[Introduction: Jack Benjamin] Escape from the living death

[true_n_the_dark]

[Spoiler (click to open)]He'd done it. Jack had asked his own father to kill him, to order his execution. Thomasina had said, "Your father wants for you a living death, to brick you into a wall with someone who loves you - who you can't stand the sight of... until you produce an heir, which Silas will take, and raise right this time

Comments

[friendlyabyss]

Non can be found in the library, book in his lap, as he reads with the air of a scholar. It's one of his favorites, Frankenstein, and he can't help but smile as he nearly reaches the climactic scene.

[true_n_the_dark]

At this very point, it`s a drift more than anything else. Bored with the other areas, Jack wanders into the library, which he has no intention of perusing.

He's convinced that either he's gone insane (in which case nothing matters), or he's in hell (in which case, things can't get worse.)

Hence the staring into nothingness while sitting nearby.

Because he can.

[friendlyabyss]

No Jack. If you were in Hell (at least Non's Hell), you'd be well taken care of. The Count hated when suicides wound up in his Sphere, mostly because he didn't think they really deserved to be there. So, he put them to work in his own palace, making sure the lesser demons and Fallen left them more or less alone.

Until they got too irritating. What? He's not a saint.

Non returns to his book after a quick glance, turning a page. "Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change," he says, loudly enough to be heard. And yet, nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose." Yes, he's quoting the book. Why not?

[true_n_the_dark]

Jack's face twist into an unhappy smirk.

"Didn't know I was attending a public reading."

He stands, ready to leave.

He can't deal with any of this right now.

[ichbinzillah]

Zillah may be organizing her lesson plans in the common room--there's enough space in there for her messy arrangement of papers, thankfully.

She's a little frazzled (the beginning of the year always does this to her!), so she's willing to be interrupted. Maybe she needs a break.

[true_n_the_dark]

Aaaaaand by the time Zillah is in Jack's vicinity, guess what? He is horribly, horribly hung over.

And so there will be a rather gloomy and doomy fellow walking through the common room. He may have passed out on a couch somewhere, or in whatever room he's been assigned by his rescuer, but now he's so very thirsty, it's not even funny.

So he's wandering in, with a carton of milk. Not even bothering with a glass.

He might glance at her expanse of paperwork on his way, and even forget himself, and stop to stare.

[ichbinzillah]

She looks up a moment, sighing, and perhaps catches a glance of him.

"Uh, hi," she says, sitting up a little. "Why the milk?"

[true_n_the_dark]

"Why not?" His tone is unfriendly, as if to say, what's it to you? Which is exactly what Jack intends.

He's not in any need of being friendly, doesn't feel like he even should bother with nicenesses, and makes it quite clear.

[4am_dreamer]

Ann will be around the hallways, carrying a stack of various magazines. Of course she may not look where she's going and bump into the newcomer...

[true_n_the_dark]

Bumping indeed happens, and Jack essentially barks at her.

"It's not hard to look where you're going."

[4am_dreamer]

Meanwhile Ann is trying to pick up all the magazines she dropped.

"Listen, I'm really fucking sorry. I must have been too distracted."

[true_n_the_dark]

"You look it."

He happens to have stepped on one of the magazines, unintentionally.

He however makes no attempt to move.

As requested! Will send a Saetan shortly!

[chromaggia_diva]

It might be a few days after his arrival, in passing by the doors to the ballroom, that the young prince might hear the voice, singing, a woman's soprano, floating out like a breath of perfume or a silk scarf on a breeze, singing an old song, made new by so many different voices over the years. In a place like this, it might have an angelic or at this time of the year, a ghostly quality to it, echoing through these halls...

[true_n_the_dark]

Well, this place is just weird, Jack will have you know. If he wanders towards Mag, it might be out of boredom. His response to distress is to hide in drinking, in license, but there's a moment where one's body can take no more, and he's getting close to it.

As it happens, the room where Stark and McCoy decked him out is very close to the ballroom, and while we agree that Mag's voice is lovely, to Jack, it's just something that's getting in the way of his rest.

And so...

".... I'm sorry, would you mind toning it down?"

[chromaggia_diva]

The singing will stop momentarily and the woman in dark garb will look up. "Oh, was I disturbing you?" she asks, apologetically. "I was practicing one of the songs for a concert I have been planning, but I can stop and do it at another time or in another room."

[true_n_the_dark]

He would love to reply something helpfully snarky, but instead...

"... Oh god I'm going to be sick."

He has to lean against the door because he's feeling a bad bout of nausea.

Oh, Mag, we're so sorry.

As promised!

[blackjewelmale]

Some night, perhaps when he's on a liquor run into the kitchen, he might hear an uneven set of footsteps in the shadows, coming into the kitchen. "Hope you don't mind the company: I was on my way in here," says a rich, mellow voice, clearly belonging to an older man. And if he turns, he might find a tallish, dark man, his black hair silvered at the temples and his face that of a well-preserved man in his early sixties, his black vest unbuttoned and his grey silk shirt sleeves rolled above his wrists. He'll stand paused in the doorway, his weight shifted to one foot.

[true_n_the_dark]

For just a very split second, Jack startles, almost expecting Silas. Of course, it's a split second's mistake, born of his own obsession.

"It's a public place," he replies on a neutral tone.

He's not imbibed yet - in fact, he's just opening his very fist beer.

[OOC: I just realized that finding out Saetan's name might lead to some drama - also be warned that being associated with Silas is not the best thing ever. At least he's sober - it'd be worse if Jack were already drunk. >.<]

[blackjewelmale]

A Silas+Saetan cagefight is something this typist would love to see, but it would probably be the world's shortest bout ever.

"True, though I did not wish to seem as though I were sneaking up on you," he says. Then eying the young landen's beer, he adds, "I was seeling a drink myself: would you mind having the company of an old man?"

No worries: Saetan's used people having strange reactions to his name.

[true_n_the_dark]

Jack is so not used to having this kind of respect from his elders (he was a source of shame, a pawn, a plan B, but never a son or a nephew, not really), that he just stares back at Saetan.

"... what do you want?"

Because he can't just possibly be offering friendly company. It's just not done.