Jacob Kane [ Cain ] (
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tushanshu_logs2015-08-18 02:31 pm
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used to care, but times have changed. [ catch-all ]
Who When Where What Warn | "Jacob Kane" (Cain) & You Catch-all for the rest of August Various places in Keeliai Cain reacclimatizes to life on a a turtle floating through the Dreaming. Basically just make something up and I bet you Cain is there somewhere. The thread with Gene delves into imagery of torture and child abuse. (If you could take a moment, consider filling this out!) |
However, now he found himself staying at and working at the Hotel however temporarily until he got his feet truly underneath him. That was good, a simple task to keep an eye on people and make himself comfortable again. Working with the Metalworkers on his own projects kept the rest of the time occupied. The vast majority of Cain's free time, however, was spent exploring the city and feeling out the atmosphere, talking to kedan and foreigners alike. He had cleaned himself up and changed his wardrobe just enough to look older than his usual early-twenties for a change of pace. Usually, this wasn't the sort of thing Cain would care about; usually, this was the sort of bed the city could make and lie in all on its own for the denial of taking responsibility they'd dragged in themselves; usually, he wasn't stuck here forced to be a part of it with a bunch of others who were in much the same situation.
Usually, it sucked to have a sense of responsibility for those he felt close to.
Most of his days consisted of hitting up local businesses, making himself known to the locals as someone helpful and harmless and getting whatever gossip he could. Cain checked in on the few friends he had, and looked to make any more to improve his own situation. It never hurt to make use of a specifically positive image, after all. He might as well have a bit of fun with it.
or SUPER nutso, one of the two
He was grateful and frustrated by that at the same time. It felt like he should have more practice or control at dealing with this, alone or not, but that wasn't how it worked. Not with something like this, not with something as unpredictable as a mind overflowing with memories good, bad and buried. Sometimes it could be combated, sometimes it just took over so completely that he wasn't even cognizant enough to fight. He was somewhere between that right now, still unable to find his footing.
"It's on me," he said, watching in quiet fear and faint disassociation as the scalpel sliced through his body along lines they'd sharpied onto his skin that had yet to fade. Like some kind of horrific ziploc bag; reseal it and save the rest for later when you wanted more.
why not both?
Luckily, it was a slightly off hour, and there were many open tables. Gene found one where the other man would have his back to the wall and led him there. At least it was quieter in here, less overwhelming than it was outside. That was a double-edged sword: it took away some of the stimulation, but at the same time the quiet environment made it easier to focus on the phantoms inside one's own head.
is it possible to be both at once?
Seated, it changed some of his perspective. He could finally sit back and look at himself to try and dissuade the mental image that superimposed over his senses. He wasn't cut up, nor falling apart, nor in any kind of physical duress despite the signals his mind was sending out. His hand came to press protectively against his heart and he tried to simply sit and breathe. Sift through what he was feeling and what he was actually experiencing.
I don't see why not
Gene watched him, his own hands folded on the table, shaking off the specter of his own past by breathing deeply and focusing on what was real, trying to tell himself five truths. My name is Temujin. I am in Keeliai. I am twenty years old. I have been here for three years. He cannot hurt me anymore.
He reached up for his neck and tugged down on the necklace underneath his shirt, as though to remind himself it was still there. He wouldn't count the rings now, but if the string was still there the rings would be too. He almost missed Kane pressing against his chest; not the right place for his heart. Was he remembering an injury he'd taken, or something else?
then let us also be SUPER... up later than we probably should be
He just wanted a reprieve.
It was more isolated here, more difficult to find things to focus on that weren't internal. He scrabbled around until he latched onto something, anything, to use to hold him upright in the storm. "Who's Iroh?"
can't be tamed! CAN'T BE TAMED!
How true was that, really? How true could that possibly be when the shade of Zhang still lurked behind his actions, tainting every bit of his brain with its presence? Zhang hadn't been summoned to Keeliai, but that didn't mean that part of him hadn't come along for the ride.
The question seemed to startle Gene from his brief, troubled reverie. "One of the Foreigners. He'd been here for a while, but recently disappeared. I don't know if you knew Zuko, but he was Zuko's uncle."
can kind of be tamed
"Didn't know him," Cain said. He was going to fix that this time around. Meet as many foreigners as he could, figure out where he could place himself to be useful. It was the closest thing he had to friends, family, anyone related to him that he could hold on to. People displaced just like him. Without other people, there wasn't really a point to Cain's existence, was there?
NEVER GIVE UP, NEVER SURRENDER
A kedan waiter came to take their order, and Gene put in for two of the house blends. It didn't really matter what the blend was, really, just so long it gave them something to occupy their senses.
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Cain wasn't sure he wanted to think like that, but it was an easy rabbit trail to follow. More and more people disappearing, maybe not getting as fortunate as him to return where they could do some good, right when they could use all the help they could get. This whole island was in trouble, even the turtle itself, and here they were just sitting in a cafe and talking.
Well, talking might have been overestimating it. Neither of them were being particularly verbose and Cain still felt like something was broken, wrong, like it should have been written all over his face. It wasn't, he knew it wasn't, but his feelings couldn't be budged. When Gene ordered for them both, Cain just nodded and still avoided eye contact. Looking up meant looking back; all he wanted was to not have to look at all.
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The peril they were all in - the Chihuelans, the sinking turtle, and all the rest of it - didn't escape Gene, but since coming to Keeliai he'd stopped worrying quite so much about things he couldn't do anything about yet. Better to prepare and take respite when he could.
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It wasn't anything special, but there were some people here and there (white coats, cold hands, some of them were talking and Cain could hear the make-believe murmur like it was still happening) and he wondered. They all had their own problems. Would they even begin to guess what it was like for a foreigner in their city, taking all of their own baggage and then being forced to carry some of theirs, too? These weren't his usual thoughts. It usually didn't bother him; life was as tough as it was great, and sometimes that toughness just piled all together and you weathered through it or died trying.
He just couldn't get it out of his head right now.
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"Why are people still coming?" Wasn't the whole idea to be a help against Malicant where the kedan couldn't do it on their own? With their adversary gone and the kedan obviously hoping to have their own independence in one way or another... "They could stop the spell. Couldn't they?"
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The waiter returned, and in good time as well. Cain took the cup almost before it touched the table and put his hands around it, then brought it up to his lips. It helped wash away the scent of blood sticking to his nostrils, the feeling of cold spreading through his fingers that wasn't really there. He drank slowly, deep and invested in the motion.
"No students, or anyone else involved in the maintenance of the spell?" he asked once he had had a moment to let it sink in. If one didn't keep notes, then there were other ways of retaining information and passing it down. Apprentices or confidantes.
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He mirrored Cain's slow intake of the tea, letting it engage all his senses. It really was a magical drink.
"Not that we're aware of. Seems Eshai did it all herself, and when she died, Eva took over and kept it running."
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Cain set the cup down in thought, picked it back up and drank more before he hunched somewhat in his chair to look into the liquid. He saw blood pooled inside, but the scent that reached his nose told him differently, the heat in his hands radiating too much warmth to be from inside of him. He closed his eyes just long enough to try and push the image away.
"Now that Eva's gone as well, there isn't anyone, and there are no records, either," he said slow, musing. "It would be starting all over from scratch."