Tim Laughlin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
holyposition) wrote2024-06-13 06:55 pm
holyposition) wrote2024-06-13 06:55 pm
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WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME:
t.laughlin
text ❖ audio ❖ video
WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME:
t.laughlin
text ❖ audio ❖ video
I worry for both. And probably more that I haven't thought to worry about.
It's too late for that, but thank you.
Why should you feel guilty?
Why should you feel guilty?
Should I not? My brother had barely lived past his fifteenth name day. Torn apart, there was not one piece left of him to bury.
Yet here I stand in this place, dead twice and reduced to mere pieces but able to tell the tale.
Yet here I stand in this place, dead twice and reduced to mere pieces but able to tell the tale.
Edited 2024-11-01 22:27 (UTC)
I'm sorry to hear that. I didnt know.
That isn't your fault, still. You didn't ask to be brought here, or to play this manor's sick games.
That isn't your fault, still. You didn't ask to be brought here, or to play this manor's sick games.
[It feels -- odd to have it out, like that. The knowledge of Koby's own participation (albeit by inaction) in two years of death and violence and carnage feels like a weight, like something he can't shrug off, no matter how he tries, like it'll follow him forever, clinging at his heels and hissing his name. He feels that shame now, thinks of his lofty attempts at being kind or strong or fair during this awful month, and how he'd done none of that on Alvida's ship. How he'd been too scared to breathe even a word of dissent.
Tim's arm lands warm and reassuring across his shoulders, and Koby turns in towards him, letting out a shuddery exhale as he does.] Then that's what we're doing now. Surviving. We can -- fix things when this is all over, you're right. [A stretch of peace, a break...it sounds pretty damn appealing right about now.]
Tim's arm lands warm and reassuring across his shoulders, and Koby turns in towards him, letting out a shuddery exhale as he does.] Then that's what we're doing now. Surviving. We can -- fix things when this is all over, you're right. [A stretch of peace, a break...it sounds pretty damn appealing right about now.]
I just heard about Hawk. I'm sorry, things have been -
[ he doesn't need to say it. tim knows how things have been all around. ]
Do you want company? Koby's
[ well. ]
He's going to be okay, but. I want to see you. If you can.
[ he doesn't need to say it. tim knows how things have been all around. ]
Do you want company? Koby's
[ well. ]
He's going to be okay, but. I want to see you. If you can.
I know.
[ That he's sorry, that he's scared for Koby, that the gut wrenching chaos never seems to end. ]
I've been at the graveyard. He'll need me when he gets up. But I could come in and warm up for a while.
[ That he's sorry, that he's scared for Koby, that the gut wrenching chaos never seems to end. ]
I've been at the graveyard. He'll need me when he gets up. But I could come in and warm up for a while.
It was established largely because people wanted a country where they could worship how they choose, so no, there's no official American version.
[ Tim settles in further, pulling a blanket over himself, and after a moment of thought, throws it wider over Aemond's legs, too. ]
You're planning on staying?
[ Tim settles in further, pulling a blanket over himself, and after a moment of thought, throws it wider over Aemond's legs, too. ]
You're planning on staying?
You should probably eat, too.
[ they both should, but it only calls back to one of their first moments together - quentin bringing food to hawk's bedside. is graveside any different in a place where people come back to life? ]
Where should I meet you?
[ they both should, but it only calls back to one of their first moments together - quentin bringing food to hawk's bedside. is graveside any different in a place where people come back to life? ]
Where should I meet you?
Probably.
[ The similarity isn't lost on him. Just like back then, he's not hungry, even though he knows Quentin's right. ]
I'll have to find a new room. Are you in yours? Or Koby’s?
[ The similarity isn't lost on him. Just like back then, he's not hungry, even though he knows Quentin's right. ]
I'll have to find a new room. Are you in yours? Or Koby’s?
[ Even as she levies her exclusion at him, she knows Tim does not think her less for being a woman (for being weak). He did not trust her with this — but he did with so much else. His role, Alia’s abilities, his conflicted heart. And yet it is impossible to look at the scar upon and his neck and not think of Alina, decrying how no one would take her side. Alicent has been the mad woman begging for justice, wild-eyed and desperate, as none listened. They did not care that her son’s eye was taken on Driftmark. Even her guard did not stand for her. None ever apologised to her or her son. They won’t.
That Tim apologises now is — a start. Miraculous, in truth, when her sons and councillors would not dare admit the guilt or regret an apology requires. The vile, hateful part of her wants to counter: You have not paid. Alina was attacked twice and lost her love. As if Tim’s singular encounter is any less of a horror for not repeating and spreading. When they compare their hurts, everyone suffers. That’s partly why Aemond spins himself in circles now, frustrated and exhausted. One hurt cannot not be repaid with another. The cycle would be endless. Pointless.
