expiationlogs | Now I'm Trapped Within Your Walls

[Richard raises his brow curiously at that statement. So the man truly has no fear for his soul? He can't quite tell whether he finds that commendable or foolish. Richard himself knows that there is no chance for him to ever enter through the pearly gates into the paradise, but he still found his anxiety rising in the presence of the witch.

He says nothing to that comment, but there is a subtle warm feeling in his chest, raising up to his throat. It reminds him once again why he had decided to invade Silco's personal space just a few moments ago, seeking out for contact with someone whom he saw sharing the same darkness as he.

The laughter is not appreciated but he'll let that pass.] I suppose that is not unheard of among the common folk. [He says, drawing attention back to their status differences.] For those from high families such dealings aren't so simple. The person outside of the lineage has no right to any inheritance, and would always be only reminded of their status of someone less than others. There would be no possibilities for them to thrive in future. In the worst case scenario, the impurity of blood is nothing but a death sentence.

[The blood running in his veins was the only thing that Richard could be proud of. It worked to him as a lifeline and shield, protecting him from the certain death that would await him.

He looks down at the tumbler in his hands, finally deciding to raise it to his lips despite feeling dubious of the strange liquid. Which turns out to be warranted doubt. Because the instant the alcohol reaches his throat he feels the burn of alcohol, prickling against his larynx as it tries to go down. It punches out a brief, dry coughing out of him.

So yeah. Strong liquor really was not a thing in medieval times.]

Then--, [He says between the coughs, small color raising to his cheekbones] Then, you're saying that these ghosts are not.. real.

[There was a narrowing of his blue eye at being call common folk, lips thinning in displeasure. He had lived a lifetime of being 'lesser', and he did not enjoy the implication that his existence was somehow lesser than Richard or a member of the Piltover houses. He had to remind himself that slitting the man's throat for the insult would earn him no favours, and he almost felt pity for someone that relied so heavily on the importance of who one's parentage was.]

Well, when you are born into nothing, you have nothing to lose, do you? Myself and my daughter scraped a living out of the filth of our city by merit of our character and intelligence, not because we happened to be blessed to come from between the legs onto silk sheets. [His tone was bordering on dangerous, and it was truly the only warning that he was going to give when it came to underestimating him based on his muddied genetics.] My daughter is my family regardless of how she came to be in my care. She may not be related to me by blood, but I would bring this world down for her if it meant her happiness.

[His vehemence when it came to his family subsided once he found Richard coughing through a sip of whiskey. It wasn't the best quality, but it was good enough to put a good warmth in their bellies. He made a point to sip from his own tumbler without a similar reaction.]

To her, they are. I never see nor hear them, but that doesn't mean they don't shape her life. I assume the same is for you. I never saw nor heard your Joan, but does that make her any less part of your reality? [He shrugged his shoulders again. It didn't matter what he believed; it mattered what Richard did when it came to the witch.] Either way, I imagine she wants something of you.

[The shift in the tone is impossible to miss. Unlike the reason behind it, as Richard had only stated the obvious hadn't he? Still, there was something in the warning tone of the man that reminded him of his late brother. Edward had showcased similar anger at his own kingmaker when Warrick had questioned his decision to marry Elizabeth Woodville instead of the princess from France. Making a woman of lowborn a queen of all England. A queen that would seek out to destroy the entire Plantagenet-bloodline, and overthrow the York Kingdom.]

You did say something like that before, yes. [Silco had made it clear that he was not born from nobility, struggling from poverty to rise into power. To Richard it didn't matter. If anything it made the man only more interesting in his eyes.] Then for you and your daughter's health. May she cut down the thorns from her side as her father does.

[He raises the tumbler up in a small toast, taking another sip from the liquid. This time swallowing it with more ease and actually tasting some of the fine details of it as it went down. The drink settled in nicely, bringing warmth to his body faster than any wine had before.]

I once knew a man who's illness made him lose the track of time and place. During those spells he would not remember who he was nor be able to recognize his surroundings, only pray for God.

[It was wise that Richard took the obvious hint to not refer to his low birth as a means to use against him. He had fought his entire life against that fact which gave Piltover the assumption that abuse was warranted to keep the scum in their place. He suspected Richard was very, very naïve to the way life worked for those who were born into poverty regardless of the previous speech about fighting and dying in the trenches with one's subjects.

