expiationlogs | All my reasons cut like knives (Open)

Entry tags:

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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[Why was he there indeed? That's the question on both of their minds. All of their previous encounters had been unique, in a way, but there had been a clear pattern to all of them before. Two monsters, sizing each other up and finding sympathy and understanding from one another, while also testing to the waters to see just how far the other would be willing to go. But Silco arriving to his doorstep, disheveled and in distress, didn't fit their previous rhythm, leaving both men out of sorts so to speak.]

Come in. [Richard says and steps back inside, leaving the door open for Silco to enter in his own pace. Whitey, the true mastermind behind this situation, has disappeared into the night to conduct his own adventures, it seems.

The interior design of the house is also just as modest and bland as it looks from the outside. Richard hasn't really had much time or interest to gather any personal belongings other than those that he deems to be useful. He was never materialistic the same way as his brother had been. So, there can be mostly found weaponry used for hunting such as spears, daggers and bow placed neatly against the wall, and his sword lies on top of the kitchen table next to a piece of cloth. It seems like Richard had been in middle of cleaning his weapons before Silco had arrived. Other than that there are pelts placed around the space, there's one against the wall, one on the floor in front of the bedroom door and one placed close to the fireplace where the embers are still softly sparkling, creating both light and warmth inside.

Richard really needs to learn how to start using electricity more...]

Take off your clothes. I shall fetch you a blanket and more wood for the fireplace so you can warm yourself. [He commands and quickly points at the spot before the fire, telling him to sit down. Honestly, the situation was so baffling that springing to the action seemed most logical thing to do. First they needed to get Silco back to his clear mind of state. Any questions Richard might have can come after that.

With clear line of action in his mind, Richard quickly walks to the bedroom area, grabs a cover off the bed. Normally, he'd offer the man spare clothes to wear but as it was he didn't have anything else but his own. And despite Silco not exactly being one of big built he still was considerably taller than Richard himself. But he's certain that the man could tolerate a little humiliation and being in compromised state until he gained his strength back. ]

[He limped his way into the house after Richard had left the door open, pausing to watch the pig head off before he shut the door behind him. He took the moment to look around the space, aware he was invading but too tired to regret dropping in like this. It seemed to him that this was a contrived meeting based on the pig's preference.

It was... homely in here and without anything over the top. He preferred the simplicity, even as he limped his way over to the pelt in front of the fire. Despite his usual position giving the orders, he was exhausted and mentally spent enough that his fingers moved to work through the buttons of his shirt. He fumbled with the cuff buttons before he simply had to shrug his shirt off and worked it over his hands.

His chest and arms bore old scars, but the newest were two bullet holes, one to the middle of his chest and the other closer to his throat. He didn't presently care as his attention was working open his trousers and dropping them and his underwear to the floor before he half collapsed unceremoniously onto the pelt so he could work the material off with a wince from pulling it over his damaged feet.

He folded the clothes into a neat pile and set them aside and sat staring at the embers, not at all embarrassed to be naked compared rumpled clothing appearance.]

I don't mean to inconvenience you. I will stay a few hours until sunrise.

[When Richard returns back to the living room he takes one good and long look at the old injuries left on Silco's body. It does not shock him, after all he had seen men in much worse condition during the years of war and battle. Men covered in bloodied bandages, only barely hiding away maggot festering wounds. Soldiers missing limbs, crying in agony on the abandoned battlefield as birds pecked on the remnants of their fallen comrades. Such sighs were nothing but common in his childhood. But still, he found himself to be rather transfixed by the marks on Silco's skin. They did not appear to be like what he had seen before, the shape of them was to fine to be from arrow head or from steel of blade.

He does not answer Silco and just drops the blanket over his shivering frame, continuing to go fetch the other things. After a minute or two he returns with two logs for the fireplace and a cup of wine, which he pushes to Silco's hands.]

Here, drink this. It will restore your spirits. [He says, not really giving the man an opportunity to say no as he begins to tend on the fire. Once he gets the flames back up, filling the small apartment with a new warmth. Only once he's done with all that, he sits back on the pelt next to Silco, observing the man's condition again.]

Are you hurt?

