ximilialog | ( open ) words like violence break the silence

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. ♥ )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.

[ 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.

[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.

[ her nod is enough, a silent acknowledgement that takes his words, though he might not have even needed that. sometimes nothing needs to be said at all. so he merely takes a breath, eyes steering back to the river, parallel to her gaze, until she speaks again. ]

Yeah. [ he answers easily, a sigh leaving his lips as he peers down to his hands, their shape still not really his own. ] Not sure I ever left this body. Other one was just a visible idea, I guess.

Yeah. That whole place was…

I had no scars on me or anything. Forgot what my body looked like without them.

[She hated the scar she had on her stomach at first, it was a constant reminder of a terrifying moment in her life. Eventually she grew to look at it differently.]

Kind of scary just how easily these places can take what they want from us, or make us look a certain way.

[ he can hear the slight trauma in her tone, how that place somehow must have shaken her. it was jarring for him to experience that change, but somehow, he'd had an easier time accepting it. the gift of being an envoy — you learn to resist a psychotic break when the change is overwhelming. ]

When life isn't about ... constantly changing your entire face, you begin to forget the smaller changes. The way the body ages with time, wrinkles deepening, scars forming. It's the slight visuals to what's happening on the inside — the change of the mind.

[ he gives a small shrug like it's a casual thought, even when it's anything but. ]

Maybe it'd been a way to show us what really has changed. Maybe how this place has changed us too.

[Daisy listens intently to Kovacs as she watches the gentle way he water moves, the sound of it calming her mind a little. Her thoughts are still somewhat distracted by what happened with Newt, but it’s easier to push that conversation to the back of her mind. For now, at least.]

That was—

[She looks over to him, smiling gently.]

Very insightful of you. Who knew you could be such a deep guy.

[She knew.]

[ he snorts a light sound at her observation, his eyes nearly rolling, while his lips quirk into a barely visible smile.

sometimes, he gets too much into his own head, spouting sentimental thoughts that he often ends up hating himself for. it's the price of what it's like being an envoy, of perceiving everything about the world around him at all moments. then again, that quality had followed him before then too. maybe he'd just always been that way. ]

I like to take a break from my typical childlike nature. Pretend I'm a lot wiser than I really am.

Yeah, you know. I didn't want to say anything, but you definitely need to work on being more serious sometimes.

[Which is obvious sarcasm, especially when that remark is paired with a smile.]

[ well, that definitely couldn't be a more obvious tease, and he wonders for a moment just how stiff he's been all this time, how frigid his personality has been in the eyes of the others. funny how he hasn't always been that way, remembering how much more freedom he felt to smile in the company of the envoys.

for a long time, he'd lost reason for it. maybe, just maybe, he's been finding reason again. ]

Don't worry. From here on out? Not a single joke from this mouth.

Good. I’d be concerned otherwise.

[Daisy reaches out to punch him lightly, affectionately, in the upper arm. Whether or not he’s realized it, he’s just helped stopped her from completely spiraling. Which is exactly what happened during the entirety of her prison sentence on the last mission.]

How are you doing? We haven’t really had the chance to talk in a minute.

( open ) words like violence break the silence

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