So, he let the matter drop for now. He did not need to have to hide a body and clean up blood in his office. It would reward him only with questions and likely another stint doing pathetic penance.

He lifted his tumbler to accept the toast to their health. He expected Richard had no idea that death wasn't permanent here. He would provide that eventually, if it wasn't given by someone else.] It's a work in progress, but it is worthwhile. She had much the offer this world, even if people might deny it. Best to do so while healthy and strong.

[He sipped the liquid, corner of his lip twitching when Richard managed to take some without being reduce to a coughing fit. He set his tumbler down on his desk, and now he had to be curious if he was about to get a king drunk?]

Had he taken a sufficiently hard hit to the head? [Though, now he had to wonder.] You talk about your God, but I can't say I'm aware of this one. Could you tell me about them?

[Well, Silco is on right track here. Richard might have more insight to the suffering of the people than his brothers' or those from nobility ever did. All due to the demons plaguing his mind and the secret he carries with him -- setting him ultimately apart from the rest. But there was still so many ways that he stayed ignorant to the dealings of the subjects of his kingdom. Which is, no doubt, going to be one factor complicating his attempts to adapt to this city.

But that is nor here or there.]

I am a father, too. So, I understand the importance of children and the wishes of a parent. [His son, Edward of Salisbury, did have an important role in his plans of capturing the crown. After all, what is a king without an heir?]

Nay. I was told that the condition was hereditary, but I would not know. [Henry had never displayed signs of his illness during their time together. At least not until the very end. Richard raises the tumbler back to his lips, taking another sip of the drink.]

There is only one God. [He says thoughtfully, casting his gaze down at his hands.] I am not the best person to talk religion with, as I have never quite been that devout. The matters of spirit were never my specialty. But they say that the God sees all and is everywhere at once. He has laid a great plan for all of us and it is our duty to follow the path He has laid in front of us, following his teachings to value the worth of our souls. We beg forgiveness for our sins and trespasses, hoping to gain a pass to his eternal paradise that waits for us in death.

[Silco raised his only remaining eyebrow when he was told that the man sitting nearby was also a father. He relaxed back into his seat as he considered that, how difficult it might be on a child to endure a parent who suffered as Jinx did. It would be... complicated but he didn't doubt the pair make it work.]

Are you? Is it a male or female child? [He'd heard in some nations that there was a certain importance put on gendered children. Piltover, Noxus and Zaun did not happen to care much for such things.] So your child will inherit your kingdom when you eventually die. So will mine.

[He knew of many conditions that made someone not be quite right. It was far more common in the Undercity thanks to the toxins in the air, the water and the food. Still, those that survived contributed similarly.] You were comrades with this person who lost track of themselves?

[Silco found the discussion of God to be interesting, especially when it came to feverent belief in one. When he was a boy, he had prayed to Janna who was protector of the people of Zaun, but as life had gone on, he saw little reason for faith in anyone other than himself.] What is your specialty, Richard? [That seemed the better question.] Oh well, there is no paradise for men like myself, so I don't waste time on such things. I'll be among the demons once this stint is over.

[The surprised look at the revelation of him being father is nothing new. Richard has dealt with similar queries from the people around him ever since the birth of his son. The rumors about the loveless union between his and wife were well-spread, and there were those who would question legitimacy of their child. But those rumors were nothing but thorns that he'd cut down. Or so he had intended to, once he had the crown.]

A boy. [He nods, chuckling softly at that declaration. Edward will not inherit anything. Richard has already been gone far too long and left his family unprotected. It is a small miracle if the boy is still alive. And his wife has probably already either been married off to someone else or locked away in a convent.]

He was a man whom I killed. [He says, staring at his own reflection in the brown liquid. That's right. Yet another man who he had sacrificed for the sake of crown, nothing more. He knows he had been the one to bring up Henry and his ailments but suddenly he found his tongue heavy and tied, not wanting to go into the subject any more.

Oh. Richard is not sure if it's the strange alcohol running in his veins or what, but a sudden, almost shy warmth raises to Richard's face. He looks up from his tumbler, looking right back into Silco's eyes with a slight confusion mixed with amazement shining from them. Maybe even a shade of hope? He had ever only one person to speak so proudly of his status as a demon among the men. It made his chest ache, almost enough to miss Silco's initial question.

