( open ) words like violence break the silence

[kovach]

CHARACTERS: takeshi kovacs & you
LOCATION: various locations on the station
DATE: late april
CONTENT: post-mission recovery, sad old man being sad.
WARNINGS: flashback references to murder and eye violence

I. RED ( cw: flashback references to murder and eye violence )   teleportation platform

---

[ when he comes back, his hands are still stained red, the blood long since dried. even when he rubs his thumbs over the crimson darkened in the creases of his fingers, it doesn't smear, and though he knows he can wash it off with water, it doesn't make it feel any less permanent.

the memory of vrizz's eyes lingers in his head as the crowd shifts around him, echoing a mix of relieved cheers and exhausted sighs following the end of the battle, but he doesn't hear any of it, distracted with the imagery of the blood slipping over the sharp end of his blade, trickling over his knuckles. the wet feel of it on his skin hadn't deterred him, and he continued to twist the knife mercilessly. the eyes that looked back at him were practically a mockery and the man's final chuckle repeats in his head.

You're only pretending to be one of the monsters, says quell's ghost from somewhere in his head, but as always, he doesn't believe her.

he's only distracted when he senses someone approaching, straightening himself to his full height, abandoning the far off look from his gaze. ] Made it back, huh?

II. BLUE   sunlight room

---

[ since he's arrived back, he's been filling the pages of his journal, most of it already scribbled with tales of the life behind him — the missions done for the protectorate, the life he'd found alongside the envoys, the work that had brought him back more than two centuries later. it's not in any kind of chronological order, instead just filling up the pages like scrambled chapters, prioritizing what might be most important to keep, never sure what he might lose next.

he's seated upon the grass near one of the small rivers within the sunlight room, journal open on his lap when he hears the shuffle of footsteps coming in close along the dirt. without drawing attention to himself, he closes the journal and tucks it underneath the bend of his knees, opening a carton of cigarettes to pull one out as if it'd been his intent all along.

lighting a match to heat the stick he places between his lips, he doesn't say anything to his new guest, even if he gives a brief turn of his head to see who they are, like they might catch the hint that he'd preferred the solitude.

except, despite what rugged and tired features might suggest, he never actually does. and because he could really stop himself, eyes to the river, he mutters out loud, ]

You think you want to remember all of this?

III. YELLOW   anything and anywhere

---

( feel free to discuss with me alternative options of the above prompts or something different altogether. if you'd like to discuss a closed starter for me to write, just hit me up on plurk at hepburns or send a pm. ♥ )

Comments

Blue

[morethan084]

[After, yet another explosive argument with Newt, Daisy wanders around the sunlight room. Letting the tears fall while she's by herself, but the moment she catches sight of someone sitting by the river she's quick to wipe her face. Getting closer, she sees that it's Kovacs.

Her instinct is always to isolate herself when she gets in her own head like this, but she forces herself not to do that right now. Kovacs is a comforting presence for her, and he's never judged her in the past. Hell, she could probably sit here not talking to him at all and have it not be awkward. Finally, she does just that and peers in his direction before bringing her knees to her chest and staring at the river.

There's a brief moment of silence before he speaks up, and she too keeps looking at the water.]

I don't know. Some of it I do, some of it--

[Daisy stops herself from continuing that sentence, her voice growing tight with emotions she hasn't had a chance to process yet.]

What about you?

[kovach]

[ it's not hard to tell there's something upsetting her, and a glance in her direction allows him to note the hint of dampness around her eyes, for all that she's clearly attempted to wipe them clean. he doesn't tend to pry for details, not for the things that aren't his business, so he allows the silence to sit between them as they simply settle there by the river. ]

I just wonder if we're supposed to. If we change things and then just ... go back to a different world, not knowing we've even made a difference.

[ especially since nothing in his own world will actually change. nothing but him.

for a moment, he falls quiet again, before turning to look at her, ]

Guess there's some things not worth remembering, huh?

