kim jae hyun. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
boomvox) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
multiversallogs2012-01-15 06:23 am
boomvox) wrote in multiversallogs2012-01-15 06:23 am
Entry tags:
baby i have been here before
Who: Jae & Ilde.
What: Jae returns from confronting Hilmi, and has to deal with some things he didn't expect to.
Where: His apartment in Creekside.
When: Immediately following this log.
Notes: THE PARADE OF EMOTIONAL HORRORS CONTINUES.
Warnings: Discussions of rape, suicide, death, Apocalypse-verse flavored tragedy, torture, mental health issues (post-traumatic stress). LOTS OF SADNESS.
For a while, he's fine.
For a while, he isn't himself.
Indulging in this much magic is like no drug Jae's ever been on, and the adrenaline is tailored - precise, clean, detached. He hasn't accomplished what he set out to do, but he's taught someone a lesson (just like the deserved to be-), and they deeply fucking needed it. Now he knows what that thing is; he's felt its power and its magic and he can find out how to stop it. That's just how it's going to be.
Jae makes it all the way to Megan's neighborhood before his head finally comes back down to earth.
He stops short, not quite on her street yet - he looks down at his hands. There's blood on them, smeared awkwardly and mostly dried, and he's suddenly cognizant of the tightness on his face and the too-sharp stiff feeling of air hitting split skin on his face. Oh god. Oh god oh god-
What the fuck is he doing? Walking to Megan's house like he's done some great thing, where did Hilmi even go? What has he done - marching through the district, blood-covered, bruised, head held high and gaze frosted over, like some good little soldier, his school teachers would be so proud -
His school teachers. In Osaka, in the programs. He remembers it. He knows they'd be proud because he remembers this, too, every second ticking by of that magic that feels like black alien grease in his head and in his throat, that he's never, never used before - before -
He didn't remember it last time. Last time, at the facility. He used the same magic, tonight, that he used then.
And he remembers everything.
Jae throws up in a public trash can. Someone passing by takes pity on him and helps get him shuffled into a cab - one of the enchanted ones, and the little driver, delicate and glowing just faintly, asks him if he's all right and calls him sweetheart and he can't say anything besides hollowly telling her his address; he doesn't want to talk to her, even look at her, because no one should be taking pity on him or being kind to him, not after he did that. His head swims, he pays her - too much, and he ignores her to flee into his building, staggering up the stairs (doors slamming in his wake, he doesn't hear it at all) instead of waiting for the lift. His hands shake unlocking his apartment door, he locks it behind him, and it's not until he's in the bathroom doorway, staring in at the bright white tile, eyes shot, face bruised, split, bleeding, keys still in one hand, that he remembers someone else is supposed to be there.
For a while, he isn't himself.
Indulging in this much magic is like no drug Jae's ever been on, and the adrenaline is tailored - precise, clean, detached. He hasn't accomplished what he set out to do, but he's taught someone a lesson (just like the deserved to be-), and they deeply fucking needed it. Now he knows what that thing is; he's felt its power and its magic and he can find out how to stop it. That's just how it's going to be.
Jae makes it all the way to Megan's neighborhood before his head finally comes back down to earth.
He stops short, not quite on her street yet - he looks down at his hands. There's blood on them, smeared awkwardly and mostly dried, and he's suddenly cognizant of the tightness on his face and the too-sharp stiff feeling of air hitting split skin on his face. Oh god. Oh god oh god-
What the fuck is he doing? Walking to Megan's house like he's done some great thing, where did Hilmi even go? What has he done - marching through the district, blood-covered, bruised, head held high and gaze frosted over, like some good little soldier, his school teachers would be so proud -
His school teachers. In Osaka, in the programs. He remembers it. He knows they'd be proud because he remembers this, too, every second ticking by of that magic that feels like black alien grease in his head and in his throat, that he's never, never used before - before -
He didn't remember it last time. Last time, at the facility. He used the same magic, tonight, that he used then.
And he remembers everything.
Jae throws up in a public trash can. Someone passing by takes pity on him and helps get him shuffled into a cab - one of the enchanted ones, and the little driver, delicate and glowing just faintly, asks him if he's all right and calls him sweetheart and he can't say anything besides hollowly telling her his address; he doesn't want to talk to her, even look at her, because no one should be taking pity on him or being kind to him, not after he did that. His head swims, he pays her - too much, and he ignores her to flee into his building, staggering up the stairs (doors slamming in his wake, he doesn't hear it at all) instead of waiting for the lift. His hands shake unlocking his apartment door, he locks it behind him, and it's not until he's in the bathroom doorway, staring in at the bright white tile, eyes shot, face bruised, split, bleeding, keys still in one hand, that he remembers someone else is supposed to be there.