tampered | Log: Ongoing

Log: Ongoing

When; Day after sensory depletion day
Rating; PG?
Characters; Frederick Abberline (

noh_dancer)
Summary; TBA
Log;

Chain smoking was not considered a positive thing, but it helped one's nerves - and Frederick's nerves were shot to hell. It didn't seem to be bad enough that Scarab had been out looking for him when she'd been attacked, but now she was intent on getting back at it, and he was incapable of assisting. He had nothing to offer in a fight against a supernatural force - he could aim a gun and dissect a mystery and that was the extent of his skill. His visions were only of use if anyone actually listened to him... and they did not. 'Don't go outside, I've seen premonitions of your brutal rape and murder' had no effect, apparently. It was no wonder she was seeking out more formidable allies.

He did not want to mope about such things, truly. It made him feel pathetic and weak, and it wasn't how he wanted to conduct himself. So trapped between those sides, he ended up just shutting down on himself, becoming cold and detached while his mind tried to decide what to do.

That was why he was seated at the open windowsill, on his second pack of the day. He'd caught himself several times thinking about how the dead could escape this place and go on with their afterlives - but perhaps he already was in hell. Nothing new, he thought wryly, memory flitting to and fro, It's not like I haven't been there before.

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Scarab opened the door to Frederick's apartement quietly, and slipped in.

She was tired. Mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, but this was something that needed to be sorted out now, not left to fester and always be just under the surface.

She didn't understand why he was so afraid for her. True she had been brutally attacked, but she was no worse off now than she had been when she first arrived.
Besides, that wasn't his fault? Scarab had been the one to ignore the warning and go out looking for him, and he acted like he himself had been the one to crucify her on rebar!

She found him in the bedroom, and silently slipped in, then shut the door and leaned agianst it.

No bathroom lock-ins today. If she had to sit on him, he would stay here and talk to her.

"Hi.."

She crossed the room, and sat down opposite him on the sill, jacked a cigarrette, and lit it.

" ...Talk to me Frederick...what's going on?"

She was tired of tiptoing around things, and even more tired of this game of obvious attraction that both were trying to pseudo-hide.

Her presence was expected, both anticipated and dreaded. The Talk was going to be forced out of him. Bloody fucking hell, he hadn't had The Talk since he'd asked Victoria to marry him. Goddamnit all to hell. Even with Mary it had been less talking and more viciously erotic groping in a disgusting alley at night.

Damn.

He squashed out yet another fallen cigarette and lit another, greeting her with a tired smile, and then continuing to look out the window quietly, trying to come up with some sort of reply. What's going on, indeed. It was such a staggeringly vast question that he didn't know where to begin. He was sure, one hundred percent positive, that is own tale of woe paled and was beautiful and joyous compared to probably a large chunk of the current population and that he was dead to rights nothing special, but the whole matter had become such sacred ground to him that it was difficult as fuck to get over.

He took a long drag and exhaled slowly, and then quietly said the one thing that, in his mind, summed everything up. It might have been stupid to open with such a line, and he knew that, but it was the bare truth and he might as well get it out and in the open.

"I miss my wife."

...And the truth shall set you free....

She couldn't honestly say the confession didn't sting a little, but she kept up her blank face... didn't even bat an eyelash.
Instead she switched her ciggarette to her right hand, to hold it a little awkwardly between ring-finger and pinky.

She made no move to touch him just yet, but wanted the ability to do so.

Maybe his life wasn't as bad as a lot of those here...but it was his life, and he had to live it...to carry those memories. Pain isn't something that can be measured on a scale, it's something only the person feeling it can judge to be too much or too little.

Keico understood this, despite the fact Scarab seemed not to.

There were days she missed Seico...and yes even Daniel.. so badly it hurt to breath. They were fewer and further between, now. Especially here, but they were by no means gone.

"...Can you tell me about her?..."

She didn't want to push it, but sometimes you have to bleed a little to let the wound close properly.