[morethan084]

[Daisy falls silent as she mulls over his words, frown deepening. She doesn't even know what regret he's chosen to undo,]

If you're given the choice to remember or forget, what would you pick?

[Because she's gone back and forth between which she'd rather happen. There are things she's done here she's not proud of, and at times her regret that she wants to undo feels selfish. Of all of the things to have picked from. But those emotions are still raw for her, and she's still desperate to undo it.

Brows knitted together, her eyes are slightly puffy from crying as she meets his gaze before looking away.]

Yeah.

[kovach]

[ he could ask her further about what's twisting inside of her, leaving that empty silence open to give her the option to elaborate if that's what she wants to do. it's in that silence that he thinks about her question, something he hasn't considered to ask himself, not when he knows that the choice isn't his.

all the things he'd rather forget, all the things he wants to cling to remembering — how can he map it out in his head when he knows he's just going to be in for disappointment? ]

It doesn't really matter, does it? The things we'd choose. Even if we had an answer, it's likely that whatever it is that we'd want to forget, is exactly what it is that we're supposed to remember.

[ though she turns away, he doesn't stray his own eyes away. ]

Everything that hurts, you keep carrying that with you. Because the hurt, the frustration, the tears — that's what's gonna get you through all of this in the end. That's what drives you.

[morethan084]

[Wiping away a few stray tears with the back of her hand, Daisy nods as she looks down at the river. Still avoiding eye contact with him. There's so much she wishes she could say, but she can't bring herself to be vulnerable around him. So instead she does what she always does and buries all of that hurt and guilt.]

You're back to current you again.

i + ii

[bossily]

[She tries not to seek him out shortly after getting back to the station, but as per usual she looks for him on the platform right away. He's easy for her to spot in a crowd, and she hurries her way on over to him for a hug. It's only once she's in close that she takes notice of his hands and frets over him, but his insisting he's alright puts her at ease enough that she's able to pull away and really look him over. He seems to be just fine, just the same as she is. So it's with a promise that she'll see him later that she pulls away to go seek out anyone else that may need help getting to the infirmary.

When she stumbles upon him a few days later, she's surprised to see him out in the sunlight room. She thinks to leave him to whatever it is he's doing, but his taking notice of her and speaking up has her smiling contently as she moves in to sit next to him on the grass. Her legs curl in close to her chest, as she ducks her head down to rest her chin atop her knees.]

I didn't when I went back the first time.

[Her words come out soft, an accepted fact. There's nothing she can do to change the past. And she's not looking to bring up the fact that he's doing everything he can to fix her past to make it so she stays alive. So she leaves that thought there, eyes looking out to the river right ahead of them.]

But I want to remember everything. The good and the bad.

[there's a moment of hesitation before her head lifts, turning to look over to him.]

Why?

[kovach]

[ it's possibly too bold of a question to ask clara of all people, especially since it pertains to things he'd rather not clue her in on. but despite their complicated history, paired with the secrets he'll take to his grave rather than admit out loud to her, there's still a degree of trust that comes with being in her company — the kind that reminds him that, in the midst of being lovers for a time, she'd been a friend.

he thinks about her answer, her want of it. the good and the bad, she says, and he wonders if he's losing more of one or the either. there's really no way for him to know what's lost.

his eyes don't look at her directly, even with his head turned partially her way, his gaze still directly at the stillness of the water in front of them. ]

Just wondering how much of it's an option. If, when we ever get back, we know what we did.

[bossily]

[She doesn't say anything in response right away, but does nod in understanding of what he's said. Slowly though, her eyes do glance over to him. She takes in the sight of him gazing out toward the water. There's still a part of her that worries he resents her for being the cause of his deal changing. He has to stay here longer because of her.

But gone is the desire to try and desperately claw her way into his life. One way or another, their destinies seem fated to intertwine. The fact they've managed to find a friendship through the ruins of a romantic relationship speaks to that. ]

Is there anything here worth remembering?

