citylogs | ( semi-open ) though it may hurt today

[Were.

That's the word the sinks in. Somehow, Daan never thought his heart could be broken more, but here they are. Daan's eye closes, and he feels a tremor pass through his body again, trying to hold everything back. He hates this, he hates feeling so vulnerable; he's learned again and again to protect himself because the world won't do it for you, but he has no where to turn here.

And right now, he almost sees himself. Roland is a mirror to his own mourning.

Slowly, he kneels down in front of the other man.]

I'm sorry.

[And he means it, so much more than words alone can express. He wants to tell Roland. He doesn't want to. The urge to scream with him.]

What was her name?

[ he's sorry, he says. if roland had come from a world that treated him better, that treated death as something more than a mere inconvenience, he would've taken that laying down. but his fists clench until his knuckles turn white, and he's doing all he can not to punch the good doctor.

so he inhales, and exhales. swallows around the lump forming in his throat, until he can finally unclench - but he doesn't make any attempt in stopping the tears that fall down his face. there's no shame in crying once you've been pushed to that brink, after all. ]

Angelica. [ he manages to croak out. ] She... She used to be a Fixer, like me. But we stopped for a while, to... To settle down. Have a kid. She was coming along, last time I remember.

[His wife wanted children, he remembers absently. When she said that, Daan felt a brief internal panic. What example can I even live by? His own parents were worse than useless, how could Daan fair as a father? It never got to that point, though, and Roland was actually planning--]

What happened to her, if I may ask?

[As he asks, he's taking out a handkerchief, silently offering it to the other man. His heart aches for so much, but right now he feels the most for Roland.]

[ he hesitates, before picking up the handkerchief and dabs it at his eyes. the feeling of embarrassment is setting in, but it's nothing compared to the hollow feeling of reliving it all over again. ]

I was... away, on a mission. A favor for a friend. But then a Distortion appeared in our district in the form of a Pianist that-- that played music. Blasted the most beautiful, dissonant music that... that killed virtually everyone in the surrounding area. Including my wife and our unborn child.

[ he sounds hollow, but talking about it does make him feel better. kind of. it helps that daan is patient. you sure you're not a shrink, doc? ]

[There it is. A cruel end. Behind Roland's outward nature is that loss, and that's... something he knows too well. A family stolen away, and the world doesn't stop turning for you to mourn. The world doesn't care.

Daan takes a moment, then sets down the tiny box that was left for him in his safety deposit. Opening it reveals a set of elegant looking sewing tools: scissors, needle, thimble.]

This was my wife's. Her name was Elise.

[ roland blinks, taking in the sight of sewing tools. and then it hits him just as quick.

was. ]

...Ah.

[ his pitch-black heart aches. of course daan would understand. he knows the pain all too well. the sheer realization of it thankfully isn't enough to make roland transform into an eldritch being for now, but he clutches at his own chest all the same. ]

What... happened to her?

...When I was a young man, her father took me in. Baron Eihner von Dutch taught me how to be a doctor, and in return I educated him all I knew on the Old Gods. I thought all I was doing was satiating a man's curiosity. An indulgence.

When I returned home from the war, both the baron and Elise were dead. The baron killed himself, and presumably his own daughter in some ritual. A god I didn't know.

I... gave everything to try to bring her back. [Absently, he rubs at the edge of his eyepatch.] I sacrificed parts of myself, but it was too late. I was too late.

[ ...wow. first off, roland wasn't off the mark when he told daan that he could've been a nest kid in his City; the title of baron sounds rather fancy enough one. but the concept of gods and rituals are lost on roland; there doesn't seem to be a proper religion in the City he's from, and the bigger ones are just money-hungry schemes in disguise.

maybe that's what had gotten daan into that mess. he believed too much, and look where it had gotten him. roland takes a glance at the eyepatch, then down on their respective hands again. ]

...I see.

[ he doesn't bother with an apology. words like that mean nothing to men like them anymore. ]

But you did all you could to bring her back. And even if it didn't go anywhere you had hoped... [ his lips purse together, before handing daan back his handkerchief. ] Well. You probably don't need comforting words like that. But I... understand the pain of being left behind, if it's any consolation.

Edited 2023-07-21 22:56 (UTC)

I know you do. When you cried out, I-- it felt like what I've held inside for so damned long.

[An anguish he knows too well.

He grips the handkerchief, then tucks it away into his vest. It's selfish, but there's a comfort in knowing someone else does understand the pain, even a little bit.]

Obviously I can do nothing to remove this kind of pain, Roland. But I'm here. I hope that it's... something for you too.

[ it's... weird, hearing that someone empathizes with his plight. losing a loved one is commonplace in the city he's from, and stories like his are a dime a dozen. there's nothing special about death and dying the more you're exposed to it, after all.

he's silent for a while, as he gets himself together and closes his eyes. when he speaks, his voice is low, slightly trembling, and reverent. ]

"...You are like those who never left
the sad fireside corner of my poor black heart."

[ another deep breath, another deep exhale as he opens his eyes and faces daan. ]

Mm. I feel a bit better now. A bit headache-y, but... Thank you, doc. You patched me up just fine.

[Is that a poem? He might think to ask later. It's dark, but beautiful. For now, well... Daan picks up the little box and slides it into his pocket, its weight terrible. He'll never have the heart to dispose of it, though.]

I'm glad, Roland. I mean that.

[And he doesn't say it, but honestly Roland being present has helped Daan as well, keeping him grounded. At least enough for the moment.]