[He was faintly aware of Richard moving around the place, but it wasn't until a blanket dropped over his shoulders that he turned his head to regard the other. He pulled the material around himself as he shivered from cold and followed the younger man's movement to rekindle the fire again. Why not simply use heat or... well, chem-tech didn't exist here, so electric heat seemed to be the way of this place.

He took the wine cup and sniffed the contents. Wine had never been his drink of choice, but he also wasn't going to spit in the face of his host either. He sipped from the cup as he examined the bottom of one foot. It was filthy and bloody, and he knew he would have to deal with them. He'd soak them once he was home.

He stared into the crackling flames as they built on themselves on the wood. Open hearths were not a staple of his city due to a lack of access to trees. He pulled the blanket a little tighter with one hand as Richard settled next to him.]

Pride and feet perhaps, but both shall survive to see another day. [He side-eyed the younger man, taking another sip of wine.] I will consider our previous debts paid with this.

I can draw you hot water. [Richard is not a doctor and his understanding of medicine is greatly outdated but even he knows the dangers of dirty open wounds and infections. It would make his current hospitality pointless if Silco were to lose a limp or drop dead after leaving his care.

Though what he says next does make his lips tug into a small smile.]

What debt? [Of course he knows that Silco is referring to their previous encounters where the man had provided Richard with guidance on how to navigate around this new, strange world. But to refer to that in a situation like this with such manner seems stubborn and almost petulant.]

We do not think ill of each other, do we? I have no reason to turn you away from my doorstep.

That won't be necessary at this time. [Of course, the wording caught Silco a little, reminding him of the slums deep in the levels. Either way, he was self sufficient with his own wounds once he wasn't on the verge of mental and physical exhaustion.] You are using the plumbing this place provides, yes?

[He might lack all of his awareness, but he had noticed the lack of electricity. That was something they were going to correct when he could think about more than the fact that Richard was here and offering him hospitality.]

What...? Oh. Yes, your assistance has matched with mine in previous conversations. [He was so used to relationships being transactional that it was instinctual to call everything between people debts or unbalanced scales.

He was quiet for a time at the question, as if it was far more invasive and difficult to answer than it actually show be. Yet, it was the question that dawned on him that he didn't dislike Richard; his curiosity and their similarities made the younger man welcomed company. That was... uncomfortable to admit to himself, let alone to the room.] This hospitality is not something offered to me back home often... not without a heavy price unless it was... [He trailed off. Jinx]

Plumbing... [He repeats, knitting his brows together a bit as he thinks back. Ah, yes. The innkeepers had explained the basics of the mechanism to him when he had first arrived.] Yes, I believe so. [But he still vastly preferred to draw water from the well.

And well, Silco isn't far from thinking that there was a transaction of sorts happening between them, but it was hardly something Richard would call owning a debt. You do a good thing for someone and they do one for you, simple human behavior as that. Though that might as well be one of the jarring, alien factors between them. They were not like most men, every interaction counted as a game of sorts. Each interaction held their own value in larger scale. So, normal human interaction and decency wasn't for them.

Richard takes note of the silent uncomfort that his choice of words have stirred in the man. He, too, sits in silence, eyes focus on the cracking wood in the fire.]

I benefit more of you alive. I believe you feel similarly. [Why else would have Silco sought refuge from his adobe?]

Hot water for bathing has its benefits. [It saved time, effort and was something he was hard pressed to give up these days. Maybe he was spoilt, but he liked to think he had earned that after the hardships of his early life. Now, he had a complicated relationship with water as tonight had likely proved to him when he could think of it.] I see electric lights are not yet your favourite.

[It was conversational on purpose; if he built an illusion of business around their interaction, he could believe there was no other ulterior motive to his being here. People like he and Richard had agendas, and it seemed fitting to play into that notion even here when he wasn't at his best. Yet, he couldn't ignore the deep boned tiredness that was beyond physical.]

So it would seem, yes. You are... a curiosity too. There aren't many like you in this place. [Like discovered like, it would seem.

He turned his head from the flames to regard Richard next to him, pulling the blanket tighter as his shivering increased as his body began the process of trying to warm itself now that there was opportunity to so. He noted the hair moved to the side and his eyes dropped remind himself if that scarred hand was exposed as well. Uncharacteristically impulsive, he reached out to run two fingers over the back of Richard's damaged hand whether exposed or covered.]