[Her question comes out without any hesitation, voice warm. She's missed this, getting to talk about their thoughts and their worries. This sort of closeness with Takeshi is special to her. He still trusts her enough to open up to her. And that's something that's worth remembering, in her opinion.]

[kovach]

[ he doesn't make any mention about possibly losing those memories while still here, since the reality for him is that he'd be forgetting things long before he'd even get sent back to his own world. those are the things she shouldn't know, the things he'd never get around to telling her.

the question she asks is the very kind he doesn't like to answer, the sort that picks apart at his honest thoughts, below the surface of snark and sarcasm. it's even the kind he can't give a lie, knowing she'd be able to call him out on it.

so instead, he just stays quiet for a few beats, pensive before he speaks up again. ]

Guess some of it's been nicer than what I've got waiting for me back in my world. [ a world he barely even belongs to anymore. in terms of specifics — well, there's plenty he could name, some he's more insistent on keeping his lips sealed over than others.

but in terms of what's relevant to clara — it's easier to be honest about it now than he might've been before. ]

You're worth remembering.

blue

[malta]

[ joe has been sketching as he walks, not anything in the sunlight room itself so he doesn't have to stop winding his way through all the different path as he puts to paper exactly what the man asks. the sketches and fragments of notes are meant to share with nicolò when they're no longer parted, but art has long since been a repository for what joe wishes to remember. ]

I'd like to, though time has a way of erasing what I try to hold on to the most.

[ he scratches his temple, leaving a smudge of charcoal behind before adding something else to the sketch, satisfied enough to look away from the paper. ]

I'm sure there are moments I was desperate to remember forever that I don't even remember wanting to remember now.

[kovach]

[ he doesn't see what the man is putting down on his paper but the movements of his hand indicate a drawing, even before the charcoal smudge against his temple seems to confirm it. it's almost seemingly a parallel to his own journal, though he doesn't have the skill for any actual drawing; the sketches currently existing on those pages are the ones clara had put there before she'd given it to him as a present. ]

Time, huh?

[ funny, how time used to be the culprit for a worry like that. ]

I think time might make the inevitability of forgetting those things a little kinder. [ it's a sentiment spoken more to himself almost, even if he says it out loud as his eyes drift to the smoke leaving the end of his cigarette. ] Because at least you know it can last as long as it needs to. But it's the idea of everything just ... vanishing in an instant. One moment to the next — all of it gone.

[malta]

Maybe.

[ he closes his journal, holding it in front of him and very clearly considering. forgetting feels like losing parts of themselves and joe knows he has forgotten far more than he remembers. he is not the same man he was when his sword had cut through nicolò, nor is he the same man he was only a century ago, bits of himself carved off and replaced with something else, someone else, and sometimes they grieve for the loss of those men.

if nicky woke up tomorrow and lost all the memories of the person he was, would he still be the man joe fell in love with? yes. he would grieve for the parts he has lost, the lives they have both lost, but what a consolation in the enormity of being able to discover new parts of him to fall in love with tomorrow? ]

I don't remember the first time I kissed my partner. He does, and he'll remind me when I ask, but I woke one day and thought about it and there was nothing there. Now it isn't a memory, but like something I've read in a book. Some other man's life. [ he breathes out a soft noise, a huff of a ghost of a laugh, though there is little mirth in it. he's jealous of that man. ] Sometimes it can feel like a gift. How many firsts have I forgotten that I can experience again? But most of the time...

