - it would've been better if no one had known, but jack has made his mistakes. it wasn't supposed to be like this, no, oswald's future stopping the fall wasn't supposed to happen, that wasn't in jack's plans.
(just one question was all it would've took if lacie had wanted it oswald would've let her and jack go)
and oswald—
what's wrong, big brother? let's get it over with once and for all.
—wants to stop existing.]
[2/2]
she'd never want it to be destroyed. jack just wanted to make her happy? what the hell was oswald doing for all twenty five years of lacie's life, then? (existing.) if he could've, he would've— if lacie hadn't said anything during the ceremony, he wouldn't've.
oswald reaches out and snatches jack's hands in his own to keep him from— tearing skin or something, oswald doesn't know.
you just want to die? —and he's so tired of boxing his anger up in a music box, he really is, but he forces it. makes it screech to a halt for the moment, at least a little bit.]
—she is the only one who can decide what makes her happy. [not jack, not levi, and not oswald. lacie. lacie decides what makes lacie happy.]
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jack's hands are bloody, streaks of bright red drying into maroon (like always), but oswald's calms him, steadies him, and bows, pressing his forehead into oswald's hands.]
I'm sorry. [he breathes, shoulders shaking.] I'm sorry, Oswald. I shouldn'tve asked him, my life isn't - mine to give any longer, isn't it?
[he uses oswald's hands to cover his eyes as he tries to calm down, trying to find comfort in the darkness.] It's yours. [oh gross oswald's hands are now wet with salt and tears, sorry, well, not sorry at all for that,] Sorry.
[it's his penance for living, for existing, for that one day when he'll destroy everything that his best friend stands for.]
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trying, trying, trying, it's all anyone can do these days. oswald's hands slide to the back of jack's head and he goes to pull him close despite the blood, the wound, and the tears (especially because of them all), arms winding and hiding this one away as he rests his cheek against the top of jack's head. he's really no good at comfort beyond the leveled up affection, but—]
—it's mine. [a beat and, unsure but true (to jack),] You're mine.
[it's fine you've realized you've done wrong even if that wrong is a little left of center. oswald'd rather jack never ask him to kill him (because he won't).]
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[his fingers clutch at oswald's coat, shoulders sagging, relaxing, and he feels like he's home.
here is someone who knows what he is and what he will do and he still holds him like this, holds him close, and while jack knows oswald holds little things secret, he doesn't think that oswald would allow him this closeness without some scrap of fondness between them.
oh...maybe it was time to actually trust that oswald loves him...]
....
[there's a long moment, being held, and then jack whines:]
...ow.
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he's warming, at least, and he hangs on for a while. a long while he thinks, and even they're quiet for the here and now. oswald does love him - he can't lie - and while there's a matter of other things—
jack whines and oswald's arms immediately leave him. oops.]
—we should go back to your home. [yours, not his.] Let me bandage this.
[and then you can stay or leave. he promises not to throw you in the bathtub again. (maybe.)]
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[Did he ask for more whining? Because there's more whining. Jack stares up at him and pouts magnificently. What!
but he does climb to his feet and hiss when he lifts a hand to poke at the wound the bullet left.]
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goodness...]
...I never said that I was leaving. [...hm.
he can wait a little bit longer, though, instead starting to slide his hand down and over the good arm to take his hand - come, come, time to hold hands - and start to lead jack back to the manor. maybe they should take jabberwock again... maybe.]
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[but jack is compliant, twining their fingers together like it's something new and precious, and walks close to briefly rest his forehead against Oswald's shoulder, affectionate.]
Am I being overbearing again....
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so,]
No. [simply staying,] I'd rather you say something - [and pry] - than bottle it all up.
[he'd just choose what to answer - oswald finds that he's becoming fond of the sound of jack's voice.]
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[walking is nice. People doing a double take at the state of his shoulder and them holding hands is kind of nice, too, because it means that this is actually happening, Oswald's hand in his.]
You said I creeped you out!
[well it's not like jack isn't an actual creeper, it's just oswald had the tact of a sledgehammer.]
[1/2]
right
at
jack.]
[2/2] sure you aren't
satisfied,] You still make my skin crawl.
[yup we're gonna keep walking now.]
fahsgdjdja no :<
Unless he meant it in a good way
BUT WITH OSWALD ONE CAN NEVER TELL...]
I hope you meant that in a good way. [he sniffs, haughtily, tossing his head and biting Oswald's sleeved shoulder sort of like the way a puppy first tries out its fangs.]. I'm perfect. [but he hides his face in the other man's shoulder anyway, mumbling and flushed.]
hehe i believe you
instead of quipping though, he glances behind him and blinks at the bite of his arrogant puppy prince. the differences and similarities between this man and the man he remembers are vast still. and then jack hides his face, and even though oswald's a practical man he still feels a warm rush of affection plunge into his unsuspecting gut and coil.
perfect isn't even close to what jack is, but oswald knows that just for him, a half to his whole, jack is 'perfect'.
there's silence for a moment before, quietly, gently, something like a whisper solely for jack, as if the words are still new to him:] ...I love you as you are.
[psychotic episodes and all, even if he's in a perpetual state of judging. he'll only say it every once in a while, but it's there as it is. he goes and brings jack's hand to his lips, blood a small matter no matter where it may be in this exact second, and kisses it. sweet possessive overbearing prince of his u_u]
oh my god what is that tag flies into the sun
tingles!! and butterflies in his stomach!! he thinks, for a moment, is this what alois feels whenever ciel actually acts like he has a heart is capable of being affectionate? why is he thinking of advice a seventeen-year-old has given him?
why....can he actually not form words at such a simple gesture? jack's mouth opens and closes and this is overwhelming, oswald has zero idea how much this means to him, little things. acceptance, affection without payment, and it's so out of character for oswald to say anything like that that it hits jack out of left field.
so he just leans up, up, up on his toes and tries to steal a chaste kiss because you are an unfair person, oswald. unfair.]
2corny2deal
oswald lets him steal his kiss, pliant and unaware of jack's case of the tingles and butterflies, brushing his lips down in way of kissing back. he's perfectly fine with this - will always be - but he's getting worried about that shoulder. thankfully his moral compass and brain aren't so torn that they'd mix his priorities up; he wants for a moment, but if he always got what he wanted he'd be a brat spoiled rotten.
fortunately, he's a mature what-the-hell-ever-year-old man.
it's why he eventually steps back again to start leading him back on track towards the manor he knows jack thinks of so fondly as 'home', hand-in-hand.]
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Did that cloak that I gave you fit properly?
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the cloak? —the one he's hung up for later use? his steps pause and he looks at jack, momentarily curious.]
...it did. [and then, sincere and fluidly warm:] Thank you, Jack.
[because it never struck him until now to say 'thank you' (because he wasn't sure and jack is flighty) seeing as he knows for sure. there could be no one else. he could tell him the red could be lighter - more wet blood than dry - but it suits him just fine and he doesn't actually mind.
oswald threw glen's cloak into the flames when he found he couldn't salvage it, after all.]