clare (
moralperil) wrote in
exsiliumlogs2013-08-14 11:58 am
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Entry tags:
alcohol, your songs resound like my life never will
Date & Time: 8/13/13, evening, two hours after this conversation.
Location: a bar of Jack's choosing
Characters: Mahdi (
moralperil) & Jack (
allucinator)
Summary: Mahdi's celebrating his one year anniversary in Exsilium. Jack promised Mahdi a drink, Mahdi bumped it up to two.
Warnings: TRIGGER WARNINGS: PTSD episodes, discussion of sexual abuse.
[There's a lot for him to think about, out in the rain. Mahdi tries not to sulk and dwell on being called 'kid', on being treated childishly. In a year here, he's only just recently started to understand this attitude comes from people who want to look out for him. They can't know how impossible a task that is.
It sucks, in a way. He'll probably always be the one who's like a little brother, the treasured friend, the ally and angel but never more than that. These are all great things to be, things Mahdi is happy to be, but he wonders why it seems like the only way to be thought of as an adult is to act cynical and jaded. It seems to him like not letting the world change you is a form of maturity, too, but the sincerity and sweetness he treasures are not valued by all.
Normally, Mahdi doesn't get so reflective, but it has been a year and nearly two weeks since he's arrived. He's been thinking about a lot of things lately, like how it's been over two years since he's seen his family and the last real conversation he had with his sister Fayra was about how he needed to get out more, how he ought to go dancing with her, how he needed to try and have fun and get a date since it's been two years since that last guy, dang it.
(Okay, now it's been more like four.)
But Mahdi hasn't been trying like she'd want him to, even though he has more opportunity here. He rarely goes out at night. He usually stays home, maybe practices some recipes and just goes to bed early.
Maybe he actually finds this place pretty depressing. It's time he stopped, he figured. It's time he took some kind of move in his personal life.
When Mahdi turns up at the bar, he's no longer in the casual-disheveled state he had been when they chatted on the tablets. He's pulled his hair back into a loose braid, and he's wearing a nice blue sweater and trousers. He arrives a few minutes earlier than two hours, so worried he might be late or find the wrong place. He pulls off his yellow raincoat with a shiver, and searches the room for Jack. If he hasn't arrived yet, he'll find a table or something - stools are just too challenging for him.]
Location: a bar of Jack's choosing
Characters: Mahdi (
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Summary: Mahdi's celebrating his one year anniversary in Exsilium. Jack promised Mahdi a drink, Mahdi bumped it up to two.
Warnings: TRIGGER WARNINGS: PTSD episodes, discussion of sexual abuse.
[There's a lot for him to think about, out in the rain. Mahdi tries not to sulk and dwell on being called 'kid', on being treated childishly. In a year here, he's only just recently started to understand this attitude comes from people who want to look out for him. They can't know how impossible a task that is.
It sucks, in a way. He'll probably always be the one who's like a little brother, the treasured friend, the ally and angel but never more than that. These are all great things to be, things Mahdi is happy to be, but he wonders why it seems like the only way to be thought of as an adult is to act cynical and jaded. It seems to him like not letting the world change you is a form of maturity, too, but the sincerity and sweetness he treasures are not valued by all.
Normally, Mahdi doesn't get so reflective, but it has been a year and nearly two weeks since he's arrived. He's been thinking about a lot of things lately, like how it's been over two years since he's seen his family and the last real conversation he had with his sister Fayra was about how he needed to get out more, how he ought to go dancing with her, how he needed to try and have fun and get a date since it's been two years since that last guy, dang it.
(Okay, now it's been more like four.)
But Mahdi hasn't been trying like she'd want him to, even though he has more opportunity here. He rarely goes out at night. He usually stays home, maybe practices some recipes and just goes to bed early.
Maybe he actually finds this place pretty depressing. It's time he stopped, he figured. It's time he took some kind of move in his personal life.