[ most of the time it sucks. ]

[kovach]

[ it might not be the kind of topic he expects to discuss with a stranger (as much of strangers as they can be, all living in this place where they're all aiming towards the same thing), but it might make it easier, hearing it from someone a bit more separated from himself, someone who doesn't know exactly all that he has to lose.

because the words he hears now, spoken from a different mouth, it's the very thing he wonders about, the things he's beginning to fear. ]

Most of the time. [ he repeats quietly, not finishing the sentence either, knowing that's where the strain of it lives. the pessimism carrying strength over the optimism.

he stares off for another long moment before he turns to looks again at the man. ]

Your partner — is it ... easier with him there? While your memories disappear, while you become ... someone else with time — you ever worry it might change you too much? How you see him, how he sees you.

yell🌟w

[naloxone]

[ she doesn't find him on the platform like she hoped she would. she tries not to let it worry her immediately, but it definitely does, prompting an almost frenzied pace to her feet as she weaves her way past the people still lingering about to make a steady beeline for the infirmary. it's strange to wish that he'd turned up there inside, knowing what it would mean, but any kind of injury would be far better than the alternative, that he hadn't come back with them at all.

despite her haste, it seems she isn't one of the first to arrive at the infirmary. funnily enough, as soon as she rounds the corner of the hallway it's on, she finds him walking right out of the doors, his own pace swift and determined. she stares at his retreating back for all of four seconds before her voice finds her, loud enough to be heard down the hall. ]

Stop.

[ there is a sharpness to her tone that isn't normally present, but the exasperation certainly is. besides, by now he should be more than used to her ordering him around. ]

Turn around. Get your culo back inside.

[kovach]

[ he doesn't immediately see her when he makes it back, eyes wandering around through the familiarity of faces as worn and exhausted as his own. he'd already ended up back in elias' body before the final transport back, but noticing himself in this skin now makes him all the more aware that he isn't likely to be changing out of it again anytime soon.

still, it's only a moment of flexing his fingers, skin broken at the knuckles from the wear of heavy fighting near the mission's end, though stained red from blood that isn't his own, before he reverts himself back to the search, deciding that if he can't find her here, there's one other place she's plenty likely to be.

except when he steps into the infirmary, she's not among the faces that are shuffling back and forth, a number of injured bodies already sliding to occupy some of the beds, her typically mending hands not jumping headfirst into her nurse role yet. it's with a mutter of a swear in his breath that he spins on his heel, hoping that her lack of presence doesn't mean she's injured again, needing the assistance to even walk the way she'd been last time.

it's with quick steps that he's right out the infirmary doors, ready to march on down the hall again before he's literally halted by the suddenness of her sharp tone. ]

What — ? [ he barely even gets to process seeing her before she's scolding him, his own brows squinting naturally tight, and all at once, he forgets the length of time it's been that he hasn't seen her like this, face to face, instinctive to respond to her commands. ] I just left.

[naloxone]

[ it really is him. flesh and bone, down to the scowl twisting up his brow and the contrary note in his tone. hear it enough times, and it sounds more petulant than instigative, pulling on threads of her heart so familiar she can't help the small smile that twitches the corner of her lips.

but it's a moment as brief as the first, because she takes note of all the blood drying on his skin and clothes and wonders if this is going to be a familiar sight after every mission.

she frowns again. ]

Without being seen, from the looks of things.

[ she takes the few steps closer to cross the distance between them, not stopping until she's just within arm's length. till they're close enough she can feel see his chest rise and fall with his breaths, maybe even take note of how it quickens like hers does. ]

Are you hurt?

[kovach]

[ he's used to it, the assertiveness she develops when it comes to looking after him, the way she'd followed him so persistently in scorpion's bend just to make sure that he was eating right or always being timely when it came to changing bandages over his old wounds before he'd be likely to forget entirely about tending to them. what's most apparent is how absent it's all been in the past month and some, how empty the air had become when absent of all he'd once have called nagging.

now, he can see her stepping closer, see the trail of her gaze wandering over him, knowing the ticking of her mind is flowing with questions about where to trace any possible injuries, that the nursing instincts always kick in without a beat at the first sighting of blood.

but that isn't on his mind, almost like he's more concerned with her mere presence, noting from his own end that she doesn't seem to be sporting any injuries the way she had the last time they made their return. ]

