Week Five

[stagemanagers]

[Last week, you had your very first minor body pileup! Granted, the Balladeer's death was entirely unrelated to anything, but at least he died as he lived - getting completely fucked up in some kind of carnival-themed hellscape. Only two days later, another terrible accident took Rina and Varian both from you. It's just been one of those weeks, huh? At least you got to add both of their corpses to your weird growing collection!

Again, you'll wake up this morning with another new snippet of memory. You'll also find that the stairs in the lobby are no longer blocked. You can only access one part of the second floor, but it seems like there's some neat stuff up there!

Outside, a few things seem to have changed. For one, the weather has turned - it'll be overcast this week, with periodic rain and even scattered thunderstorms. For another, the bushes around that rock out by the football field have bloomed. That's nice.

Get to it, friends! I'm sure everything will be fine this week!]


Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

(( Be sure to submit your memory regain and your AC for this week! As always, Hester's office hours and the merch booth remain available. ))

Comments

[barberic]

I wouldn't call it working, necessarily. That would imply there's something to be gained from it other than keeping my right hook in shape for the Wizard.

[He pushes back his sweaty hair from his face, taking a deep breath to steady his breathing.]

What brings you here?

[violentenvies]

I will be very much looking forward to watching that right hook connect, then.

[a little levity, of course]

As for me...I was on my way to the locker room, but I heard someone in here and came to investigate.

[he glances at Benjamin's knuckles, frowning a little, looking worried]

...as much as I am looking forward to your attack on the Wizard...perhaps it would be best to suspend that for today, my friend? You look like you could use some patching up.

[barberic]

[When Antonio mentions his knuckles, Benjamin lifts his hand and turns it over.

This close, the knobs of his knuckles are clearly dry and split from the friction against the leather, but the damage is fairly superficial, barely any fresh blood welling up to replace the blood smeared across his knuckles and the punching bag.

Still, the sight of the blood on his knuckles reminds him of the feeling, the sound of Higgins' face shattering beneath his punches. Somehow, Benjamin goes even paler.

Someone replies:]

Perhaps so.

[But he doesn't seem to be aware that it was him.]

[violentenvies]

[Benjamin looks down at his knuckles, his focus seeming to go a bit distant for a moment--and Salieri reaches out to gently set a hand on his arm, the barest of touches to get his attention]

Why don't you come with me, and I'll use some of that emergency supplies we've stored in the locker room to get that all cleaned up for you?

[barberic]

[Benjamin snaps back into the now at the gentle touch on his arm, looks at Antonio as if he'd forgotten he was there for a moment, and then nods.]

I was going to... bathe when I was done, anyway. That was where I was going to next.

[He takes a towel and wipes the blood off of the punching bag, then picks up the change of clothes that he had with him and follows Antonio, meek as a lamb.]

[violentenvies]

[Once Benjamin's wiped down that bag, Salieri will tuck his hand into the crook of the other man's elbow and lead him gently to the locker room, easing him down onto one of the benches]

There--I'll be right back with the kit.

[barberic]

[Benjamin sits obediently, rubbing the thumb of one hand over the wounded knuckles of the other absently, sometimes digging his nail into the valleys between his knuckles just to feel something.

When Antonio returns, Benjamin can't hold it in any longer.]

...I've taken a life, Antonio.

[violentenvies]

[and Salieri freezes for a moment, very much not expecting that.

A moment later, though, he moves to sit on the bench next to him, setting out the supplies, and reaching for his hand, batting Benjamin's own hand away as he tries to make his wounds worse]

Stop that. Weren't you ever told not to pick at your scabs?

[he huffs a bit and reaches for the antiseptic wipes, tearing them open with his teeth before gently starting to clean the area. He'll work in silence a moment, before he asks, calm as anything:]

And who was it, then?

[barberic]

[He looks up at his friend, when Antonio reaches to smack his hands apart, like he's about to ask 'didn't you hear me?' before he's struck dumb by the fact that Antonio could hear that and still...want to help him.

He's silent as well, aside from a hiss of pain when the antiseptic first makes contact with the wound. Antonio's hands are soft and delicate next to his, his fingers long and nimble and unscarred. Benjamin's feel the size of bin lids in comparison, broad and callused in ways he can remember being confused by when he first woke up in the academy, ways that make all too much sense, now.]

...It was a man. Daniel O'Higgins. I knew him when he was a starving scrap of a thing, took pity on him and paid him fifteen shillings a week to sweep hair off the floor of my shop.

He recognized me, when I came back to London. Tried to blackmail me.

[violentenvies]

[Salieri listens, quietly.

Then, in response, into the still air of the locker room]

...well. He should've known better than to do a thing like that. [his voice is still that quiet calm]

[barberic]

[That's. Not the answer Benjamin was expecting.

In fact it's so unexpected, that he snorts, a hard scoff of air through his nose.]

...Suppose he should've.