The question set off all of his instinctive defenses, and he tensed slightly, but didn't show it, just taking another drag. He didn't want to talk about Victoria. She was something, someone, that in this place, was completely his. Keeping her memory locked inside him was like keeping her alive, keeping her with him. He could love Mary and he could feel this for Scarab, but he would never, ever stop being hopelessly in love with his wife. He would never stop being haunted by what their life could have been like and what their son would have looked like.

He tried to say something several times, and then was quiet for some time.

"We were married very young," he said at last, looking outside, "because we couldn't keep away from each other. We were just so in love, always. I knew the day I met her that she'd be only woman who'd ever turn my head and my heart like that. It never dulled, it never faded or became mundane, it was just perfect."

He stopped to get another cigarette. There was an odd tone to his voice, as if he was intentionally keeping it flat and clinical, even though his words were intimate. "She became pregnant. It was the happiest time we'd ever shared, knowing we were going to have a family. But she died having the baby. Something.. I don't know what went wrong, really. I did at some time, I think, but it ... the baby died as well, our son. I was twenty five."

~~Scarab~~ Keico remained silent through his explanation.
It sounded like a classic love story until he came to the end.

She took a thoughtful draw off of her cigarette and looked out over the darkened city. It reminded her of Kyoto...of home.
She felt an odd mix of emotion. Guilt for the flash of jealousy she felt for the other woman, and an empathy that stemmed from her own mirrored past.
She had loved once....a long time ago, it seemed now, but not to the same depth of feeling.

She envied him.

Flicking ash out the window, she kept her eyes studiously downcaste when he spoke of loosing both wife and child in a single stroke.
Idly the thought that she was now chemically sterilized flitted through her mind, but she didn't dwell.

Keico would never be capable of carrying on a semblance of a normal life. She would never marry, never settle down, and never have children.

" Frederick..." It was all she could think to say, but hoped also the tender tones of her voice communicated the words that wouldn't come.

"...Frederick, I'm sorry."
Shifting enough to out out her cigarette, she leaned her head agianst the sill and watched his profile blur. Tears?

Shit..

She blinked a few times, and managed to keep her hair between them. Hopefully he hadn't noticed.

" Look....I'm not really good at this sort of thing, but I want you to know; I like you. Maybe even more than like....I don't have a word for it so I can't really tell."

She cleared her throat , and continued.

" But...I understand. I understand that some things, no matter how much time is meant to heal, will never change."

That had been downright painful to force past the squeezing sensation in her chest...but she meant it.

Maybe it was time to resign herself to the thought that he would always run from her, no matter how long she pursued..

He was quiet for a long time, slowly burning down the cigarette he had instead of going through it as quickly as the others. He felt less tense now that he'd gotten it out, but it was still uncomfortable.

Frederick gave a feeble glance up and a forced smile - he really did appreciate her words, but how to express that appreciation escaped him.

"It was odd, the time that seemed to heal it also made it worse. I met a woman... at the worst possible time, really. A prostitute. During the Ripper case - she was supposed to be one of his victims, the last victim. The records all show she died - brutally. I lied to save her. And never saw her again, because if I did, she'd just be killed anyway."

He laughed then, shaking his head. "I don't know why any of this even matters. I suppose I want you to know why I'm completely unable to even cope with having affection for a woman anymore. Everything I know about it tells me to give up now because it'll end in death or worse."

Something about 'giving up' hit her wrong.

" Oh, you know this, huh?"
She turned to look at him straight on, feeling an irrational anger replace the squeezing sensation in her chest.

" Well, I'm already dead, and you don't get much worse than what happend." She bit out.
" But in case you haven't noticed, I'm still here."

Sighing with frustration she stood from the window sill to pace. Three steps one way, turn, and three steps back.

...When a thought struck her.

Jesus...he blames himself for that whole pyramid head thing! THATS what this is about...He thinks he's some kind of walking catastrophy!

It made her pause, and turn to face him.

" Well, I suppose we're both screwed, because if you want to use our respective track records as proof of what's to come: you should have been killed already, too.

...But here I am, and here you are." Having this wierd-ass conversation

Keico sighed, and rubbed her temple, then regarded him.
Some of the anger went out of her.

He was damaged goods, no doubt about it....but then agian so was she.