When Mahdi turns up at the bar, he's no longer in the casual-disheveled state he had been when they chatted on the tablets. He's pulled his hair back into a loose braid, and he's wearing a nice blue sweater and trousers. He arrives a few minutes earlier than two hours, so worried he might be late or find the wrong place. He pulls off his yellow raincoat with a shiver, and searches the room for Jack. If he hasn't arrived yet, he'll find a table or something - stools are just too challenging for him.]
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[Mahdi stretches out his hands behind his back, making himself taller on this toes a moment.]
Maybe no one else would even notice the changes, you know?
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But for what it's worth, I like you how you are now. I don't think you need to change, or anything.
Except for the punching. And maybe doing illegal stuff. But I encouraged at least one of those, so I'm kind of to blame.
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[He pushes his hand through his hair. After a moment's thought:]
I do need to change. I'm . . . off. There's a lot wrong with me.
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Really? Why do you think so?
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Because I am. Because I can't touch people and I have nightmares all night and I can't-- I can't sleep, and I just--
I'm broke.
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No. [Mahdi comes to a dead halt, chin raised, hands on his hips.] You're not broke. Or broken. You invited me out, and opened up to me, and we've had a good time. You've been very sweet all night. I don't see a single thing wrong.
I'll make you some cookies, okay? If I get the recipe right, maybe it will help you sleep well.
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Unless you got somethin' that can make you stop havin' nightmares, I doubt it. But I appreciate it.
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Well... I won't know until I try. I can't use my powers on myself. But I will try.
I'd offer to sing you a lullaby, but since you don't like singing...!
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You're an idiot. What kind o' cookies?
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[Mahdi starts walking backward again, smiling. This of course means he walks into a pole.]
Ow--!
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[Mahdi rubs the back of his head where he hit the pole, and then hurries a few steps ahead, nose in the air.]
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[He grabs his wrist with a grin and tugs him back, trying to keep him close.]
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What? [Mahdi says. Though he's still using a pouting voice, he's laughing. It seems to please him that Jack doesn't want him running off. He doesn't pull out of his grasp.]
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[He wrinkles his nose. God, but he's shit at apologies. Vaguely he tugs at Mahdi's wrist, pulling him closer.]
Don't go away.
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[This is surprising. Mahdi doesn't know why he's just grinning like crazy.] I'm not going anywhere, but please don't call me dumb and idiot so much. [Even if it's different when Jack says it, like he says it because he wants to be nice but can't, Mahdi does have his reasons for disliking the words. He pats the hand Jack's holding him with.]I'll stay just this close, okay?
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[He flushes, though it might not be visible in the rain. Stupid, he thinks savagely at himself, stupid stupid stupid, because Mahdi had just told him that his ex was verbally abusive (among other things), and what's the first thing Jack does?
Stupid, but he doesn't let go.]
Tell me something good.
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[He says that a little dimly, staring up into the rain-- and he holds his hand, fingers curling tight around Mahdi's, because who really cares, who will ever know--]
Keep talkin'. Please.
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[Mahdi squeezes his hand gently. He won't start walking back toward the housing until Jack feels like leaving.
He's still feeling pretty buzzed, he realizes, and maybe that's why all of this seems easy. Everything's lovely, drifty, and Jack is warm beside him.]
We don't have them, in the Above.
But ah... we have fountains! Lots of fountains. And spires.
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The highest building, where they say the Charter is housed... you can't see the top unless you're on the top of a spire yourself.
Everything is sort of flat, so it's all these towers stretching up into the sky, like columns holding a ceiling up, or termite mounds.
[Mahdi those things are not remotely related.]
It's beautiful, but not very lively. I like it here lots better! [Yet this reminds him:] Have you ever seen the - what's it - um - the lights in the sky at night, where it's cold? The aura... or... of... a... thing?
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You've never heard of it? I don't think you can see it in the sky in New York. I've tried.
It's like rainbows, only at night. Shimmering lights.
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