expiationlogs | All my reasons cut like knives (Open)

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All my reasons cut like knives (Open)

Who: Silco
Where: Multiple Locations around Aldrip
What: A nightmare-induced jaunt through the streets of Aldrip thanks to recent events from the Tower.
Warnings: PTSD, anxiety, mention of strangulation

i. On the run
It was the same reoccurring nightmare which stole any restfulness away from him. Even as he sat bolt upright, the images clouded his vision and his breath caught in this throat without anywhere to go but choke him. Suddenly, his silk tie was too tight, feeling like the slow pressure of fingers closing around his throat, and his fingers tore at the material in an uncharacteristic panic.

His vest felt too constricting, hugging his chest so that his ribs couldn’t expand. The illusion sensation of knees on his chest holding him down drew him from his seat and had him frantically removing the vest to fall on the floor next to white tie.

Logic had been overridden by a sense of internal alarm and panic, and Silco was opening a window to the office of the Last Drop. Within seconds of the cold night hair hitting him, he was out the window and scrambling down the two storeys to the ground; physicality was never his strong suit but he was a born and raised fissure folk and moving around – including up and down – was not actually difficult for him and the Lanes buildings were built with outcroppings.

He took off running the moment his socked feet touch the ground, sliding through the narrow alley and out on the streets. Chased by the nightmare, of the frantic old pain to just survive, he sprinted away with no mindful thoughts to combat the adrenaline as he tore through the streets and heading towards the edge of town.

He slipped across streets, jammed himself through almost impossibly narrow alleys and hopped fences. He was barefoot and disheveled within a few blocks, and his gaze was unfocused with a panicked need to flee as if he were being chased.

ii. Drop in the bucket
The salt in the air hung thick, and it was the only thing that stopped his careening mad panicked run but not until he felt the water roll over his bare cut up feet. He took a moment to draw a long shaky breath into his lungs, and almost mindlessly, Silco walked into the gently rolling waves while silhouetted by the moon hanging in the sky.

To his knees then his waist and out further until he was chest deep in the ocean, which took him quite far out given the gentle decline of the portion of beach he had ended up in. His fingers traced over the surface of the water as he bobbed before he simply sank under the surface and stayed there.

There was a comfort in the reminder of a place similar to this was where he had once let his weakness die, where he had stepped out from the shadow of someone he had once trusted. It was time to do that again, just basking in the embrace of the water even as his lungs began to burn from being submerged for minutes.

Have you had enough?

iii. Beach contemplations
He found himself sitting on the beach staring out at the waves gently lapping at the shore. Even with his legs drawn up towards his chest, the water still rolled over his feet. His forearms rested on his raised knees, fingers entwined together to keep them from potentially falling into motion. His soaked clothing clung to his frame, though it was starting to dry stiff from the salt of the water.

The moon hung low on the horizon, providing an indication of time having passed. It would be dawn within a few hours, and the reasonable part of his brain knew that he couldn’t be out here on the beach when the town began to come awake. This was not a scene he wanted to be caught staring at, not when there was the safety of any one of his businesses or the empty home waiting for him.

Slowly, he reached up and pushed drying stiff hair from falling his face then drew his fingers down over the yellowed bruises on his throat where he had been throttled. Like father, like daughter… it was a legacy he doubted Vander would want to be known for. The girl? He expected such a situation to go down as a point of pride; that was the differences of a generation.

And what would be his legacy? Zaun would survive, and that was enough. As for Aldrip? He was still building his legacy, but to what point and purpose? He knew why; his reasons had been lined up since he had arrived, and he knew they hadn’t changed. The question still lingered like a bitter pill to be swallowed.

He bowed his head towards his knees and sighed, lingering in the moment alone on the beach.

iv. Walk of shame
Well, now that that shameful incident was over, it was time to walk back home like some self-aware drunk knowing they had made a fool of themselves in public. As he had come with nothing more than his shirt and pants, Silco simply dusted off sand from his clothing and began to trek along the streets of Aldrip.

It was early enough in the morning that he knew few would be awake. So he took the most direct route towards his house. Within the first block, he began to leave faint bloodied footprints and his head was bowed down in an effort to ignore anyone who might actually be heading to their destination that may notice him in his current disheveled state.

"I’m not interested in escort."

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[ sleep doesn't come easy for jinx, not like it was a thing she's ever been attached to in the first place. often times, she considers one can get more work done during the nights than during the sunlight. the days are usually filled with wandering eyes, mouthy noise of people who she cared very little about, or just cluttered bodies on top of one another to the brink of feeling as if she's a sardine being squished into a tinned can.

in some circumstances, she flourishes being surrounded by a crowd of people. because sometimes, if it's congested enough, the monsters can't spot her among the locals and the chosen, and for that, she's secured and safe. but then there are moments where the sensation of isolation overtakes her, and the desire to work alone with nothing but silence becomes inviting.

and then there's that confusion yearn for both, wanting the daylight noise, but the stillness of nightfall. this is one of those strange aches; the quiet is becoming unbearable, and she seeks for a companion, but too much of the wrong company might result in her tearing her own hair out (and maybe theirs, too). for some strange reason, she is unable to communicate with her followers at the docks. whenever she tried, she loses her voice and/or they walk pass her unnoticed. jinx had theorized that this must be the work of the council and her still unfinished sentence. though, their task's importance is minuscule to her compared to everything else. ]

[ so here she is in the middle of the night, locking up her soon-to be bakery after a day of repainting the main lobby. and it's when she turns on her heel, she spots a figure racing off through the streets. her brows bunch together in disarray over the individual, and an unsettling tingle ripples up her spine and to the nape of her neck. her instincts beckon her to follow, and to be quick about it, too. she isn't sure why yet, jinx didn't get a good look at whoever it was, but there's something... worrying about what she saw, and to wave it off as nothing didn't sit well for her to do. not this time, anyway.

