It's one of his favorite shirts. It's gained the respect of being his "live in" shirt, or his "lazy" shirt: the thing he wears when he's in his room alone and doesn't plan on leaving it. It's one of the few things in his closet that has a hint of the kind of person he is; the rest are stoic, stylish coats and shirts most anyone could grab these days, things that sharpen the figure certainly but hold no character or depth.
Beyond his room he is Jack ******** Hawthorn, coffee addict and a*****e extraordinaire. He who is never wrong, always has a plan, and is damn annoying to put down in a fight or argument.
Inside his room, however, he is just Jack, a beanpole of a young man who raises his cup of coffee, tugs at his shirt, and toasts it with a stupid grin he'd never allow beyond the door. In the place he calls his palace only half-jokingly, it is quiet and still and stable. The little things are worth celebrating.
Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2014 12:27 am
In the first few days after his return from the Sahara, he enacts the same post-mission ritual he always does in front of the mirror: utterly naked, he traces every new mark and makes an inner incident report for each. Scar, two inches in length over supraorbital margin, shallow, Lina's blade. (Gone.) Compounding contusions around neck from unsuccessful asphyxiation, one from Peyton Creedy and one from Gale Gentry. (Gone.) Further contusions (1-2-3-4-5-6) six contusions, two broken bones (clavicle and ulna), six fractures, innumerable cuts. (Healed.) All that is left are the thin lines down his torso, arms, and legs, the remnants of what would have been a vivisection. And even those, he's sure, will soon be gone. Owain has become more adept at healing than most, and Jack is pleased.
But his partner still makes him keep old the mistakes: the broken nose and the deep scar at his hip. Things that infuriate him if he remembers they exist (and he never forgets).
When he looks in the mirror, he values perfection. Scars mean you weren't fast enough, smart enough, or lucky enough. People can use them as brands of heroism or badassery (he certainly tries to), but in the end they are evidence of a moment of weakness. And he is anything but weak.
One day these too will fade. One day they will simply be another memory he scratches off the list, and he will be perfect once more.
medigel
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Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2014 12:48 am
He is an intense man in many ways, and one of them is how he approaches new interests.
Within a week he has the full Twilight series in hardback. Reading about stupid vampires and stupid humans and stupid werewolves and their stupid drama while writing in the margins is unexpectedly fun. He laughs when Owain joins in, supplying a variety of overdramatic impressions for voices as they read back and forth. Scowls when Owain insists he keep taking Edward's line since he "has the right amount of churning teen angst to accurately portray Edward's brooding presence." Snickers as he plays the part up. It's a game to them of who is the best voice actor and who can keep a straight face the longest, and he is highly competitive.
But he knows in the back of his mind that this is a subtle prod from the giant. (Do you want to talk about it yet?) The answer is always No. And when it becomes too annoying (You need to talk about it—), he brings out one of the books Chance recommended and loudly reads about various mental diseases in important figures of history until Owain is quiet and compliant once more.
Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2014 11:40 pm
He used to drink just socially. Now he drinks to remember how to function normally.
He drinks with Ripley in order to relax long enough to make a decent impression and to catch a glimpse of the kind of man Finn's been occupied with. He drinks with Ian to forget old arguments and grudgingly welcome more change into his life, even if it does involve two homos being happy. He drinks with Finn and remembers what old times used to be like before s**t got thrown their way, when he'd smirk and curse as easily as people smile and say hello and let it mean just the same. He drinks with Chris and almost feels normal for a few hours, boasting and superior and so very noble to accompany him to this seedy establishment and bond over the violence of their jobs. He drinks with Abbi and lets himself grow childish and silly in a way that he feels almost comfortable with as they sass each other. He drinks with Chel because he doesn't know why. He doesn't drink with Hanna because he doesn't need alcohol to pretend.