[Then, after another moment.]

I nearly killed the Judge, as well.

[The Judge's crimes, being obvious. But with the low menace with which he growls the title, perhaps there's more than before, as well.]

[violentenvies]

[That'll get Salieri's attention, and he glances up at Benjamin, arching an eyebrow as he starts to wrap a clean bandage around his knuckles]

Nearly? What happened?

[barberic]

I had him.
His throat was bare beneath my hand-

[He sucks in a breath and breaks the rushing sound of blood in his ears. The snarl in his voice doesn't change, but the mania snaps before it carries him away.]

A sailor boy found Johanna in the Judge's house. He wanted to rescue her, but he- The idiot barged in to tell me when I had the son of a bitch right there--!

[violentenvies]

[Salieri's mouth presses into a line at that, finishing the wrapping on one of Benjamin's hands and tying it, before reaching for his other hand]

Of all the damnable luck. [he blows out a breath as he reaches for another antiseptic wipe] I'm sorry, Benjamin.

[barberic]

[Benjamin wordlessly lets Antonio take his other hand, staying silent for the sake of mastering his own emotions again while Antonio begins to clean the knuckles of his other hand.]

Hester gave me a photograph, of Johanna as she looks now. She looks... beautiful. The spitting image of her mother. I thought... I thought that meant that she was well taken care of. That she was loved...

[His next words are filled with disgust.]

And oh, she was, but not in the way that any father wants to hear. Do you want to know why the Judge sought out the services of a barber?

[violentenvies]

[Salieri stills at that, his hand tightening briefly on Benjamin's, dread starting to curl in his stomach]

....why.

[barberic]

To make her more amenable to his proposal.

[His voice is low. Dark. He knows Antonio is from a similar enough time to himself, that he doesn't have to explain further.]

With Lucy beyond his reach for ever, and Johanna blossoming into a beautiful young lady under his own care...

1/3

[violentenvies]

He what?! [Salieri's head jerks up at that, staring at Benjamin with confirmed horror and fury.] That-- [his hand is tight on Benjamin's for a moment as he struggles to reign in the rage that threatens to overtake him. He wishes somewhere, distantly, that it was more surprising. That this disgusting, foul man, already sick with power, could push that even further.

But he knows what men in power are like.]

2/3

[violentenvies]

[After all, he is one himself.]

3/3

[violentenvies]

[Salieri sucks in a breath, gently setting Benjamin's hand down]

Wait here.

[and then he's moving to stand] I'll return in a moment.

[barberic]

[The rage, he expects. They are alike, after all; and Antonio has only ever been furious, at everything that's happened to Benjamin, everything that he's remembered. The only question he expects is 'how did you not immediately kill him?' (and he doesn't have an answer for that because there's no answer that will satisfy him, either, only excuses).

He doesn't expect Antonio to gently set his hand back in his lap and then get up.]

Oh- of course.

[And so with nothing better to do, he simply sits there and waits.]

apparently this somehow went to my 3/3 above and not to your comment so now, in the right place...

[violentenvies]

[he won't be too long. Just a step out into the hall, to the lockers to retrieve what he needs.

When he does he's returning with what should be a very familiar leather sleeve, rolled to contain some very familiar blades.

Salieri approaches, and moves to sit again]

...I was hoping to give these back to you with more fanfare, but I'm afraid this will have to do.

[and he holds them out to Benjamin]

no problem!

[barberic]

[Benjamin doesn't have to remember how he got them back to know them by sight.

"I remember these- And you!"

His hand reaches out to take the sleeve from Antonio, setting it in his lap and unrolling the sleeve over his knees.

The silver gleams at him, and for a moment there's only a shrill scream in his ears, like a factory whistle, there's blood on his hands, there's curly, greasy hair clenched in his fist and the pressure of a finely sharpened blade slicing through flesh like butter--]

...Thank you.

[He takes one of the razors out and turns it over in his hand, the swooping vines and tiny, intricate details of the chased silver handles catching the harsh light of the locker room. To say the weight of it in his hand was familiar would be doing a disservice to the word 'familiar' - it felt like home, like an oath. Like an old friend. The silver is warm in his hand, as warm as if he'd barely set it down, instead of it being missing for weeks.

He looks at Antonio, then, as if he'd just remembered he was there, and then smiles.]

I believe I owe you a proper shave, my friend.

[violentenvies]

[Salieri watches Benjamin take hold of his tools with a neutral calm--and when his friend looks up, he hesitates a moment, before meeting his eyes]

Thank you. However, before that...[his brow furrows]...you have told me of something you have done, and what you almost accomplished. Therefore...I feel it only fair to share something of my own memories.

[barberic]

[...Right. These spectres of memory are not Benjamin's alone to bear. A frown furrows slightly in the center of his brow, and he sets the blade back down in its case, emptying his hand so he can reach over and cover Antonio's hand with his own.]

Of course. By all means, Antonio.