The witch seems to have gone quiet again.]

..Deception.

[He nodded his head. It seemed they yet had more in common, and he was almost uncomfortable how quickly that list was growing.] What's your boy's name? [The chuckle indicated to him that Richard was at least somewhat fond of the boy.]

Personally or ordered? [Silco had to ask. There were plenty of people that he had sacrificed for ambition after all, but if it was done by their own hand, then he considered a personal killing.] Did he betray you, or was he a necessary sacrifice for a cause?

[He tilted his head at the look that Richard gave him, at first not understanding what his open declaration of being cursed to reside with demonic entities.] To what to I owe a look like that? [Curiosity nipped at him; what a strange man this was.

He lifted his tumbler to take another sip of his whiskey.]

Useful specialty. That will come in handy here.

Edward. [The discomfort is really growing in the room, but perhaps for different reasons for each. For time being Richard just finds it easier to answer these questions for time being, despite some of them irking the edge of his mind. Like picking on sore scab.]

He was the enemy to our kingdom and I needed to kill him to ensure my brother's claim on the throne. [What he does not mention the personal betrayal of the man. And how he had forever taken part of Richard into the grave with him, cloaking him further in the darkness. All because of his demon body.

And then there was Silco, proudly claiming to be comrades with such beings like himself. It's making him feel light in the head, as if he was again a young foolish boy desperate for crumbles of comfort.

"Looks like you've found your match, Richard! You thought deceive yet another soul but it seems like you are the one being seduced!" Joan cackles, the voice coming this time somewhere behind him. Well, at least it's enough to scare the man outside of his spell. With his expression hardening again Richard drinks the remaining whiskey from his tumbler, reaching to place it on the table between them.

He had seen the signs of the weakness in Silco before. He hadn't lost just yet.]

Why do you think I have a kingdom?

Edited 2024-05-21 14:04 (UTC)

[He nodded his head, not commenting on the name. It seemed perfectly acceptable after all, and it was perhaps a bit more than expected. He had wondered if Richard was overly protective of the boy, and a name was a good indicator of that.] My daughter is Jinx. You'll have the benefit of meeting her someday as she is in Aldrip with me here.

[Most people, especially after meeting her, wouldn't mess with Jinx much. Even if they tried, she had cultivated protection that he felt confident that she would be fine even mouthing off at the usual random strangers. It was still the Council that he was worried about, but he was still deducing how to upend them.]

Sacrifices in the name of stability and power. That's a violence as old as humanity itself. I will assume you enacted such an act with impunity. [Richard did seem the decisive type, and he could respect that. Enemies of safety were better silenced than allowed to fester.

He noted the change in demeanor, and that was just as fascinating as the previous reaction. Avoiding attachment or embarrassed by his inquiry? He suspected there was something lurking beneath the surface, and he was used to hot-cold behaviour. He did have a daughter after all.]

Why wouldn't I think you have a kingdom? Maybe it's not a whole city or county or country, but you have something that you rule over. [He picked up his tumbler and finished off the whiskey, wiping his lips with the pad of his thumb.] Besides, what brother sits in the shadows of their elder one without wanting time in the sun?

I'm not certain whether I'd call that bad luck or not to have her here with you. No parent would want to see their child enslaved under the rules of a strange city and faceless council.

[Although, from Silco's description alone it does sound like this girl might have it what it takes to continue surviving. Jinx, a baffling name but he supposes that is just yet another proof of their different social statutes. Edward is the name of the King, while Jinx sounding more like taunt for a small child.

Richard leans back on his chair and crosses a leg over another. He's half- expecting Silco to fill up their glasses again like a proper host would, but decides not to comment on it. It seems like he's broken enough customs and social rules for one day.]

A loyal and doting younger brother that will sacrifice any enemy for the stability of his house. [He says, grinning lightly at the comment. That was the lie that he had sold to the realm, deceived the people and lords so that they'd turn their backs on the two young heirs left behind by his brother. But he did not intent to reveal all his cards just yet, it worked for him to keep the true darkness hidden for now.] But you're right. I am the Duke of Gloucester. I rule over large part of the northern lands of our country and enjoy the trust of his highness.