He drinks by himself to handle what's in the mirror. A sexy ********, that's what. Piercing green eyes? ******** yeah. And how many people can pull off green hair? Not a lot, obviously, probably not even as many as a few. Nor could many guys pull long hair like him or even hope to. Maybe he should dye it back. She likes it apparently. Or maybe he should take his pretty face and smash it to the glass until it isn't so pretty, except he will be because he's just so damn good looking no matter what, like Jesus H. Christ, he'd gotten beaten within an inch of his life several times (twice in the same day), burned alive, cut open, and even left for ******** dead, and he still looked so damn fine, it was almost a sin.
(He can hear the challenge there and almost wants to see if there is any way to ruin perfection.)
He drinks heavily the longer he mulls it over.
medigel
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Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2014 11:04 am
He thinks about the vision in the Tower every time he starts to feel complacent. He doesn't know what the others saw there, and he's never thought to ask before. It feels too personal.
He remembers that he fought with Owain over what door to go through and how the Door of Reflection showed him that it was just the beginning. He remembers how all of his friends had been there with varying expressions of sorrow, glee, and anger, and how they ambushed and murdered him without a second thought because without him, whether in dreams or in reality, life is easier. He remembers his rise to become the Ancient of Control, how he brought the chaos of human will to heel, how he held true power in his hands and was a master of himself as well as of all creation. That part is his favorite to relive.
But he cannot stop thinking about the betrayal in that vision sometimes. He remembers how he was abandoned in the Saharan lair and left behind to die by his own teammates. He remembers crawling out of the underground chamber, nearly blind in the sun and completely naked to the elements save for what he stripped off corpses as he escaped. He remembers how he burned as he staggered and struggled to find the base again and cursed ever trusting people every step of the way. He remembers what Chris snarled at him in the rain: When you isolate and hurt people there's no one to come and help your pathetic a**.
That would be a problem if he had actually ever needed them.
But he thinks of Ian's sincere apologies and efforts to prove he's a friend, and he thinks of the letter left behind. He thinks of one of Finn's better smiles as they jam out and how he went out of his way to find a WonderPark survivor for him to interview. He thinks of the way Abbi hangs on his words at the bar like they're a legend she can dissect. He thinks of Chel's smile when—
He thinks of the word "Hallowlesbians." He thinks of Ian and Shiloh's impending wedding (there's never really been a doubt to him). He thinks of how they had tried to fend off the horsemen in the tower, of his dramatic entrance. He thinks of how he abandoned them to save himself. He thinks about the video games and the drinks and the words and the touching. He remembers he was abandoned by someone who used to care about him and who had never given up on others before. He thinks of Chris' enthusiastic competition and subsequent snarls. He remembers the sounds of sizzling flesh and Finn's screams. He remembers the dull look in her eyes when she asks: Why?
He has many problems, not the least of which is that people are starting to matter again. He drinks to forget, but all he can do is remember.
Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2014 7:24 pm
By the magnanimous use of of his apparently God given chrono-cosmological powers, that night is allowed to exist again. He relives what he can remember of it in the safety of his head and in the much more immediate comfort of his bed.
medigel
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Posted: Wed Oct 08, 2014 12:23 am
He considers the faded bruises, the nearly dislocated jaw, and the gauze patches hiding it all; the scars that are gone, the thin gap in his right brow from one and sketches in his limbs that are nothing but memory now; Chel's blood on his hands, once, twice, leaving stained skin as he washes it all off; the photosensitivity that has yet to leave his eyes.
Even together, it isn't ugly enough. Green marks on his skin, spaces where scars once were, none of it is enough. He punches the spot Chris favored and howls, but even the rush of color doesn't diminish his ******** sexy looks.
He knows what will, but he loathes it just as much as he fears it.
Violence is always the better answer anyway.
Posted: Mon Oct 13, 2014 11:20 pm
It hits him—after the fights, the shouted insults, the blood, the broken glass, the accusations, the bruises, the stoic looks he sees in their eyes, the seething rage he knows is in his, the suddenly rock hard bed, and the itching and irritating thoughts skin deep and bone dry—that the only thing he’s ever wanted to hear is, It’s okay to feel like that. Not it's wrong or you're pathetic and should let it go, he already knows that. Just it’s okay. Like some ******** p***y.
