finalflight | OPEN POST; [ JAMES SUNDERLAND / SILENT HILL 2 ]

[Would it be so bad if he got pneumonia and died, really--

James swallows thickly. If he were more even-keeled, maybe he would have a more graceful preamble to start out with, but no, he just blurts out-]

My wife, I killed her. Mary was sick and I killed her. I took her body, put her in the backseat, and drove to Silent Hill.

[And then he went through hell.]

Then I... I drove my car into the lake with her body still in it. I almost thought to join her.

[ YES?? Ivan's been trying so hard this whole time not to get James killed. How much would it suck right now if he had to reap him?

But speaking of reaping... Ivan expected this, at some point. Maybe not quite this messy and desperate, and certainly not because the town nearly forced James down a path he'd narrowly avoided.

Ivan's expression softens, and there's a bit of the gentleness he normally reserves for the dead in his tone. ]

I know, James. I know.

[The way that this makes James finally tear his eyes away from the water, looking at Ivan instead. He looks— Well. Reasonably confused, searching his face. His white-knuckled grip still remains on the boat.]

What?

I said I know. What happened to your wife… I was there.

[ He watched it happen. He was there to pick her up when the life left her, and to take her away into whatever awaits afterward.

He was there when she slipped back into James’ car to tell him she’d wait for him. She always has been. ]

What?

[He repeats, uselessly. Color drains from his face, and the confusion makes way for a huge, suffocating wave of ugly, ugly feelings. Shame and guilt and hurt and disbelief.]

You were there?

[He knew this entire time? Fuck. James pushes off the side of the boat to twist his body to face him, making the little vessel sway in the lake. The frustration he experiences is unfair—especially since Ivan just saved him—but there's no rhyme or reason to the feelings that are churning in him right now, other than hot shame bolstering most of them. That Ivan was there during his most wretched moment feels like... It feels like a rotten piece of him that was on display without him even knowing it.]

Why didn't you say something?!

[ He expects the outrage, the sense of betrayal. He expected this would come up at some point.

He didn't expect that they'd be in a dinky little rowboat in the middle of a frigid lake when it happened. The boat rocks a little and Ivan braces for another swim in case things turned ugly. ]

How would that have gone over? You want me to put all the skeletons in your closet on full display when we've only just met?

Yes!

[The boat won't list over, even if it sways in the water, being a sturdy little craft despite its initial appearance. This is fortunate, because James lurches out to grasp at Ivan's shirt collar, pulling him in closer while he leans forward, too, heated and snappish. ~~now kiss~~]

This town kept the truth from me. [Or James deluded himself and Silent Hill pulled the truth from him. But he's not going to be gracious right now.] And I was dragged through hell until I could remember that I killed her. You think I want anything else hidden from me? Something like-

[But James isn't the kind of person who can stay this angry, and his guilt will always put out the fire of righteous indignation. He gasps a stuttering breath, and just like that, all the heat gone out of him. His whole body feels boneless, and he droops. His voice lowers.]

Something like that? That you already knew how awful I was?

Edited 2024-11-14 22:01 (UTC)

[ ~~they gotta level up the social link way more for that~~

For his part, Ivan sits there and takes it. He's not unused to this sort of treatment — not every soul goes quietly into the night, after all. A great number lash out for all sorts of reasons.

The fight goes out of James soon after, anyway. Ivan does feel bad over all this, but he still doesn't believe that telling James he knew about his wife would have been great for first meetings. Better to not bring it up until the man himself said something about it. ]

James... [ A sigh. ] Do you think I'm over here judging you? That's not my place. Besides, I have no room to call you awful when I'm just as bad.

[ If not worse but this isn't a contest. ]

[~~I'M TAPPING MY WATCH~~

The fight's gone completely out of him, yes. His fingers, curled into Ivan's collar still, are barely holding on.]

No, it's not that... I just...

[What, then? He knows what.]

I'm just ashamed of it. Of myself. That's all.

[It's simple as that. He doesn't deserve it, for anyone to think he's the good man that's he's been trying to be, kind and helpful, but it was nice for a time. To be just that.]