Fuck. Let me make you a drink after we get out of here. I think it's time for that, yeah?

A... drink?

[ he sniffles, massaging his temples as he gets up on his feet to dust himself off. ugh, he'll need to wash his face and stuff before going out there again. this has been so embarrassing... ]

Okay, I get being a chainsmoker and all that, but bartending too? Something tells me you aren't just a normal doctor.

[ at least he sounds teasing just now. it's fine. we are so fucking back. ]

What? It's not like I've spent all my life as a doctor. I did other things too. Though technically I was a butler who happened to learn how to bartend on the fly.

[you aren't just born a doctor gosh!]

Anyway. I have a few specialties, and I'll fix up something for you. Hell knows we need it after this bullshit.

A butler...

[ the fuck. you can't get any more nest-y than that!! rich people really do be having the time of their lives picking up more hobbies compared to backstreeters who are fighting for their lives on the daily. ]

Yeah. We sure as hell do. Might need to get home and nap this off first, though. [ and also to clean himself up. he just had a mental breakdown, okay. though this isn't the first time where he can easily jump back from it... ] Really, though. Thanks. I owa ya big time.

Don't mention it. I would say if anything, consider us even.

[After all, Daan might not have had a visual breakdown in front of Roland but god damn he was close! Real damned close!]

For now, it seems like we have to worry about getting the hell out of here. What a pain.

[ is it truly even? it looked like daan is more put-together than roland here. it's probably the mettle he has as a doctor, but it would've been nice to see the guy break a little. just so roland wouldn't be alone.

roland blinks at the vault doors, sniffling. ]

Yeah, that's going to be a problem. Let me see if I can...

[ he slips on the gloves, flicks his wrist - but nothing happened. ]

Huh? But-- where are they...?

[don't worry man, one day for sure]

Where is what?

[There's a confused moment, then it occurs to Daan that maybe the gloves are more than just a piece of clothing. Are they empowered in some way?]

Items with an otherworldly effect don't appear to work in this place. I encountered this problem when I arrived with some unique medication that no longer held any healing properties. So, if that was supposed to make a new door for us or something, I'm afraid we're out of luck there.

See, I wouldn't call these gloves otherworldly... I'd say they're more technologically advanced than your average pair. I could pull out something that'll help us bust out of here, but--

[ throws up hands!! ]

Okay, let's figure this out, then. Uhh, you got that note in your box too?

I don't have a whole lot of knowledge on that sort of thing. But it's also not surprising when you can't even find a car with a fucking engine in this place.

[wompwomp anyway]

Right. The riddle about sharing. I feel like we did quite a bit of that. Is there more to it? [Fortunately, he did pocket the note, so he's gonna just unfold it and hold it out to Roland so they can review it.]

Yeah, that was weird. Taking away any living being is one thing, but the thought of taking engines from cars just in case people like us are gonna try some shit is a little funny, not gonna lie.

[ there's nothing to laugh about in this situation, though. roland squints at the note, then looks down at the pair of gloves. ]

"If you will not share it, you cannot use it." Maybe we gotta exchange them? For maybe a couple of minutes. Then talk about them a little. I dunno, I'm not too eager to spill my gloves' backstory even to a reliable guy like you, Doc. No offence.

It's pretty excessive, if you ask me. Still, I guess it's not like we could take the cars anywhere anyway.

[Daan shrugs, putting on a faint smile.] Oh, I'm reliable? I'll take the praise. [But more seriously, he adds:] Anyway, I'm in agreement about sharing. I feel like we both had plenty of that already, and I'm not eager to get into more details myself.

I don't know how I'd have you use the sewing kit, though. Unless you want to make something with it?

Nah, I wouldn't know how to use it. My wife probably would've figured out a way, though.

[ he speaks of her so casually now. reluctantly, he extends the pair of gloves over to daan to take it. it's made of sleek, high-quality material, and it probably would've felt heavy if it weren't for this weird world taking away certain abilities. ]

About the gloves, I used to wear them before. I couldn't help it, what with her being gone and all. [ he smiles wistfully. ] You know how to sew?

[There's a soft noise from Daan, almost a laugh as he takes the gloves. Excellent make, well made; after his life living in the Baron's estate, Daan has gotten an eye for these things, for better or for worse.]

Of course. One could hardly blame you. [Daan certainly doesn't!]

Hell, I sure hope so. I've sutured enough patients. [He smiles wryly.] I never learned to make clothes or dolls, but I'm an excellent surgeon. I'd be lucky to know how to make curtains, though.

These gloves are beautiful. Good taste, I should say. Though I'm not sure what abilities you were expecting of them.

Oh yeah, you can do that. You're better off learning how to make certains, though. Hopefully I don't get too banged up to the point where I'd need to get stitches...

[ unless there's anesthetic lying around here somewhere? even then, he'd rather take an HP ampoule to the arm than resort to such primitive methods of first aid... ugh, just thinking about it makes him cringe. ]

Haha, thanks. The gloves act like a dimensional pocket. It's where she stores all her weapons, and why I could try blasting the vault door down to get us outta here. She's got quite the collection.

Let's hope so. Doing stitches on someone without some kind of way to numb the area is wretched.

[daan: not helping!]

Interesting. I can see why you tried what you did. Still, I'm not sure how sharing this information really helps us.

[god damn it are they gonna have to go Deeper]

( semi-open ) though it may hurt today

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