She will think this again and again as the killings persist in the coming weeks.
Now, she steps closer to him, her injured hand curled at her side while she raises the other to tip his chin to meet her gaze. The most motherly she has ever dared be with one older than her sons. ]
[ not unkindly, then — ] Forgiving you will be easier. [ Than believing it won’t happen again. I don’t know how to say no to him echoes in her mind. The affection she feels for him persists despite it. She would forgive him most things, after all he has done for her and her blood. It isn’t in his nature to harm or deceive; she knows that. ]
But we will find our way through this, Tim, like everything else.
That Tim apologises now is — a start. Miraculous, in truth, when her sons and councillors would not dare admit the guilt or regret an apology requires. The vile, hateful part of her wants to counter: You have not paid. Alina was attacked twice and lost her love. As if Tim’s singular encounter is any less of a horror for not repeating and spreading. When they compare their hurts, everyone suffers. That’s partly why Aemond spins himself in circles now, frustrated and exhausted. One hurt cannot not be repaid with another. The cycle would be endless. Pointless.
She will think this again and again as the killings persist in the coming weeks.
Now, she steps closer to him, her injured hand curled at her side while she raises the other to tip his chin to meet her gaze. The most motherly she has ever dared be with one older than her sons. ]
[ not unkindly, then — ] Forgiving you will be easier. [ Than believing it won’t happen again. I don’t know how to say no to him echoes in her mind. The affection she feels for him persists despite it. She would forgive him most things, after all he has done for her and her blood. It isn’t in his nature to harm or deceive; she knows that. ]
But we will find our way through this, Tim, like everything else.
[ a blanket thrown across his legs, and a warm weight against his side. it makes him stutter in his reading, indignation at the audacity warring with the sudden, piercing desire to be treated with this particular softness.
he never shared beds with his siblings when they were growing up. it did not seem proper, when the certainty of marriage between brother and sister remained hanging above their heads. ]
...I can stay.
[ and he does. he stays just long enough for tim to finally sleep, stays an hour longer to see if sleep would hold, and then carefully — quietly — leaves the warmth of the room and let another take watch over the man.
he tucks the sheets around tim's shoulders before he leaves. ]
he never shared beds with his siblings when they were growing up. it did not seem proper, when the certainty of marriage between brother and sister remained hanging above their heads. ]
...I can stay.
[ and he does. he stays just long enough for tim to finally sleep, stays an hour longer to see if sleep would hold, and then carefully — quietly — leaves the warmth of the room and let another take watch over the man.
he tucks the sheets around tim's shoulders before he leaves. ]
[ The likelihood that Tim would give himself the same grace if it were him is tragically low, but he knows Koby, knows him to be someone who tries his best at every turn to do the most good for the most people. Not every weakness is a mortal sin. Some situations are just impossible, like this one. This place. His arms squeeze around Koby tighter, his head leaning to rest on top of his, and recalls how even a few months ago, his heart raced so anxiously at such a small intimacy between friends. And now it’s normal, and good, and worth holding on for. ]
Just a few more days. And then...yeah. We’ll figure it out from there.
Just a few more days. And then...yeah. We’ll figure it out from there.
No, it’s okay. I did ask.
If the relationship was strong before the game, it can be mended. I had disagreements with people close to me, but we have to believe that the people we care about are doing the best they can, and in good faith.
If the relationship was strong before the game, it can be mended. I had disagreements with people close to me, but we have to believe that the people we care about are doing the best they can, and in good faith.
Mine.
[ is there a difference? his bed sheets smell like koby, there are some of koby's clothes strewn about, some scraps of papers and little maps and -
koby. everywhere, always. ]
You can stay with me if you need it.
[ is there a difference? his bed sheets smell like koby, there are some of koby's clothes strewn about, some scraps of papers and little maps and -
koby. everywhere, always. ]
You can stay with me if you need it.
Maybe for a few hours.
[ The nights he spends in a tent next to Hawk's grave, because he'll come back, and when he does, he won't be doing it cold and alone. Tim refuses to let that happen.
But, he's retained just enough sense to know he won't be of any help to him if he's hypothermic and starving, so visiting Quentin is a good enough occasion to remedy that. Tim creeps into his room with a light tap of his knuckles against the door jamb, looking pale and exhausted, weariness packed into the dark circles under his eyes, audible in his slow, shuffling walk. ]
Hi. How's Koby?