[The shower had started to gain favor in Richard's mind for sure, unlike the mentioned electric light.]

I dislike the false light. [Richard admits, knowing very well how ridiculous his reservations must seem like. But to him the electricity was just that: false. A cheap imitation of true light. Basking in it unnecessary felt like an added insult to old injury of being neglected that light. In the end, the aversion of it all is in his head and Richard does realize it to some extend.

It's his turn to settle in heavy silence. The word "curiosity" stinging tad bit too hard. It's not first time that he had been referred as such, his difference to others being highlighted and put on display. But he has already learned that it was because of that difference he carried within him that made him strong and capable of everything. Buckingham had showed him that.

His thoughts are interrupted by a brush of fingers against his burnt hand. The damaged skin was much thicker with scar tissue, making it more dumb to a degree. But there still were few red spots among the ash-colored burns, where the nerve endings seemed to be more sensitive. Overall, it was an ugly sight and so far there had been only one person aside from Silco who had not felt disgust upon laying his eyes on it. The same man who had the nerve to bed a demon and become his other half..]

You are right. There is no one else like me. [And with that Richard raises his hand, extending towards Silco.]

I understand. It takes getting used to.

[There was some electricity in his city, but it was by and large chem-tech in the deeper layers. Chem-tech ruled much of the innovation in Zaun, and it would continue to do so. It was a different kind of light on the spectrum he assumed, and it had taken him time to adjust to long term daily exposure to it. It was a matter of necessity.]

It is their primary source of energy aside from fire, I suppose. It has its uses and can be just as deadly as any other energy.

[He had seen the hand before and knew it came with a cost. He expected that, like his facial scarring, the nerves were dysfunctional in many parts of skin due to the scarring. It was clear that Richard could feel some with it, and it didn't hamper the younger man's mobility much. They made do with what they had, it seemed.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the movement due to exhaustion, too focused on the words instead. How many times had he extended his hand like this to others? A promise, an offering, a temptation. Rare was it to be offered in his direction and he actually consider it.]

Good. This is the way that it is meant to be. Never apologize for who you are. [He leaned forward until his scarred cheek pressed lightly against that extended hand, a show of their similarities. Revulsion from many, never from him.]

[The bright, unnatural light emitting from the small orbs on the ceiling, a cheap imitation of the sun, had been one of the first and hardest things for Richard to grow accustomed to. It quickly had dawned upon him, that these people would take such things for granted. Creating a great distance between him and the rest of the Chosen, making him truly to be an outsider among them. Or at least to all but to Silco it seems.

The rough, battered and torn fingers brush along the equally damaged skin. The texture feels odd yet familiar at the same time against his fingertips, rough but also soft at times. The touch was soft but also meticulous, as the scar kept gracing over another layer of scar. A mark that would always linger, no matter how much time passed, reminding them just what all they had lost and what was still yet to be gained. Something that would always be there to set them apart from others. Richard tried to conceal it, of course, like with everything else in his body. Hiding any imperfection away that he could, while also hoping that no one would smell the stench of darkness in his soul.]

And what about you? Are you finally showing all that you are?

[Perhaps it was one of the reasons he found comfort in the dark oppressiveness of the caves, navigating in complete black by touch, sound and with his mutilated eye. Unlike his daughter, he had not adapted as well to the technology of other places, but he made damn certain he understood how it worked and why on some level. He'd endured Hextech; he wasn't going to let them fall behind again.

There was such a dichotomy of the contact which he expected they experienced similarly. There were patches of skin that experienced touch normally or were hypersensitive but other larger swaths that experienced pressure and a change in temperature but not the softness of touch. He lingered there with a common theme, as they seemed to find more than they should.]

No. Hiding who I am is for survival's sake, and there is only one who knows who I am. [He tipped his face and opened his eyelid to peer at Richard with his blue one.] Are you?

Your daughter. [Richard says, voicing out the obvious elephant in the room. The pair did seem close, more than what one would expect he supposes. But there had also been unbreakable connection between Richard and his own father, tying their fates ultimately together. There had been no pain and despair equal to what he had felt on the day he had lost that beautiful, blessed man -- so he could image what Silco was going through if his daughter truly was shunning him away. No doubt it was one the reasons that played a part leading the man to his doorstep.