But I am more interested in hearing of this kingdom of yours that you intent to leave behind for your daughter.

I consider it a blessing for me. She is my greatest ally, and I trust her to find her way wherever she is. I'll build her an empire here.

[He could build it for himself, but to what point and purpose? He had always strove to bring others up with him whether they wanted to or not. They simply had to have the strength to follow, and unfortunately, those not strong enough to keep up would have to be left behind. People died; that was a reality and a daily hazard when it came to the Undercity. Death not being permanent here made an interesting change to the status quo.

He watched Richard, waiting for a tell on what the younger man was thinking about his statements. He expected there was far more lurking beneath the surface; that was far too polite of an answer and he didn't believe it for a second. His smile was razor thin as he made a noise of consideration.] Your brother is fortunate to have such loyalty and dedication from his kin. I hope you recognizes your contributions.

[He unstoppered the bottle and poured them both a finger of whiskey, setting it back down a moment later. He picked up his tumbler, raising it up like a toast.] To loyalty. Maybe the health of your brother until you make your move. [In his world, everyone had a move to make.]

This place is whatever we make of it. I am a businessman, so I will do business here. I own five so far. [Implying he intended many more.]

Like any admirable father should. [Richard could understand this. Their presence in this physical realm was only a brief one, barely a heartbeat in the eyes of time. What mattered was the legacy they would leave behind and how would their stories to be passed. That was, after all, one way to enter to eternity.

He smiles politely and moves to grab the glass, holding it up in another raising it in a toast.]

To loyalty. Although for my brother that is too late. A mysterious illness took him grave far too early. Now my services lie with his young sons. [Then he brings the glass back to his lips, sipping the warm liquid now with more ease. It's strange. He could feel the effects of it in his body, flushing his cheeks and making his arms feel heavy, but at the same time the bitter kick of the alcohol helped him to keep him awake and mind focused on the topic at the hand, dullying the calls of the forest for now.

The mention of him making a move earns a light chuckle from him.] You have already seen the resolve of my soul marked on my flesh. [The burnt tissue on his left arm. Yet another trick he had used to deceive the eyes of the God.]

With the absence of power structure that would appear the way to start. Aside from the council your biggest opponent lies in the mind of the people. Once you have their support the power will come to you.

In that, we are in agreement. Our children are our future after all, our legacy. [He had new lease on that perspective having died at the hand of his daughter. He wondered if he would be immortalized by another voice she listened to, or if he would simply fade away to stories told of how the Undercity nearly broke free.

He tipped his head to the side as he reached forward to lightly clink their glasses together to complete the toast. With the special skill of 'deception', Silco was already getting a sense that Richard was by far one of the most interesting people he had met.] Such a shame that medicine couldn't save him. At least his children will have a guiding hand such as yourself to see them to their rightful place.

[He had been drinking for many years so the effect was all warmth for the time being as he grown used to it. Richard was definitely going to be drunk, and he wondered what sort of secrets would emerge that he could potentially use in the future should that occur. If he played his cards right, he had no doubt there were more than a few skeletons in that closet.]

I hope you let the scarring be seen by all someday. Your personal story marked on your flesh; there is no shame in it. [He stroked his fingers down his own scarring.] Lessons of life and the strength to endure and be what they fear. Let the monster be seen by all, Richard.

[He nodded his head. Not everyone would like him or care about his dealings, and if he kept it smart enough, he wouldn't have to deal with many of his opponents' mewling if everything appeared above board, as it were. He'd been doing that for years; this was an old game with new players.] The support of the majority is good enough for me; it's good to have critics so you can silence them.

[Oh.

There he goes again. Speaking his words with a different voice. Richard feels the small tug of fear and pain in his chest, as his soul once again wails and cries out in the absence of the warmth. "Imagine the moment, Richard. The moment when you bring this body in the light, no longer hiding your desires in the shame." He could hear the words of his Kingmaker in his mind. It was only after that when Richard had decided to stop hiding his face from the rest of world.

His grip on the tumbler tightens and he casts his gaze back down on his lap to hide the conflicting emotions from showing on his face. The mentions of bloodlines, young princes and loyalty and whatnot pales down in his mind, overshadowed by the brewing storm.]