[ The raspiness in Tim's voice is gone, and the bruised ring around his neck faded light enough that only someone looking for it, or perhaps intimately familiar with his neck, would see it. ]
[ The nights he spends in a tent next to Hawk's grave, because he'll come back, and when he does, he won't be doing it cold and alone. Tim refuses to let that happen.
But, he's retained just enough sense to know he won't be of any help to him if he's hypothermic and starving, so visiting Quentin is a good enough occasion to remedy that. Tim creeps into his room with a light tap of his knuckles against the door jamb, looking pale and exhausted, weariness packed into the dark circles under his eyes, audible in his slow, shuffling walk. ]
Hi. How's Koby?
[ The raspiness in Tim's voice is gone, and the bruised ring around his neck faded light enough that only someone looking for it, or perhaps intimately familiar with his neck, would see it. ]
[ Well, Aemond being in A Mood can't be a sign of anything good, so he obeys, not especially eager to set him off even more before a contest of swords - it would be nice, if they could get through a party without anyone dying, for once. ]
Oh, sure. Thank you.
[ Some mild streak of concern in his face, noticeable even moreso with his glasses off and with Hawk for safekeeping. ]
What's going on?
Oh, sure. Thank you.
[ Some mild streak of concern in his face, noticeable even moreso with his glasses off and with Hawk for safekeeping. ]
What's going on?
Arms up to shoulders, for the laces.
[ he says laces but he's securing them like leashes, snug and firm against tim's surprisingly toned build. he's been keeping with his training, then. good. aemond did not spend weeks beating the soft out of him just for tim to slack the moment his lover had taken him back to his graces.
speaking of people who are not lovers— ]
Do you think yourself the jealous type?
[ he says laces but he's securing them like leashes, snug and firm against tim's surprisingly toned build. he's been keeping with his training, then. good. aemond did not spend weeks beating the soft out of him just for tim to slack the moment his lover had taken him back to his graces.
speaking of people who are not lovers— ]
Do you think yourself the jealous type?
[ He's been working out here for longer than he's been doing it with Aemond - pain in the body relieves pain in the mind, and there's been no shortage of it that needs to be soothed or temporarily forgotten. It's cathartic, purifying. If his arms look bigger for it, all the better. ]
That's a tough question. [ Tim sighs loudly, thinking. ] I can be. I try not to be, though. My situation is complicated right now, so I really have no right to be, but it's...hard, Hawk's taste being what it is.
[ The short answer. ]
Why do you ask?
That's a tough question. [ Tim sighs loudly, thinking. ] I can be. I try not to be, though. My situation is complicated right now, so I really have no right to be, but it's...hard, Hawk's taste being what it is.
[ The short answer. ]
Why do you ask?
[ there goes a really tight lacing at that question. ]
Pierce has his friends here now. [ can you hear the bitter anger in his voice as he says it? ] He invites me to meet with them. I've said yes, of course, it would be impolite to refuse.
[ aemond rests a firm, curling hand to the back of tim's neck. he doesn't mean to be threatening, but it's the only way he knows to externalise any emotion anymore. ]
Yet I do not wish to meet them at all.
Pierce has his friends here now. [ can you hear the bitter anger in his voice as he says it? ] He invites me to meet with them. I've said yes, of course, it would be impolite to refuse.
[ aemond rests a firm, curling hand to the back of tim's neck. he doesn't mean to be threatening, but it's the only way he knows to externalise any emotion anymore. ]
Yet I do not wish to meet them at all.
Edited 2024-11-10 03:40 (UTC)
[ Boy you brought it up... ]
Okay.
[ As he tries to puzzle out how this is a bad thing, he swats at Aemond's hand on the back of his neck. Tim's still jumpy about it, not yet a month out from near-death via strangulation. ]
Are these...regular friends, or intimate ones?
Okay.
[ As he tries to puzzle out how this is a bad thing, he swats at Aemond's hand on the back of his neck. Tim's still jumpy about it, not yet a month out from near-death via strangulation. ]
Are these...regular friends, or intimate ones?
I am not blind to the nature of this place. How lines cross and often between relations. You yourself have had some trouble with it, have you not?
[ not to put too fine a point to it, but this is why aemond is asking tim first. if anyone would understand, then tim would be at the top of aemond's list. ]
I would be a fool to think it would not happen, even if the chances for it are low in truth.
I should excise it from me, this feeling.
[ not to put too fine a point to it, but this is why aemond is asking tim first. if anyone would understand, then tim would be at the top of aemond's list. ]
I would be a fool to think it would not happen, even if the chances for it are low in truth.
I should excise it from me, this feeling.
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