Steeling her courage in case he should somehow take this wrong, she didn't say another word.

Instead she leaned down and kissed him fiercely, fisting her hands into his shirt front to ensure he wouldn't be able to back away.

If he pushed her off, well she would have her answer. He wouldn't be able to let go of the guilt no matter what she said.

If not...well...she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

The selfish part of his brain wanted to snap at her that maybe he wasn't entirely talking about the other party - it was no pleasure cruise to lose everyone that ever meant anything to him. He might not be able to cope with another tragedy - yes, she was 'alive', she was still there, leaving and endless eternity of horrors to befall them both. Instead he let her pace, knowing he'd only fuck things over further if he opened his mouth.

When she kissed him, he dropped his cigarette out the window in surprise. It was - something. He didn't know what to feel. Victoria so present in his mind he nearly shoved her away, feeling like he was somehow cheating. It was too sudden, but he didn't push her back. He knew she was from a different time, had lead such a fast, volatile life - and he made the choice not to punish them both for their difference.

Frederick brought his hands up to her face, gently, and returned her kiss, softly and slowly, countering her. After a moment, he wrapped one arm around her, and pulled her gently into his lap, and then leaned away, breaking their kiss. He shifted, and brought one hand to stroke her cheek. It doesn't need to be like this, he thought. You don't need to prove anything in that way.

Now it was her turn not to know what to do.

Tenderness...that caught her off gaurd, and made her blink at him with more than a little confusion.

"I'm sorry.." it slipped out before she could mentally censor it, and even to her it sounded small and unsure.

"I...I just wanted you to snap out of it."

That sounded like a confession. And what's more it sounded less like Scarab-the-ice-cold assasin than she had herself in years.
What the hell was wrong with her?

There were too many confusing things swirling in her head for her to make sense of this reaction.
Anger, she could deal with. Rejection, while painful, she could deal with. Even a fervant response, she could deal with.

But not this...this was new, and new scared her. New meant there was nothing to fall back on, and no way to gauge how things were going to proceed.

" I..I can't be sorry that I went to look for you. I just can't."
Hesitantly, as though the simple gesture would prove to be too difficult, she pushed a lock of his hair back from his face.

" But, I won't be stupid like that agian. I promise...I promise I'll listen to you next time. "

She swallowed the strangling sensation of her fight-or-flight reflex being completely side-stepped.

" Just don't give up on me?"

"It's all right," he said softly, running his fingers through her hair in a calming way. He didn't think she knew how to react to him - he wasn't going to demand anything from her sexually, physically. He wasn't like that, and even if he'd ben in the right mood for that sort of thing, he thought he would have stopped himself anyway. It was clear that sort of reaction would have been the wrong course.

"You'd never be who I'd give up on," he whispered, placing a kiss on her temple. "I'd would have let go of myself."

Keico offerred a half-smile and leaned foreward to rest her head on his shoulder.

This is becoming my favorite place to be... she thought with an internal tinge of self-mockery.

She sighed. How did he do that? How was it he could see right through her & know when to fight, when to run, and when to do something totally unexpected.

" I told you I was no good at these sorts of things. My sensitivity meter has been too badly damaged by past incidents."

She wrapped her own arms around his waist and settled close. Usually she felt like a child when sitting in a man's lap, but Frederick didn't have much more than three or four inches on her, so the closeness they achieved in this simple act was quickly turning into her ultimate comfort.
It was a little scary to feel so at ease with another person...but she liked the comfortable intimacy and the fact he didn't expect more of her because of it.

She nuzzled his neck a little in comfort when he made the comment about giving up.

" Afraid not, Frederick...I don't want you to give up on me, but I won't allow you to give up on yourself."

He chuckled softly, and then slipped one arm behind her shoulders, and the other under her knees, then stood. He was only barely larger than her, but he could still carry her easily ... even now with all her blood and parts put back in properly - but he crushed that thought instantly.

Sitting on his bed, he layed back, holding her close. He didn't move to kiss her, or touch her in any other way - just held her. He was tired, after all that, and even if she wasn't, it was far more comfortable than the window.