His thumb slides under the darkened eye, stopping at the cheekbone to cradle Silco's cheek for a moment. While he believes that the man not to lie to him, Richard can't help but believe that it isn't fully truthful claim either. He might not be showing the darkest parts of his soul, true, keeping the horrors still at the bay. But that doesn't mean something else is being revealed. The man behind the monster.]

Nay. We all have our own secrets that we do not wish to shine light upon. [And oh dear. Did Richard have lot of them. He had built his own claim for the kingdom upon series of lies and deception. Constantly, without a break, lying to those around him that he is something he is not.

Richard's eyes focus back on his hand and the small connection between them, finding himself once again wondering what if? Maybe Silco would truly be a man of his words and follow through his previous claims of not seeking for salvation, but rather seek to dine with the demons.]

There are much more frightening creatures in the dark than just monsters.

[He stilled for a treacherous moment at the accurate mention of Jinx. That he expected would be a dead give-away to Richard. He was too numb to care about that either; he had been rather honest when it came to Jinx and saw no reason to stop now even if she might continue to shun him.] She is perfect, and she knows much of me that others cannot.

[Silco should sit up; a small voice urged him to remove his face from that scarred hand. Richard's thumb was close to his mutilated eye, could strike and blind him the rest of the way without much effort. Yet, he remained for the moment soaking up the attention, hating how he had come to rely on Jinx's usual bombardment of affection on him to sustain that usually muted need.]

There's a monster inside all of us, but it takes a certain type of person to admit it and be that without hinderance. [Finally and slowly, he began to lift his cheek from Richard's palm, all so that he could look the other in equally mismatched eyes.] Perhaps in time, you and I show some of our darker secrets to each other. There is comfort in knowing another with such darkness I've been told.

[He inclined his head a little, agreeing in his own way. There was always worse.]

And what is it that you like to do in the dark, hmm?

[Scare children? Murder rivals? Plot to overthrow those in power? Fortify a position? Whisper ones secrets to no one as if daring someone to be there to listen?]

[There's a small, soft hum of laughter from him when Silco automatically resorts to speak praises of the daughter. Jinx, unfortunately, did not leave the best impression on Richard during their meeting. Her behavior seemed sloppy and unnecessarily reckless. A loose tongue and lack of discretion were a recipe for disaster. But he would not judge the feelings between a parent a child. His own father had loved him unconditionally while others would have abandoned him and leave him to die. If anything, the loyalty Silco shows towards his daughter, despite their stormy state of relationship, only strengthens his belief in him. Maybe even some admiration.

But the smile wavers, toning down when Silco pulls away and breaks the physical connection between them. He, too, withdraws his hand away, eyes lingering briefly on the faint collection of scars, bruises and what not around the man's throat and upper body. Following the trace until they disappear under the blanket. He shared a quite lot of similar marks on his body, proofs of battles fought and blood spilled. A proof of his determination and resolve.]

There is comfort in solitude, too. [Or so he had thought, all until Buckingham had dragged him out of his shell and showed him just what it is like to feel the warmth of another body and to grasp on the light. He kept earning for that contact and heat, both in body and soul. But his other half wasn't here, leaving him to struggle through the coldness of the nights and face the solitude once again.

He then turns away, looking back at the dancing flames in front of them.]

You first. [information for information. that seems fair, doesn't it?]

[At first, he wasn't certain if the little laughter was to mock him for his dedication, especially in light of the fact that Jinx wasn't on speaking terms with him, or if it was some other reason. Perhaps after a few hours of rest, he would come back to that noise and decide how to react about to, being too late be damned.

He had been in dragged into a fair share of fights in his youth; it was a hazard of being close to someone as large as Vander. He had various old knife wounds and little punctures here and there. The bullet holes were the freshest if one didn't count the yellowing fading bruises on his throat and the defensive bruising on his arms. That Richard's eyes moved over them didn't bother him in the least; he was older and cared very little what others thought of his body. It was his, and he owned it.]