Then.. What about you, Silco? [He say after a brief pause. Words laid in between them carefully.] Would you like to see the full extent of them?

[Seduction had never been his strong suit, and he had never even tried to improve that skill despite the Undercity providing all manner of opportunities. He was used to utilizing words to draw people through motivation to align with his goals and vision; he used fear to keep people loyal.

Seduction? People were taken with his power and promises. People envied, hated and respected him. Loved him? Only Jinx for the last decade. Respect and loyalty had been enough for him.

He thought he was luring Richard in with a different perspective when it came to scars, to being the monster everyone thought them to be. He was used to that tactic, and it worked well. He wasn't going to assume the rosy cheeks were anything more than the affect of the whiskey they were sharing.]

If you're offering, I never deny comparing life lessons. After all, I have no issue letting the monster that I am out.

[Time and place. This wasn't the Undercity. He couldn't just order those he didn't like murdered. He had to subtle, careful, but that didn't change who and what he was. Was Richard a kindred spirit?]

[As much as Richard tries to fight against it, he can't help but feel his heart clenching in his chest as his blood freezes still, stomach dropping upon hearing those words. He's certain that Silco has no idea what it means to someone like Richard, who's spent a lifetime hiding and clinging on the darkness, hoping that it would hide away the sin carved on his body.

The room disappears from his view again, covered in the dark depths of the woods. There's a chorus of voices, hissing and whispering to his name and the curses. "To wit, an undigested and deformed lump!", "A demon!". The usual mantra from his nightmare. Who knows, maybe he should show Silco what a true monster looked like? Maybe that would finally break the man's calm and run off in fear.]

Hehe. [Richard laughs, raising his gaze up to meet Silco with an ironic smile on his face as he deflects the panic from his features.] I only jest. There are some monsters that ought to stay hidden away from the eyes, even as sharp as yours.

[Then he focuses back on his tumbler, swirling the liquid in it before taking another sip.] I believe your ale might be a tad bit too strong for my spirit.

[Unperturbed by the laughter, Silco sipped at his whiskey. There was a story to that laugh, and he expected that Richard would actually feel quite welcome in the Undercity where scars, body modifications, and dubious science was around every corner. They were all very open-minded on such things, but he understood not everywhere had such broad perspectives.]

I disagree. [He purred that, pushing himself to lean forward into his chair. He rested elbows rather casually on his knees, lacing his own fingers together as he gazed steadily at Richard.] We're all monsters, but some are shamed into hiding it. Cautious yes, careful certainly, but there is a time and a place for monsters to reign. I've seen real monsters, I assure you. I'm not afraid of you.

[Then he slowly eased to sit back again, reaching for his tumbler.] So it would seem. You're welcome to gain strength with repeated careful exposures if you like. Or there are plenty of other beverages to partake as well. Whiskey isn't everyone's choice.

['Or so you say,' Richard thinks to himself, silently nursing the drink in his hands. There are many kind of monsters in the world, that is true. Richard himself has encountered some of them -- mostly in form of soldiers deranged from the war. Men who'd look at the other men and women as nothing but as flesh, something for them to devour and destroy.

But then there was monsters like him. And Silco, he now assumes.]

I have never heard of such drink. However, my lack of strength aside, I do find the taste agreeable. [The closest thing that Richard could recall drinking was the drugged wine at his brother's lust-filled banquet. As both drinks did rise rather quickly to one's head.] But yes, I might accept your offer. I do feel like there is still plenty for me to learn about this world and it's political view. More than anything, I'd like to hear of your enemies.

[Silco liked to think he had seen, read or at least educated himself on the worst the world had to offer. He had even contributed to it when it came to Shimmer, but the ends justified the means for him. Sacrifices had to be made, and Zaun was more important than any one person, even himself. To drag the Undercity out from under Piltover, he had to hurt them both and he would be whatever monster was necessary.

Besides, war was coming. People forgot that beyond their borders lay many enemies. More of the worst the world had to offer. For now though, he kept his thoughts to himself.]

There are many distilled alcohols with a strong taste like that. You can try however many you like over the next few days and decide what you enjoy most. [There was wine too, of course, but he didn't have a taste for that.] I don't have many enemies here at the moment, but the biggest thorn to my side you will no doubt meet. She's loud and leads with her fists.

