[OPEN] So what's on your mind?

[lahire]

Who: Jack La Hire and You
What: Settling into yet another new home
When: Early November
Warning(s): In headers as needed

1. There's a piece of me that knows his name [The Oak and Iron]
There is a new face in town. Perhaps you might recognize him from your time in the Black Stag Casino. Perhaps you just have an eye for newcomers. Either way, here he is, sitting at a table alone with a meal he's barely touched, watching everything going on around him with the haunted eyes of a prisoner.


2. Every once in a while, he'll show his face [Out and About Town]
It has been decades since Jack has been allowed outside. While he's not literally kissing the grass in gratitude, he is lying on his ground, under a tree, staring up at the branches blankly with not a moment's care for how dirty his clothes (his casino dealer uniform) might be getting. Or for the fact that it is starting to rain.


3. And when he does I'll have something to say [Aces Wildcard]
[Find me on Discord or PM to plot.]

Comments

every once in a while, he’ll show his face (CW: referenced child abuse)

[agoodsupplyofbodybags]

When he sees the young man under the tree, in the rain…there’s something about his lack of response to the weather that reminds him eerily of John.

Not in a good way, either.

The motionless figure reminds him of the too tense boy who never flinched or faltered, excelling as a soldier because he excelled at doing as he was told.

He reminds Sam of John before he learned obedience and ‘doing as one is told’—that he could choose submission to authority over obeying because he would be beaten if he didn’t, and sometimes even if he did.

That boy hurt Sam. The man he became made Sam proud…and then Sam took part in hurting him again.

No more.

Moving out from the overhang of a tree with thicker branches, he walks calmly over to where the young man is laying, seemingly as unfazed as he by the rain.

“Wet clothes can be damn uncomfortable.” He calls out over the patter of rain drops. “Don’t suppose I could convince you to watch the rain somewhere drier? Maybe with a hot drink in hand?”

[lahire]

"I haven't been outside in a very long time. Please. Please, just give me a few minutes longer?"

Jack's eyes focus up at Sam, still as inky and dark as ever.

[agoodsupplyofbodybags]

"All I wanted was something to eat..."

It takes all Sam's strength not to rub his chest with the ache he fees--no, it's pain, flat out. This kid asking for just a few more minutes with the same pleading desperation in John's voice over the radio is more than any compassionate being can stand.

Sighing, Sam shifts to crouch beside the young man with nary a wince despite his knees protesting in the damp weather.

"I think I can do that--but I'd like to ask you to try something for me in exchange." he replies softly, gently. "Does that seem fair to you? Won't involve going indoors yet, I promise, and it won't hurt, either."

[lahire]

The look that Jack gives Sam is dull, empty, as if the promise of it not hurting doesn't really register. Or doesn't matter. It's a lie, or it isn't.

"What is it you want?"

2.

[abhorrently]

It's starting to rain.

It's been raining by the time someone else finds him, a late autumn storm of water dripping through branches and soaking the earth, and any recently transferred servants who happen to be lying on the ground. And Fever is filled with life and freedom, being out of that lodge, being in the middle of the rain. She feels invincible. She feels fantastic.

There's a man lying under a tree, and given that he's present, that means he's alive. A shame, because a strange dead body would be a rare find. But regardless...

His clothes set her at a strange unease. Why is he dressed like that? Why does he look like someone she glimpsed at that lodge? Only one way to find out.

"Are you all right?"

The standard question to ask, half hovering over someone's prone form.

[lahire]

"Not ill or injured."

That defines 'all right'...right? Maybe not. He doesn't answer her original question in the affirmative.

[abhorrently]

"Why are you on the ground, then? Sleeping?"

If he's not incapacitated, then she doesn't need to think about dragging him to one of the many physicians around.

[lahire]

"I was not allowed outside, where I was before. I have not been outside in...a long time." He isn't even going to offer a frame of reference here. But he definitely means before the Black Stag.

There's a piece of me

[when_a_grids_misaligned]

One of the patrons is alternating between eating the soup of the day (something tomatoey) and drawing in a sketchbook. This is not in itself noteworthy, although the way the outline of her form keeps blurring and glitching and the lighting that falls on her flickers out of sync with the lamps might be. If he ever got to see a television before or during his durance, the effect will be familiar.