But seeking validation is for lesser species. The only person who has the key to what he wants is himself, and if he feels like gouging himself with it instead then, god damn it, he will, and anyone else’s opinion about that is as desirable as intestinal worms. His key doesn’t unlock chests anyway: its purpose is to create holes, not fit in them.
The Zoolander posters become unexpectedly welcome targets.
medigel
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Posted: Tue Oct 14, 2014 9:39 pm
twitter dm 10/14
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) Did I break your fingers?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) You really think glass is enough Creedy? I'm not your pride, I don't break that easily.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) It looked like they bent backwards. I was curious.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) And you make for poor idle chitchat. Come to say anything of actual interest?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) I couldn't just be concerned for your well being?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) What kind of ******** question is that. LOL Creedy we've been through this already, so get to the point. You don't contact me unless you want something from me.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) You were very disappointing, Jack.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) No s**t, I don't do hand to hand combat. Anything else?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) It's not just that. I really had thought we were more evenly matched. We used to be.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Did you seriously come to gloat and reminisce on Twitter of all things? I got the message loud and clear in our last fight. We were never evenly anything Creedy.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) This isn't gloating, Jack. You're supposed to be stronger than this. What happened to all that strength I felt wrapped around my throat?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Oh but I thought you were above all that? Something about never going down to my level?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) Where you're at now is pretty ******** low. You don't seem quite yourself anymore.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) And you're such a great judge of character. What's it to you now? What do you want?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) I want you to get stronger.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Oh I will sweetheart but it won't be for your sake.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) I should hope not.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Is there a point to you telling me any of this? I'm just dying to know.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) We never talk anymore, it makes me sad.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Oh god. Have you ******** your boyfriend yet? Are you really this deprived of social contact?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) Why, jealous? I know you hate when I cheat on you with other Lifer.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) More curious about if he knows you as well as I do. Is he at least as fun as me or are you starting to get disappointed in your Life choices yet?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) How well do you think you know me, Jack? And he's very fun. No complaints.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) I know enough to know that if he hasn't ******** you yet that he's missing out.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) And what makes you think this me is that similar to the one that was with you in that dream?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) I've seen what's in your eyes Creedy. That much didn't change.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) And what did you see?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) A monster waiting to happen.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) What do you see in your own eyes, when you look in the mirror?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) What do you see hmm? Only fair to ask.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) A monster.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Bingo. None of this is news though. I'm fine with what I see in the mirror. Are you?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) I don't know.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) You should probably do something about that.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) Like what?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Your problem Creedy, not mine. But if you end up having difficulties, you know where to find me.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) Get stronger, Jack.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Worry about your own ******** up life.
Posted: Wed Oct 15, 2014 8:17 pm
twitter dm 10/15
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) Do your friends know what you are?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Oh no are you going to tattle on me. What will I ever do. "Jack is an awful person just thought you should know."
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) No. I just wanted to know if you hid it from them
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Nope. Are you seriously still harping on this?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) No what. No they don't know, or no they don't care?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Oh my god nobody gives a s**t Creedy. Why do you?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) I just do.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Figure your own s**t out and stop trying to get mine.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) Thought you'd offered to help, Jack.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Yeah, with your stupid s**t if you're so lost. Not mine. Don't bug me again unless you're willing to do something about it.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) And what the ******** am I supposed to do about it?
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Jesus. Ask yourself what do you want with it Creedy. Feed it, ignore it, or control it?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) Control.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Then say it for me Creedy. Say you need my help.
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) You're ******** enjoying this. a*****e. I need your help.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) You need my help with what?
Peyton Creedy (@Halfpintpunch) Controlling this s**t.
Jack Hawthorn (@goodonesargon) Excellent. Let me know when you're ready.
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