Mmm, there is. You keep the world out of your business better that way, but it is also a lonely road to walk. We can't unleash our true potential alone. [He understood the sentiment all the same, and there were many times he basked in solitude to ponder. He had a select handful of people he trusted to know more than surface level, and Jinx was the only one he was truly close to. Unfortunately, that relationship could be rather one-sided.] Is that what you wish in this place? Solitude?

[He snorted softly at the demand. Two men with too many secrets and an unwillingness to trust exposing themselves. It was great, and normally he didn't have to worry; people liked to talk about themselves usually. Richard did not. Neither did Silco.

He instead released his hold on the blanket so he could shift his weight to lean down so that he could rest his cheek against Richard's shoulder. He rested his forehead against that slim column of neck, and if he concentrated, he expected to be aware of that beating pulse.]

I like to sit in silence and ponder my next moves mostly. Yet, there are times when I have someone pleasure me, or I secret my way through the dark to watch an enemy humiliate themselves, or I yearn for something that I can have just for myself where I share with no one.... [He watched the flames.] Your turn.

Edited 2024-07-07 19:04 (UTC)

[He would like to say that whatever he wishes for matters not. Not anymore at least. Richard had sought for what his heart desired the most and had been punished by it, dragged as far away from the light as possible, made to live in this mockery of a foolish dream of his youth. 'Henry must be laughing in his grave', Richard thinks to himself, as he was here living the quiet dream that the man he knew used to have. But no.. Henry wouldn't laugh, only watch him with those sorrowful eyes -- one's that Richard once thought would be capable of loving everything in the world. Only to find out just how wrong he was.

Thinking of Henry always brought coldness to his body, the parts of his heart only succumbing to embrace of icy death even more. The shadows the forest crept into his mind, blacking out the light shining from the fireplace. It was only a matter of seconds until the cursed voice would begin to call for him again---

--But his thoughts are interrupted by the sudden warmth and weight on top of him as Silco moves closer. He doesn't flinch or try back away but there is still a subtle jolt of surprise rushing down Richard body, making him tense up and breath freeze still on his lungs. He does not dare to move even to turn his head to look down at the man, now leaning on him. Something akin to a fear spreading over his body, causing his heart beat to fasten, drumming ever so loudly in his ears.

He listens to Silco in silence, feeling a slight pang of heat raising from the depths of his soul, cheeks gaining a light flush. He understands. The yearn to have something to claim only for himself, never to share with anyone else. Yet while also desiring for the connection of souls.

Richard swallows air and stays quiet for at least a minute, contemplating on his own answer.]

There is a story of a demon born into world. [He says eventually, words distant and hollow. His chest ached.] There was a terrible storm that cut down trees. Night owl hooted and crows cried out. As if to announce that the age of misfortune had came. ['Your mother, she suffered so. Unnatural pains of labor,' the voices deep in the forest spoke to him, reciting the curse all over again,]

What was born was a bloodstained demon, not a man or a woman. Bearing no resemblance to either of the parent. ['To an undigested and deformed lump. And how she despised the ugly child she had given birth to.'] A prophecy was then told. That one day a great number of widows, a great number of orphans they would all lament the untimely deaths that the demon would bring about. ['And the people would ask, why was he born?']

That is my darkness.

[It was impossible not to feel how Richard stiffened up under the weight of his cheek, though he wouldn't count this any more bold than their previous little points of contact at the bar or the caves. He let his head where it was, awaiting Richard withdrawing from him and knowing it would fit how the rest of the evening had progressed.

Yet, his focus shifted to the legend of Richard's world, and it didn't take him long to understand that it was a tale of the younger man. It was telling, providing details layered over old pains or memories. How much of this story was Richard's opinion or one told to him over the years?]

A babe doesn't ask to be created and born. Those choices are beyond them. Perhaps all demons are born in darkness and will bring a lifetime of ruination even as they seek to build something greater. [He turned his head where it rested, his chin resting against Richard's collar bone.] Empires are built on the corpses of its people.

[His eyes dropped their gaze from the fire as he considered the tale, yet his eyes caught on material under that loose linen shirt. It was wrapped tight like a make-shift binding. Not a man or a woman. Surely not? Yet, the pieces lined up given Richard's shortness, delicate bone structure with layered muscle from training, feminine facial features, but there were certain features that one couldn't hide easily without physical interventions.