without shimmer flowing through her veins like usual, the hunt is slow and there's a gap of distance between her and the runner, but she's able to keep track of the person's path without any stumbles. and when she makes it to the beach, jinx hunches over with her hands on her knees to catch her winded breath.

but while doing so, she lifts her head and sees the man marching further and further into the waters. and after studying the man's movements, and his body figure, the realization crashes into her like a missile plowing through an airship. this man is not a stranger... it's silco. and his daughter knows exactly what he is doing by being out here, and what he is trying to accomplish. ]

[ cursing underneath her breath and now filled with pure adrenaline again, jinx rips off her boots and socks, then makes her way into the ocean. if her father wants to be "reborn" again, that's fine, but he needs someone to do it with or at least have someone supervise the ritual, so there won't be any mishaps. she killed him on accident the first time, she wasn't there to prevent the second, but jinx would rather burn in hell forever than to let a third happen under her watch. the teenager makes it halfway when silco disappears into the ocean, and her heart leaps up to her throat. the average healthy person can hold their breath between three and five minutes, but not knowing her father's health in the last few weeks, it might be less than that. ... if hypothetically, he's holding his breath.

with the water almost shoulder-length to her now, she halfway-swims to where she saw him last. and if it weren't for the moonlight glistening faintly over the waves, jinx might have lost sight of him in the black sea. swallowing a deep breath, jinx wastes no time to dive under, feeling around for his back/shoulders to hoist him to the surface. this would be a way simpler task if she was pumped with shimmer, but the serum in her flickers, and she battles between having strength and none at all. ]

Edited 2024-06-29 23:07 (UTC)

[There was peace in water in its many forms from wide expanses like the ocean or flowing of a river cutting through a city to the dribble of rain or the clammy gathering on one's skin when the humidity was particularly high. He preferred this water, especially right now. It hugged him, pulling him down further as he curled up to simply be present here. This was his moment of reflection, of asking the stray questions that often had no place in his work.

His hair fell forward with the current, brushing his forehead and ears. He closed his blue eye and only endured the sting of salt against his mutilated one, but his focused was more on the way his lungs held the air in them and the oxygen coursed through his blood until it began to deplete and the familiar burn nipped at his concentration. He could breathe in this water against all survival reflexed but wouldn't.

This was where the weakness had to be shed again. He had failed to protect himself just as he had on that day so many years ago. Death was a familiar friend, haunting his steps or doing his bidding for one reason or another. His strength had failed him in the Tower, and he had choked on this body failing yet again. It was not a sensation he had expected to feel so soon.

It was a reminder. Play the game wrong, and he would lose everything.

There was noise above him, muffled splashing that wasn't the current. He had sunk further down towards the sand, his knees resting there as he just let the blanket hug of the ocean embrace him. The urge to breathe was growing, the burn in his lungs nagging for more of his attention. Yet, he felt no urge to return to the surface.

He felt the ghost of contact on a shoulder, and he at first ignored it. Then it came back, finger tips catching his shirt before brushing the back of his neck. His eye snapped open, and half a breath exploded from him as he jerked away. No! Not again. His hand went for his knife, but his fingers groped at nothing but an empty belt; he'd left it in his office.

He had enough sense between the renewed panic of the nightmare to twist in the water and shove the hand away. He dug his heels into the sand to push himself away, and the moonlight illuminated the dark shadow of a body above him. Suddenly he was back in the Pilt, the burn of the toxic water against his wounded face and large hands reaching to finish the job...]

[ she predicated this sort of reaction from him, especially when he had no clue he was being followed and she didn't necessarily announce herself. she... probably should have, now thinking about it. but jinx always makes decisions without thinking fully through, so this is no exception.

when he shoves her with his hand, it gives her an opening to grab onto his wrist in an attempt to yank him (and herself) up for air. will this result to him kicking her by doing this or injuring her in some fashion? yes, and jinx is fully prepared of getting bruised up during this squabble. she will gladly take any kicks or punches from her father as long as it'll get him back up to fresh air. ]

[Silco tried to jerk his wrist free when delicate fingers closed around his wrist. Beneath the swelling panic, he recognized that the hand grasping his own couldn't possibly be Vander's based on the size and strength. The jerk forced him up towards the surface even as he tried to draw himself away.

If he hadn't been neglecting the basics beyond clean and tidy, he might have had it in him to fight back. However, both oxygen and adrenaline was leaving him quickly and the presence of mind to survive overrode the stubborn want to remain under the surface. He still shoved to put distance but he ended up breaching the surface with a gasp for air.

Hair in his face, mouth agape as the black edges to his vision began to dissipate, he stared at the stars hanging in the sky above. He sucked in air and spat out salt water as he rolled on the waves, giving himself a moment to experience the rising exhaustion.]

[ when she reaches the surface, she too, gasps drastically for air while coughing out any of the ocean that crept in her lungs. in the meanwhile, jinx ties her arms around the other in a gentle hold; doing her best to somehow maneuver herself underneath him. in this way, he can still float with the ocean, but have his head partially above the water.

and little by little, his daughter sidestrokes the two of them closer to shore — but not without pacing herself with breaks in between, and giving him his moments of silence and peace. she doesn't want to rush it or bring him out of his state too abruptly. let the man be one with the sea, just safely. that's the whole key here. and one might think this would be the perfect time to say something, or at least say who she is.

but for right now, jinx feels words will just get in the way and with her body this close to his, it might be enough for him to register who is with him. if not that, then maybe her bangs coming into his view periodically will do. jinx won't really know just how out of it the man is until they reach the shore. ]

Edited 2024-06-30 03:45 (UTC)

i & ii mixed.

cw: disassociation

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