No. [ his voice is almost distracted, like it's only partially giving attention to answering her question, ignoring her previous accusation entirely.

instead, his hand lifts, blood dry enough on his skin that it doesn't smear to hers when his fingers touch her cheek, knuckles moving her hair back so he can get a proper look at her.

his breath is faster, but it's little to do with being hurt. ]

You okay?

blue 🌀

[calmness]

[ the sunlit room is one of the places where xichen goes to find peace, to contemplate. it is where solace is found, when the isolation of his room reminds him too much of what lay ahead if he were to return home without the success of undoing his regret.

walking through the grass, he's almost surprised to find company at this time. yet of all people, kovacs is one of the few that xichen does not mind spending time with even when searching for solitude in a public space.

he settles near him, offering a polite dip of the head and tired smile in greeting. ] Some of it, I do.

If I go back to the point I wish to change without remembering it at all, I don't know where my own hubris may lead. [ he won't have learned then, that he is merely human and capable of mistakes. ] Do you?

I see you are now in your old body... or you new body? [ that still makes his head spin. ]

[kovach]

[ kovacs doesn't often seek company, and in most scenarios, he'd rather do his all in trying to escape it. but there's some faces that bring a sense of peace, and though they've had their share of rowdier memories (hard to forget ending up beneath a table after a few bottles of liquor together), it's easy to recognize the calm he finds when xichen is around. ]

It's a body. [ he answers with a small humored huff in his breath, not sure how much claim to have over the body at all. ] But yeah, probably be stuck in this one for a while.

[ since he's not sure he ever left it at all. having his original face while on taeum might've not even been real at all. hard to tell.

he sighs, thinking of the prior question, eyes drifting to the river. ]

I think I do. But I'm not sure it's really up to me. Or any of us. Even making the choices that we are, it's hard to say we're in control of as much that we think we are.

[calmness]

I have to remind myself, bodies hold different value where you are from. [ to xichen, it is not such a simple thing.

a body and what happens to it, that affects what happens to a person's soul and the lives they lead once the current ends. ] Stuck? [ a curious choice of words.

yet, that is not what they are here to talk about if kovacs wishes to avoid it. ] I would agree with that. We have learned very little about the Orbs and those who brought us here and their goals, we only know what has been shared.

I hope we remember some of it. Some of the good things. [ his shoulders slouch slightly, before he straightens them again. ]

[kovach]

[ kovacs gives a small shrug at the question of stuck, knowing his feelings on it are probably almost too complicated to explain. but it's not like he's in so much anguish about the body he's in; he's been in countless sleeves in his past, and this definitely isn't the worst of them, especially since it has plenty of uses when it comes to having some advantages in a fight.

he's never been attached to any one body, even his original, to think of it as anything more than a tool to make use of while he's got it.

what matters more to him than his body — it's his mind. that's what he's more worried about.

for a moment, he goes quiet after mention of the orb, considering what he knows of them, maybe just a pinch more than the rest, just on account of the extra conversation he's had with them. ]

I think .... [ he speaks quietly, slowly, like he's unsure of how much to say on it. ] I think they'll do anything to keep us in check. I think what happens to us ... it doesn't matter to them in the end. Whatever they want, they won't really care if we get what we came for or not.

for yen;

[kovach]

[ there isn't much time left before the mission sets off, before he's meant to get ready to meet with alina and the others, slipping in through a portal that will finally see him getting over to sedorum. but despite the people he knows are over on the other side, faces he's longed to see during his weeks trapped in this bullshit version of heaven, he's aware he still won't get to see them, that time won't allow him even a moment to spare for brief reunions.

he's made his deal with the orb and this is what he's meant to be doing, battle-ready and on constant stand-by to do whatever needs to be done. the little time he hasn't isn't meant to be spent clinging to attachments.