After a few minutes of glancing between him and the page with less pencil motion every time, she picks up the soup bowl, stacks it on top of the sketchbook's cover, and seats herself at Jack's table. By way of greeting, she says, "I recognise you from the casino."

[lahire]

"That is likely to be the place people recognize me from, if at all." Jack does recognize the glitching, but seems confused by it--and by the Wyrdness about her overall. He squints, trying to make sense of her...everything.

"You...?"

2

[cacophonish]

Jeff flops down on the grass, right beside the stranger. He looks up at the tree, and the sky peeking out between the branches, clouds heavy with rain, then tilts his head to look at the man, eyes wide with curiosity.

"What are we looking at?"

[lahire]

"Nothing. We are feeling the cold ground and the wet grass and the rain." Jack exhales slowly. "We are enjoying being outside. Being...free?"

[cacophonish]

"Being free..." he repeats musingly, as though he's turning the very concept over in his head. It's certainly a sentiment he can get behind-- admire, even. The freedom to be, to thrive, to experience, it's everything, isn't it?

"You don't look like you just got out of prison," Jeff remarks. Then, with a little laugh, he adds, "Then again, the ground doesn't look like a bed, but here we are. I guess there's someone out there who can come up with a really smart saying about appearances and deception or whatever."

1.

[imjustaman]

Sephiroth sees that look and recognizes it and can't not stop to say something. "Are you alright?" He's a kind and caring person when sane, and although he's also introverted, he's been making a conscious effort to reach out to people.

[lahire]

"Probably? Maybe. I am not hurt. That makes me fine, right?" His level of certainty is kind of zero, right now.

[imjustaman]

That response doesn't sound the least bit fine. "You seem ... troubled," Sephiroth replies. "Is there anything I might be able to help you with?"

There's a piece of me that knows his name

[pineapplesalmon]

César knows that expression too well, having worn a lesser version of it himself until the last few weeks before he came here. That spurs him him into action.

He walks up to the table on the side of empty chairs, asking quietly for privacy. "I'm César. Would you like company?"

[lahire]

"I will not turn you away."

Which isn't an answer to the question asked, but Jack isn't yet to the point of knowing what he would like, what he would not, and what the difference feels like.

[pineapplesalmon]

It's an answer César understands, and so he sits down across from him and flags a waiter (that César greets by name) to get a pint of ale.

"Do you want conversation or companionable silence?" César figures simple questions are a good way to start, and something the other man can handle.

2

[stonecoldtop]

George is on his way home when he spots Jack lying on the ground, and while he looks uninjured and it's probably none of his business what the man does with a newfound ability to go outside, George still stops beside him to ask

"Excuse me, are you alright?"

[lahire]

“I am not injured or ill.” A precise answer, but an honest one. “You aren’t like the rest. You…something. There is something about you.”

Wyrd, but he doesn’t have the word.

[stonecoldtop]

"Something familiar?" George asks, sitting beside Jack. He's going to hate himself later for the work it takes to get the dirt out of his suit, but this is important. There isn't a Freehold here, no-one else he can call on to help that will understand in quite the same way.

There's a piece of me that knows his name

[lightconductor]

Watson comes into the Oak & Iron after closing up the clinic, as he so often does, for a drink and perhaps something to eat before he goes home for the evening. He makes his order at the bar, and then turns to go find a place to sit. He casts his eyes over the crowd, noting who's here at this moment, and is very astonished to see an unexpected face.

He crosses the room swiftly.

"You're here," he says. "When -- how -- no, forgive me." Watson passes a hand over his face. "I genuinely did not think we would meet again."

[lahire]

"Yes. I am here. Which, I am assured, is better than the possibility of Aster eating me." He doesn't sound as wholly certain of this as he should. "Good evening, John Watson."

[lightconductor]

"You are, at least, alive here. I certainly hope it proves to be the better option. Might I join you?"

A welcome, but also possibly a more productive conversation than the one they had had at the casino.

"Or would you prefer to eat alone?"