If it was true, he found nothing repulsive about it.]

A demon is what it is, and it is alluring regardless of what it hides under its clothes. It should be able to be unapologetically itself.

Heh. I see.

[Richards huffs out another laughter. 'What a typical answer for a man like him,' he thinks to himself, lips curling up in a sour smile. He's not exactly sure what he had expected to hear when telling the story that kept haunting him every waking hour. Maybe he had hoped shock of sorts? Disdain and appall, even? But he really should've known better. After all, the man did not seem to pay ear to the laws of the divine. Following no one but his own instinct and mind. How freeing it must be.

But then again, he was a man was he not? Unburdened by the thorns of cursed birth. No shame or crime imprinted on his very being. Maybe it is the realization of that difference between them that soured his mind with a disappointment.

Richard allows another pause fall between them, eyes falling half-shut as he still continued to sit still, like he had been nailed to the spot, looking at the fire but not truly seeing. It was quiet with Joan gone and the forest calmed down.]

The allure and temptation. They are both the workings of the demon, luring the souls with a deceit from what is righteous and just to darkness and ruin. [He had hoped that was something they shared between them. As two underdogs going against the currents of fate, seeking to carve a world of their own. Sinning and ultimately failing.]

Did you not see that as well? [Richard does remember Silco calling him a temptress during that night at Last Drop. Had he not seen through the game that he had been playing back then. Pushing and pulling, to see how far he could invite the other man. Was that not also what had driven him here tonight?]

[He expected that over half of their conversations were a test of Richard slowly leeching out information and waiting for him to withdraw and be reviled by the younger man. Silco was not easily put off of the plight of others, though under normal circumstances, the misery of others made them ripe for being used. Unfortunately, he had connected with Richard on a similar level as he had Jinx all those years ago, so his current interest in taking advantage of such personal twisted tales did not manifest.

He hummed in a faint sort of disagreement, though perhaps it was more because he did not particularly allow strong beliefs in higher powers having control of his life and decisions.] I prefer darkness and ruin, so the temptation suits me just the same. It seems to me that you go so far and then stop, so this alluring nature has stopgaps to protect yourself.

[Slowly, he lifted his head from where it was situated on Richard's shoulder, though he remained physically close. This time, he let his forehead rest against Richard's temple, and his blue eye closed as if he were keen to rest in this new position.]

You bind your chest. [It wasn't a question.] Is the demon before me neither man nor woman, one gender or best of both worlds?

[Was Richard's world a type of place that would never allow a woman to sit the throne? They didn't have royalty in Zaun or Piltover, but he'd read histories of the lands where there was gender disparity.]

[The word, whether Silco meant it or not, felt more of an accusation than a simple observation, causing the brows knit together and form a heavy frown on Richard's face. It's enough to actually finally move and turn his head to look down at Silco. Had he not just a moment ago foregrounded the necessity of holding back in order to survive?

Aldrip was no England. He had no lands, no name, no wealth, no allies. He was utterly alone in this strange world, fumbling around like a blind bird trying to flying on his own. He knew better than to show his true colors, keeping his pride and ambition hidden along with his true colors.

But the harshness does not have enough time to settle on his face before it melts away in face of yet another surprise rush of new, confusion emotions spark as he feels the weight shift on him once again. This time pressing closer with a intimacy that wasn't there before. He blinks twice, strange anticipation growing inside him and throat growing tight.]

Sil-- [He begins to ask, voice low and hushed. But then the rest follows and Silco reveals his deductions of the night. His eyes widens and the color on his face drains, the previous flush disappearing in a blink of an eye. The cold fear strikes down on his body, but not like needles prickling on his skin. No, this time it's like a sharp blade of sword cutting him apart. The breath gets stuck on his throat as the wines coil around him, choking him.

And ah. There it is again. The dark forest with its taunting whispers are back.

Richard pulls back, withdrawing away from the source of heat and from Silco. Both of his arms cross over his chest protectively.]

What--- What did you say? [He croaks, his own voice echoing in his own ears.]