[Richard laughs airily, brow curling up in amusement.]

Truly? There are no others desiring to step forward and grab the power for themselves? That is surprising. [After all, people's hearts sought desperately after that light -- any step that would bring them closer towards the power that could fulfill their dreams.] How can one brawny and unruly girl be in your way?

Not particularly. The Chosen appear to generally be a 'stop others from taking power' than wanting it for themselves. I'm certain some have aspirations, but so far have not acted on them.

[He shrugged his shoulders, uncaring. No one was standing in his way per say, but he knew there were those uncomfortable with him cultivating wealth. If only they knew the extent that he could be far worse...]

My usual methods of dealing with such individuals is woefully inadequate here. [He said that breezily, waving a dismissive hand in the air. Then he looked at Richard with an almost coy smile.] Death is not a guarantee here. Some die and come back, others seemed fine one moment and disappear the next. Who knows whom has the luck of the draw at any given time.

Tch. [Richard scoffs at that, feeling almost uncharacteristic easiness to display his frustration and discontent with that. Because really, both of them have already bared some of their fangs and claws as pair of monsters sharing the room. Maybe it's that shared connection that helps his own ambitions peek behind the curtain, just a little.] So, they are too cowardly to make the grab for the power for themselves and would hate for someone else to live up to their potential? The spiritless bitterness weakens and cheapens the value of one's soul. I would not pay heed to them.

[It tasted sour in his mouth. Again, he is reminded the weak minded king who spoke proudly of shepherds dream, finding joy and bliss from the simple pleasures of slow life rather than from the golden circle of crown. It was that weakness that cost him the throne -- and his life.]

So we are not permitted to leave until we finish our atonement for our sins. [He doesn't like that one bit. But even if death was taken out of the equation it didn't mean that one would be powerless against enemies. There were punishments far worse than death.] Back in my world, we faced many opponents and enemies that we needed to deal with but could not spill the blood, not unless we wished to risk restlessness within the people. If this girl truly proves out to be a problem, you have have more than enough weapons to take her out of the picture.

[He lifted his tumbler to his lips and sipped the amber liquid, watching Richard over the rim of the glass. So, he had competition sitting right across from him. It was good to finally meet someone with actual ambition, especially one he expected had already developed skills for such endeavors. Dangerous but he'd reassess the longer Richard was here. Perhaps they could use one another ambitions.] Don't be concerned. I pay them very little heed and do as I please with the resources that I have.

[He set the tumbler back down a moment later.] There is plenty of room for healthy competition in both Aldrip and Rumpitur that I've seen. A quiet life is for those waiting to die.

[Be still his cold beating heart to hear such words from Richard. Few were quite so eloquent about it, least of all the Chem-Barons that he endured.] Indeed, there is more than one way to put down opposition. Thankfully, she does well for herself making her mewling pointless. I would welcome suggestions on how you have silenced your critics.

[Richard enjoys the playing the game, it's true. Just like a beast that's been shackled down for too long earns for the freedom after getting sniff of the fresh air for the first time. Both his mind and body keeps longing for the battlefield, even if instead of bloodied war zone it is the grand halls of the castle.

But perhaps for everyone's sake, he has not yet decided whether this world, city of Aldrip with its curiosities, is something he deems worthy of fighting for.]

I couldn't have said it better myself. [Richard, in return, raises his glass in a quiet toast before taking his final sip, emptying the tumbler once again.

There's a quiet chuckle from him, no doubt brought to surface by the dawning intoxication he was experiencing. Oh boy, does Richard have stories to tell? Granted, most of his recent atrocities were done by using a middleman. James Tyrrell, the assassin that Buckingham hired for him. But luckily, he's not drunk enough yet to let his lips go loose on the subject. They had established that they both were beast rather than men, but he'd still keep some of his fangs hidden if possible]

Imprisonment. But that is dull and obvious answer, as you know. However, it all boils down to a tale you can tell, the art of deception. One needs to spin such ploy that it will fool the eyes of each good soul. That way you can cage even the God himself and no one will bat their eyes at the devil horns you are wearing.

Now I'm Trapped Within Your Walls

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