☠ Black Roses And Hail Mary’s [open]
Who: Xerxes Break, Gilbert Nightray and whoever stumbles across them?.
When: During the Darkness, not long after Break arrived in the Port.
Where: Gilbert's apartment.
Summary: Gilbert came to help Break after he collapsed on arriving to the Port. His Chain has always been a strain to him and so soon after resting from the last time he used it has taken its toll on Break.
Warnings: Death. Blood. Emotional stress and Horror.
Faint and fading, fast in and out of consciousness, sinking softly into the plush fabric of the couch Gilbert had carefully sat Break down upon. There was warmth in the comfort there, from having been in the arms of a companion after nothing but obsidian frigidness. Stale smoke, fresh coffee and that iron and copper smell of old gun powder -yes, this was Gilbert's apartment alright, there was no mistake in it. Break was slowly letting himself be pulled down and dissolved into the murkiness his almost sightless eye was intent on dragging him into. Breathing shallow, the pain buried like a casket just below his chest as Mad Hatter raged with its control softly slipping through Break's hands, he'd tried to fight it for so long now and he'd finally failed...but this time? he had no other plan.
Break had always put on that open happiness, he wore it like a loose summer dress over pain no man should ever know, keeping that faux smile on his lips as you would apply a bandage over a wounded place, for Break didn't do too much genuine smiling these days. Coughing, finally a small moment of consciousness as he doubled over where he sat, he was a stubborn man, one who claimed only to live for himself, one who never thought he would easily die just by pretending to be strong. "Raven, don't waste your lips on words I've heard a thousand times before, you know I understand the implications of using my Chain and- " Pausing to cough once more.
..... Blood.
Gasping for breath as he fell back against the head rest of that chair, his ashen bangs drawing like a curtains fall to leave that closed and empty left eye socket in full view as well as his right. Sighing heavily as if bored of this sensation. "I don't want to hear it, I'd rather just a cup of tea and ..... perhaps ....." Hanging his head, it was fast becoming a taxing task to simply talk.
When: During the Darkness, not long after Break arrived in the Port.
Where: Gilbert's apartment.
Summary: Gilbert came to help Break after he collapsed on arriving to the Port. His Chain has always been a strain to him and so soon after resting from the last time he used it has taken its toll on Break.
Warnings: Death. Blood. Emotional stress and Horror.
Faint and fading, fast in and out of consciousness, sinking softly into the plush fabric of the couch Gilbert had carefully sat Break down upon. There was warmth in the comfort there, from having been in the arms of a companion after nothing but obsidian frigidness. Stale smoke, fresh coffee and that iron and copper smell of old gun powder -yes, this was Gilbert's apartment alright, there was no mistake in it. Break was slowly letting himself be pulled down and dissolved into the murkiness his almost sightless eye was intent on dragging him into. Breathing shallow, the pain buried like a casket just below his chest as Mad Hatter raged with its control softly slipping through Break's hands, he'd tried to fight it for so long now and he'd finally failed...but this time? he had no other plan.
Break had always put on that open happiness, he wore it like a loose summer dress over pain no man should ever know, keeping that faux smile on his lips as you would apply a bandage over a wounded place, for Break didn't do too much genuine smiling these days. Coughing, finally a small moment of consciousness as he doubled over where he sat, he was a stubborn man, one who claimed only to live for himself, one who never thought he would easily die just by pretending to be strong. "Raven, don't waste your lips on words I've heard a thousand times before, you know I understand the implications of using my Chain and- " Pausing to cough once more.
..... Blood.
Gasping for breath as he fell back against the head rest of that chair, his ashen bangs drawing like a curtains fall to leave that closed and empty left eye socket in full view as well as his right. Sighing heavily as if bored of this sensation. "I don't want to hear it, I'd rather just a cup of tea and ..... perhaps ....." Hanging his head, it was fast becoming a taxing task to simply talk.