[ Ivan reaches up to take one of his arms gently by the wrist, easing his grip away from his collar. ]

I get it. [ Boy does he. There's definitely a reason the two of them have been shoved together on this journey. ] That sort of feeling... it never quite goes away.

[He allows it. No resistance at all from James, as though the well has dried up.

He scoffs despite himself. It's the kind of sound devoid of any real humor, though he can maybe understand, even now, that this is Ivan's way of empathizing.]

Comforting... that this hole in the heart will always be there.

[ Ivan goes ahead and eases both of James' hands away from him, then. Lets him settle into the boat properly before he takes up the oars, looking around for some sign of where they're supposed to go in all this fog.

He does cast a small, incredibly sad smile at James. ]

Do we deserve any less?

[It isn't a relief, he's not sure how long before that feeling seeps in again, but James' mind is more steadied. His guilt lies in the open, ugly thing that it is, and Ivan simply accepts it. No judgment, as he claims it's not his place; and maybe he realizes that James does plenty of that for himself.

His hands fall into his lap as he eases back and sits again in the boat. Ah, it's... cold.]

Probably not.

[A long, ragged exhale, and he finally lifts his gaze up. The fog is very thick, but there's the dark shadow of something in the distance. A building of some sort.]

Guess we keep moving. [Literally and figuratively.]

[ Reapers don't dole out judgement. They simply usher souls to wherever they're meant to go — and if that's somewhere judgement can be passed, that's not Ivan's problem. His job is over at that point.

But more than that, his own sins are right up there with James'. He couldn't judge the man even if he wanted to. They both did horrible things to and for the people they loved, both turned into monsters in their own right, and both left to live with that. ]

Guess so. We should get you out of the cold, anyway.

[ Surely nothing can go wrong by rowing toward the looming shadow in the fog. Let's do that! ]

[Surely not!

For what it's worth, it might be a lengthy distance, but nothing bad seems to be happening as Ivan rows. Just the fog parting for the little bow of the boat, gliding over the surface of the water as they approach.

James hugs himself with his arms.]

I don't know how well we're going to manage that, but maybe we'll find something that can dry me off.

[He glances around to see if maybe there's something that'd qualify in this boat, though the chances are slim. He finds, instead, a little duffel bag tucked close to the seat behind him.]

Hey, what's this?

[ If the cold is getting to Ivan, he doesn't show it. He's not so worried about catching his death out here, for obvious reasons.

A glance over as he rows. ]

What's what?

[He lifts up the bag, giving it a shake. It isn't full, and he places it in the middle of the boat to rifle through it. It'll give him a distraction for now, pushing aside all else for curiosity. You know James likes to stick his hands into weird things.]

Uh...

[He takes note of multiple small items. A writing pad, a pen. A blank envelope.]

A towel's too much to hope for.

[And then... that awful, crimson-covered, necromancy book from before. Looks like they can't easily be rid of some things here.

... ]

[ A duffel bag is probably the least weird thing in all of Silent Hill to stick your hand in, lets be real.

Ivan glances around occasionally to make sure they're still on-track to get to whatever's looming in the fog, but otherwise he watches James rifle through the contents of the bag. When the book comes out, he makes a face. ]

Of course. I'd tell you to throw it in the lake, but I imagine it will find us again somehow anyway.

[Yeah, he has experience.]

Probably. This town doesn't let anything go until...

[Until the person in question comes to terms with it. He just trails off, though; it probably doesn't need to be said.]

Yeah, I know.

[ Now that he understands more about what this town is about, it's methods are a bit more obvious. ]

Love being followed by my past, literally and metaphorically.

That's going to happen a lot. At least you don't have some-

[He bites back another shiver, stubbornly.]

-kind of executioner following you around.

[Yet. Not to tempt fate or anything.]

Don't put that out into the universe, James.

[ Ivan's version of Pyramid Head is probably something nobody wants to run into, ever. ]

Where are we headed?

[All the more reason for it to happen, right--]

The hotel. Where Mary and I spent our vacation once. And where I returned to learn the truth about... what I did.

[That looming shape through the fog, slowly growing larger as they approach. It's hard to make the details out, but it's surely big enough to be hotel-adjacent.]

OPEN POST; [ JAMES SUNDERLAND / SILENT HILL 2 ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject