In spite of all your love, you fear what I've become | OTA

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Who: Leon S. Kennedy (nothingbadeverhappensto) and anyone who dares intervene
What: Leon's No Good Horrible Very Bad Month comes to a head, in the wake of revisiting all his worst nightmares
When: Mid-November, throughout the day
Where: Around downtown, the Oak and Iron, in an alley near the Oak and Iron
Warnings: Alcohol abuse, emeto/nausea, disordered eating, allusions to cannibalism, possibly other references to the Fear event in threads

I. That shadow on your mind [ On Patrol, Downtown ][ OTA ]

[ CW: disordered eating, nausea ]

Leon is... okay.

He rolls out of bed in the morning before the sunrise (barely slept, again), brushes his teeth, and hesitates in the kitchen for a moment (stomach turning at the mere thought of checking the icebox) before deciding to skip breakfast (again) and go for a run. He's tired, but he's pushed through worse. The exercise helps clear his head, at least, and he does a lap around the neighborhood, taking some solace in seeing the occasional light on in his neighbors' houses (there are still people there, he's not alone) before returning home to take a shower and get dressed for work.

Throughout the day, he can be found on his regular patrol route around downtown Pumpkin Hollow, having resumed his old routine as opposed to burying himself in case files all day like he had been before... all of that. It's good to get out, after all. It's good to see how people are recovering. His uniform is neatly pressed and he makes an effort to smile and nod to passers-by, stopping by anyone who looks confused or concerned or otherwise in need of assistance that a constable or neighbor can provide.

(One could be forgiven for missing the sleeplessness in his eyes, or the slight tremor to his hands from the hunger pangs. But it's fine. He's fine.)

II. It's growing all the time [ The Oak and Iron ][ OTA ]

[ CW: disordered eating, nausea, allusions to cannibalism, alcohol abuse ]

The day wears on, and per his usual habits Leon finishes his shift and heads to the Oak and Iron for a hot meal and a stiff drink.

Or a stiff drink, at least. The moment he walks in the door he's met with the smell of cooked pork (not what he thought it was, at first) and nearly turns around and walks back out, but it's fine. He's a big boy, he can handle it. It's fine. Powering through the way his mouth waters unpleasantly at the scent (sick and hungry, both at once), he takes a seat at the table furthest from the kitchen and orders a glass of whiskey.

"...Leave the bottle," he says to the barmaid after thinking it over for a moment, passing her the extra brass and a hefty tip. The first glass he knocks back quickly, and the second, but from the third onwards at least he nurses them more slowly. (Not quite savoring the taste, but trying to make it last, self-conscious about the temptation to just slam the whole bottle and see if that drowns any of it out.)

Over the course of the evening, the bottle empties steadily. Leon, notably, does not order food at any point, but he does wind up with a second bottle somewhere along the line. As it drains, too, he slumps lower and lower until his head is resting on the table, idly swirling the dregs at the bottom of his glass, watching the amber liquid slosh back and forth with an exhausted expression. (Seems even despite all that, he can't sleep.)

III. If this is killing me, you can't be the one to tell me [ An alleyway, near the Oak and Iron ][ OTA ]

[ CW: emeto, allusions to cannibalism, and NPC (temporary) death, alcohol abuse, disordered eating ]

It's somewhere around closing time when one of the barmaids, assuming Leon is unconscious from the way he's sprawled face down on the table, reaches out to shake him by the shoulder and tell him it's time to leave. He jolts upright, hand flying to grab for a missing weapon in a shoulder holster that he isn't wearing, and stares up at her, wild-eyed -

- and recognizes her. Remembers her. Watching her run from him in the woods by the Leeds Estate, warped and twisted as they were, and she was too slow to outpace him by far, so easily caught and crushed in his claws and her blood and flesh and bone marrow was so much sweeter than anything he'd previously imagined -

Leon flips the table over in his hurry to get out from behind it as he watches the recognition dawn on her face as well, pale and afraid. He tries to apologize, to say he's sorry, but he chokes on the words and bolts for the door, nearly bowling over another patron as they try to leave. Breaking into a dead sprint, he makes it down a nearby alleyway before the situation (the hunger, the disgust) catches up with him. He collapses to his knees, retching bile and whiskey onto the cobblestones as he tries to forget the taste of blood, blood, blood.

(Leon is not okay.)

IV. I just want you to know, I finally can let this go [ Wildcard ]
[ Need something else? Feel free to DM me at quodvide on Discord or PM this journal!! Note that some timesoup will apply to all threads just so no one is locked out of getting through to Leon if they tag earlier in the day.]

Comments

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"Thanks," says Leon, trying to muster the enthusiasm to sound properly grateful and falling a little short, landing on listless instead. He sets his empty shot glass aside and takes a sip of water. "And - yeah, I am. Not that I've been anybody much good as one, lately."

He flinches immediately after saying it, feeling weird and bad about kicking off the conversation by wallowing in self-pity. Sighing, he shakes Dr. Harvey's hand.

"...Sorry. My name's Leon Kennedy. It's good to meet you. And, uh, condolences, about your timing. Hell of an introduction to the place."

[drharvey]

James' smile tightens at the corners when the younger man says what he does, empathetically. There's a little flutter that presses against an aching spot inside of him, the place that keeps insisting he's not able to do enough to really help.

"Oh no, please, nothing to be sorry about." He shakes his head as he draws his hand back, letting his fingertips rest on the table surface. "And if there's one thing I've learned about this place already, it's that it doesn't make things easy on anyone. God, I can't imagine trying to maintain law and order around here when the rules seem so... wild."

Words circling back around to Leon's claim about not doing anybody much good lately, James gives a soft exhale as he continues— "Sounds like a lot of responsibility."

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"Yeah," Leon agrees, weakly. "I mean - when things are going well here they go really well. Most disputes that don't involve demons or whatever get settled with the constables barely having to get involved, if they have to at all. It's a small town. People try to get along."

The incoming caveat hangs heavy in the air as Leon takes another drink, thankfully sticking to the water for now.

"But when they go badly, it's just - what am I supposed to do? I'm some jackass with a gun, and that's been barely enough to get myself out of trouble back home, much less here. You can't just shoot whatever it was that could turn the whole island into a nightmare like that."

[drharvey]

James gives an understanding frown at the question, reaching up to run a hand back through locks of thick bang and letting it fall back into his eyes for a moment. It's followed by a soft, thoughtful sigh — "I get it. Not that I have any police experience, but— ...the whole 'What can I really do to help?' thing. This place has been humbling in ah, all the worst ways."

He chuckles with a soft, rasping sound, humourless, but then his expression softens again. Thoughtful in a different way as he takes in the young man with the weight of so much on his shoulders, looking so worn and heavy.

"I tell you what I think, though. Having someone like you around — seeing someone like you around? It does something. It helps. Makes people feel secure inbetween those moments none of us can really do anything to stop the bad stuff. I think it matters a lot to have a guy like you in this town."

He tips his head to a nod, and he means it. Knowing there's some active law and order, people keeping an eye on things? "I know I feel a lot safer for it."