there's an irony to that, since currently at his side is yennefer, someone he's spent a fair amount of time with these past weeks, seated with him now at the edge of a room that overlooks a vast empty sky. scooting forward would result in a drop to what almost appears like a void, though it's likely to be just a false image, one of the many illusions in the endless rooms of taeum. both of them together have had to endure its challenges, upholding false identities just to tug at whatever information they could pull from the rich souls living here in this afterlife.

now, here they are, closing in towards the end of the line. ]

Few hours till all hell breaks loose. [ it isn't even meant to be a play on words, yet it is, aware that hell is meant to be exactly what's going to be opening up. taking a gulp straight from the bottle, he holds out the tequila to her. ] Rest of the team's gonna come through.

[choicely]

[ Part of Yennefer wants to be more surprised when Kovacs informs her in no uncertain terms that he'll be going over to Sedorum when the portals are in place — hers, as well as Entr'i's, enabling those to cross over more easily from one realm to another — but when he finally informs her that he'll be placing himself on the other side, joining the others there in an effort to fight, she only meets the confirmation with a nod of resignation.

Her own place is here; she's fought at least one major battle in a war she wanted no role in, and the consequences for that had been more costly than she'd been prepared to accept. This much, for now, seems more feasible for her to achieve, especially now that she can feel her chaos fully returned here — not dampened as it had been on the station.

For now, the night is quiet, a hush falling over Taeum as if everyone within knows what's to come; she's spent nights like this before, at Sodden, before the worst happens, and rather than waiting for the blade to fall she's going to savor the quiet while she can, briefly lost in meditative thought before Kovacs' words draw her from her reverie.

She takes the bottle from him, considering it in her hand before drinking straight from the neck; it's warming, different from any Nilfgaardian ale or Redanian lager, and her nose visibly scrunches up into a distinct expression as she tries to persist through swallowing. ]

You're putting a lot of faith in them. [ She hands the bottle back to him, voice thickened from the alcohol, but the tension in her shoulders has lessened by the time she leans forward over the rail on the balcony they're standing on, watching the moon rise over the ocean waves in the distance. ] Well-earned?

[kovach]

[ she probably hadn't been the kind of company he expected to spend as much time with as he has, not when he'd met her and his eyes had rolled instantaneously at the magic use, a concept he still has a hard time really wrapping his head around. but he also thinks it's made it a bit easier, having someone around that's a disconnect to how he's spent all his previous months before, a tangle that had gotten him into the predicament he is now where the things in his head might not be his own to hold onto anymore.

considering that he doesn't know what to expect when he goes onto the other side — he never really knows whether he's going to make it through, and he doesn't really bother thinking about it too hard — the shared bottle hangs between them almost like a possible farewell that he never puts a name to in times like these.

he isn't intentional in sounding chummy about the group, up until she puts a spotlight on it, his lips pursing for a bit with his momentary reluctance to admit as such. ]

They've pulled it off a number of times now. This is your first, but — well, they've been at it a while. [ so has he, but he doesn't say. that's already known. ] Everyone's ... got something to push harder for. No point if any of us go at it half-assed.

[choicely]

[ It had taken her a few hours to get used to this face in particular — not that she hadn't sussed out it was him eventually, given that some mannerisms and unconscious expressions are impossible to disguise no matter what set of features anyone happens to be wearing. She hadn't even purposefully intended for him to become the one orber whose company she lingered in for the greatest amount of time here on this side of the realms, but with days now behind them, she finds that she's almost looking to his leaving with the smallest piece of denial.

All the more reason to stay awake tonight, she thinks, glancing out to their shared view; not only does she find it difficult to rest the evening before what might loom over them tomorrow, but she's also come to slightly favor his companionship. Not that she'd go as far as to admit that aloud, especially not directly to his face. ]

So I've heard. [ She's participated in enough conversations even in this mission to garner a sense of how many there have been prior, all of them met with some level of success even at a cost. ] None like this, though. None with a war that isn't necessarily theirs to even fight.