"I'm no good either," he said finally, pushing her strands of dark hair around her face. "You'll have to use the kid gloves. I'm too old for this." He laughed a bit, tucking one arm behind his head. "I'm eight-six, really."

She ended up half on top of him when he settled back, but it didn't really faze her.

As long as he didn't care, she wouldn't either.

She made a soft noise in the back of her throat at the petting. Something between a hum and a purr.
Although she raised an eyebrow at the revelation.

" Really?.."

Keico shifted just enough to prop herself up on one elbow and study his face a bit more closely.

He certainly didn't look it...

" I was about a month shy of my twentieth birthday when I came here.....so I suppose I'm still nineteen?"

"Jesus Christ," Frederick swore, but not particularly violently. He frowned a bit at her and sat up halfway, studying her closely. "You look older. Gods.. no, I'm really that old. The City's reincarnated me during the Ripper case, because the City is nice and cheerful that way, which puts me about ... forty-five." He paused. "Still too bloody old for you, even if I am well preserved, as Godley put it." He flopped back on the mattress, but didn't remove his hands from her.

She blinked in confusion.

Hang on...After all the shit we've waded through...

Then the blank look melted into a smirking glare.

" You are not, and what does age have to do with it anyway? Have I suddenly changed into a completely different person in the last few minutes? Because you were fine with me before."

She poked him sharply in the stomach to illustrate her point.
Keico did take note that he hadn't completly stopped touching her, so while he was bothered, it didn't seem to be enough to cause a major difference.

" I was recruited when I was a kid. I told you that."

Abberline made a face and folded in on himself when poked. "Mmph.." he flailed useless at her. No poking. Poking was bad. "I didn't say it changed anything. Just saying you're a completely perverted young girl, going after a geriatric like me." His voice took on a vaguely theatrical aloof edge. "But as long as you're square with that I suppose I'll go along."

"Perverted?!" She echoed in mock outrage.

That does it.

She sat up, and quickly used a simple trick of martial leverage to sit astride him.
Each of his hands now pinned under her knees, she mercilessly started tickling him.

"I'll show you perverted!" She declared, mischieviously laughing at the look on his face.

Frederick made a brief noise of surprise, but then wiggled slightly, getting one hand out, squirming to try and escape the purely evil fingers attacking him - and then dumping Keico over on her side, switching their positions and pinning her hands above her head. He might not be an expert at martial arts, but he'd grappled enough criminals in his life to get out of just about any hold.

"Yes," he said, shifting so he wasn't squishing her, "Very perverted indeed, look now where you've gotten me - clever girl."

Keico narrowed her eyes at him and debated the wisdom of using her feet to break the pin.
If he thought this was perverted, he hadn't seen anything yet.

But..she thought better of it, and instead kept 'the kid gloves' on by pushing with her arms.
True, she was fairly petite, but years of intensive combat and martial arts training did give her more than a nice figure.

"Yes, all part of my master plan.." she quipped while trying to move him.

She even managed to do a sort of reverse pushup and raise him about 6 inches off of her before the awkward weight balance won out, leaving her breathing a little heavily at the exertion.

" There should be alchohol involved somewhere in this mix, though, curses!"
The sarcasm was followed by her sticking out her toungue at him.

"Well that's too bloody bad," Frederick said lightly, placing a quick kiss to her lips before rolling off of her. "I only have absinthe and I'm not in the mood."

He found himself once more on his side, head propped up by one hand. He'd ignored the distinctively sexual movements of moments before; again, that wasn't his aim ... he felt it wouldn't be for some time.

"Find anything of use in the library?"

Keico couldn't help the lingering smile.

Her master plan had worked: he was no longer so deathly morose.

He moved to lay next to her, but she stayed on her back, and stretched her arms above her head with only a tiny wince of pain.
Her sternum would ache now occasionally.
Most people would blame the weather, but in this place who could tell what kinds of changes caused it?

Settling back with a midly frustrated sigh, she toyed with the fingers on his free hand.
She was growing more and more fond of idle touch, and though she flirted, and sometimes even badgered for more, was extremely pleased that such small signs of intimacy did not mean more was expected.