[This place was what the made of it, and that's why he was willing to lean into this. He had nothing left to go back to, but that wasn't the point of this place. It was their purgatory and yet it had its own opportunities if one was willing to take them. He had to wonder if that's why he came here, to explore an opportunity he might otherwise deny himself.

His passive expression changed to mild confusion before he shifted to neutrality as he watched the emotions flit across the younger man's face. That was the expression of fear, and the stiffness of the body caused him to still in return as a just in case.

He let Richard go, sitting up as he watched the younger man and waited to see if Richard would get up and flee. Suddenly he was far more awake now than he had been since arriving, and he eased closer again once it seemed that the younger man would stay on the pelt. He made a point to not touch Richard but brought himself in close proximity.]

I said you bind your chest. It's okay. It's perfectly natural to do so for some. If this frightens you, your secret will remain with me. I meant to harm by pointing it out, but... your story and now the binding...

[Of course Richard has all the reasons to be afraid. Silco is not the first one to have discovered what he was hiding underneath the cold exterior of steel and leather. There had been a few others and Richard could not help but hear each one of their voices in his head as Silco pressed in closer.

'Hey, this kid is a girl..' The face of a bandit had transformed in a blink of an eye from a man to a beast, looking down at piece of meat before him with hungry eyes. All until the truth was revealed and the beast shook in horror and disbelief.

'Stay away from me, demon!' Henry covering in fear on floor, crying for him not to come any closer and begging help from the God.

'Did you think I would despair?' Or Buckingham's controlled words, traveling over his body along with those strong hands that would bring warmth so intense that Richard thought he was burning alive. Eyes seeing and understanding.

Richard's quickly extends out his hand to grasp on Silco's shoulder, fingers curling tightly around the clavicle. It's not to push him away or pull him closer, but to keep him still as he ties to make sense of the moment that is so quickly slipping out of his control. Richard briefly casts his eyes up to the ceiling to try find the source for the choir of voices, whispering to him. But as expected, he sees nothing. Just the shadows of tree branches reaching out to swallow the light of the fireplace.

His pulse quickens as the voices keep encouraging him, sneering and laughing him to go for it. God is not here so what does a demon have to fear? When the man is already there and showing interest despite knowing.

Then, fighting against the fear that would keep him frozen like a deer in headlights, Richard swiftly pushes forward. He adds strength to the push, hoping to shove Silco back enough that he can crawl to straddle the man.]

If you truly wish to know. [He says, bringing his free arm to grip on the man's jaw and force it up to meet his eyes.] If you wish to witness it all.. Then, show me a proof. [The words feel heavy as they slip past his tongue, full of command and still wavering in desperation. Desperate to see a proof of loyalty, that he will not be rejected no matter what.]

[Silco let Richard snatch back a sense of control, understanding it was necessary in a time like this after his apparent bombshell of a truth. He stayed where he was for the moment, watching the traumas of the past flit across Richard's face as he would when it came to Jinx. He employed the same tactics too, giving a sense of closeness without imposing, offering silence and being attentive for the time being.

There was something in Richard's minds eye he knew, but whether it was Joan or some other haunted imagery he dared not ask at a time like this. His gaze flicked to the ceiling but aside from the shadows moving because of the flames in the hearth there was nothing to look at except bare ceiling.

And like so many times before, Silco did not resist being shoved backwards. He sprawled backwards on the pelt, the blanket trapped under him so he lay in the vulnerable position of nudity. Richard covered the distance quickly, and suddenly, he found himself looking up at the younger man - woman? - over him, felt the weight of that frame on his own.]

It's okay. [He repeated the words like a promise but carefully. He understood the desperation for acceptance well, and he knew what had to be done.] I'm going to touch you, Richard. [It was a warning against that command, to give Richard time to move away from him from his hands as he lifted them. He kept them in plain view as he reached out to grasp Richard's shoulders first then slid his hands down over that flattened chest with no revulsion, only curiosity.

At the bottom of the slide of Richard's torso, his hands slipped up under the loosen linen to slide back up the same way.] I accept you as you are, Richard, demon or human or whatever you wish to be referred to. I will not reject any part of you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All my reasons cut like knives (Open)

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cw: nudity & ...groping?