...It was just easier to think about the demon when being tactiley reminded that it was all behind her now, and that Frederick was within arm's reach.

" Yes. Not what I was hoping to find, but I figured there was a slim chance that the library would have some forgotten book listing his weaknesses and possible means of killing him outright."

She turned his hand palm up and started to write little words with her fingertip.
This one was kanji for 'to hurt'.

" He was human once, but the books I found disagree on just what exactly happened to make him what he is now.

One said he started out as an american Civil War-era executioner, and the other that he worked with this bizarre cult."

She finished 'hurt', and started 'warm'.

" The first book describes him as some kind of embodiement of male aggression, and likes to rape his victims."

Thank any god that is listening that he wasn't in the mood I guess...

" The other says he is the 'executioner' aspect of a sort of warped trinity. Alessa being the judge, and theres no real solid answer on who the jury is."

She sighed agian, and looked at Frederick.
" I did find out that he was brought here because Alessa uses him as a gaurd, and that he figures into some kind of prophecy, though..."

Frederick made a thoughtful noise, allowing his hand to be taken a gentle prisoner, listening to her report.

"He was created by Kaen, or so I've learned," he said, going over what he knew about Pyramid Head in his mind, "Taken out of the mind of one of the men from its own universe. It was killed once, but came back - not in the fashion that you did," - his voice has a forced-calm quality then- "but it seemed to simply re-appear elsewhere, a completely different incarnation. It's possible that it was initially just a copy, an interpretation, and now it's the 'real' thing."

He was quiet for a long moment, wondering now if he should have offered her some absinthe anyway.

"Did it..." he stopped. He forced himself to meet her eyes, feeling something insane, impossible mix of terror and rage tightening in his chest as the potential occurred to him fully. "Did it rape you?"

Keico held his gaze, and took full possession of his hand before answering.

"No. No, it didn't....it's ok..."

She offerred a small smile of reassurance, and a gentle squeeze to his hand.
She doubted very much if she would be here just now if that had been the case, and had indeed sat in the library in tears while reading about some of the thing's more colorful exploits.

" I know she was going to reward it with someone..or rather something else, though." She confessed quietly.
She could remember the last remaining shards of that little bitch's thoughts scraping through her fading consciousness after the monstrosity had literally thrown her onto the support bars.
In all her life Scarab had never known what it was to truly hate someone. To actually want to watch them hurt, and to cry and bleed.

She hated Alessa.
That hate was larger, by far, than the fear of somehow meeting the Pyramid Head agian.

The tension in his chest didn't dissipate. What would be worse? He wrapped one arm around her, and again kissed her temple, half-snuggling close. He didn't like the idea of that thing being rewarded. He didn't like the idea of Alessa. To know he'd spoken with her... it made him sick. He wondered if one of the supernatural higher beings about the City might not just blast the both of them to little bits.

Something about the look in his eyes just broke her heart.

I'm so sorry...

This damaged, but unfailingly kind man had seen a great deal of loss and pain.
She hadn't understood the extent of it until tonight, and a fresh wave of guilt at being the cause for more tugged at her.

He started to wrap her in a hug, but she finished it; coaxing him down to lay beside her, with his head resting under her chin.
Hushed words of comfort in her native toungue combined with the gentle play of fingers in his hair would hopefully help him realize that while she had been part of those horrors, they were behind her now.

They were behind her.
The dreams still woke her in the quiet hours of the night, and the scars were new and vivid on her body, but thanks to these small measures of comfort; to him, and to Faye, she was going to be alright.

" shhh..." she soothed, and switched back to English for his benefit, " It'll be ok. "

"You aren't responsible for what happened, so don't even say it."

Frederick didn't say anything. He couldn't. He knew why she did what she did, and that she would have done it no matter what anyone would have said - but it didn't change the fact that if he had not met Scarab, she would not have gone through that. And it didn't change the fact that he was completely powerless to stop it from happening to anyone else.

He allowed himself to be held close, his arms wrapping around her in turn. He didn't know that he'd sleep that night, but he'd rest with her... and hope that it comforted her, at least a little.

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Log: Ongoing

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