10-16-2019, 11:03 PM
LIES A THOUSAND HORRIFYING MEMORIES | | |
TRIGGER WARNINGS:
Alcoholism and descriptions of hangovers; Skipping breakfast because of hangover; Mild to intense suicidal idealization; Bodily functions shutting down (specifically eyesight); Mentions of and ICly described murder/death; Unresolved grieving and trauma associated with it; Mentions of child abuse/neglect and death of children; Taking responsibility for actions done when in a vulnerable state; Slavery if you go deep into the connotations
I never?? ICly introduced some very important figures in Salem's past before so! This one's for the dead people strewn in his wake.
Please read and fully consider all trigger warnings listed above! This one is pretty heavy, so please read with caution.
He woke up with a headache pounding behind his eyes, and his body felt like it was just about ready to drop dead as soon as his brain stopped running. It wasn't an unfamiliar state to be in, not for him; he'd spent the better time of his life making bad decisions and waking up wishing for nothing more than his molecules to stop holding together and dissipate.
He managed to climb out of bed and stumble downstairs into his kitchen; his unpowered fridge and dusty pantry were full of canned and expired food. A virtual bounty, if he had an appetite worth a shit. He could just unlock his liquor cabinet and start drinking again but- really, the thought of putting anything into his body made him feel even more sick.
So, no food or liquor for him. He choked down a sip of water, but frankly it didn't feel good or enjoyable. And there was this annoying fucking noise that kept repeating, constantly, ever since he woke up-
Oh wait, that was someone knocking on his door. He walked over, opening the door without bothering to check the peephole and leaning against the doorframe as he assessed the tiny messenger looking up at him with defiant eyes. They'd probably been waiting there for the twenty minutes since their knocking woke him up, which Salem thought he should probably regret but didn't.
"S-sir?![[Image: QRyBGtl.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/QRyBGtl.jpg)
is looking for you." The messenger said, and Salem blinked. He hadn't caught the name, and he wasn't about to go to a meeting with someone he didn't care about. Plus it was like, eight in the morning or whatever, too fucking early for anybody to be running around.
"Didn't catch the name, what was that?" Salem tried to not be a jerk, mainly because the longer he looked at the messenger the more he felt like he'd seen that face before somewhere- and like, most people hated having repeated interactions with him.
"? She needs you urgently, we've already kept her waiting too long." The messenger said, reaching out to tug on his sleeve to punctuate the urgentness. Salem rolled his eyes and stepped out, wincing at the sunlight and tried to resist the urge to empty the contents of his stomach on his front porch.
He still hadn't caught the name, but at best it was Paige or Olga; both women he didn't particularly care about, but he supposed he'd humor them if they needed him. He followed the messenger out onto the streets, everything a bit fuzzy around the edges but that was fairly normal for him. Maybe his eyesight was going, wouldn't be surprising that parts of his body were starting to shut down.
Life wouldn't be great when he was blind, but he was already starting to accept it; it'd make his revenge a whole of a lot harder, but he wouldn't give up. Carter wouldn't accept him giving up, after all.
Carter, why was he thinking of Carter suddenly? It'd been a while since he'd felt his chest heave with the heaviness of unexpressed grief, or the pinpricks at the edge of his eyes and pressure in his sinuses when he held back tears.
At least was dead now. Slaughtered like a dog, like she deserved. Huh, her name was even fuzzy in his mind; he couldn't be losing it, right? Her name had been scorched into his mind, scorched into his soul. She was the reason he'd lost the only person who'd ever truly cared for him; no late term betrayal when it became convenient, no forced loyalties, no what-ifs.
The fire he felt in his soul evaporated any tears that might've been clinging to the edges of his eyes. He couldn't be crying in public now, not on deck when was standing in front of him leering down at him and he looks down at his hands with all five digits but they're shaking and-
No no no, he was back and he was young and the grief still clung to him. Numbness spread over his friends, Carter's crew, and Monty's hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Emotions slammed into each other, boiling and swirling like warm and cold air forming a tornado inside his mind. He couldn't hear anything except the ringing of his ears and Jenny was holding back his hair as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the ocean and-
He was sitting on deck while Stephen lamented and Monty couldn't feel anything anything anything and he just needed something and-
Mason was pressing a kiss to his lips, hesitant and rough and insistent all at the same time and he was melting because it was something, there was finally something sparking in his chest other than anger-
And suddenly the anger was all that he felt and was dead in the water and he was covered in blood and he needed more, he needed more-
He felt like he was suddenly overflowing, overflowing with emotions that weren't his own and he didn't deserve and there was no light to guide him because everyone around him just made him keep feeling and feeling and feeling-
"How much responsibility do you take for it?" The messenger had stopped at the point between memories and reality, and kept facing away from him into the past. Salem took a strained breath, heart hammering in his chest. He knew somehow that not answering would be worse than the truth.
"I knew what I was doing, I wasn't tricked or coerced or forced. I could've saved everyone, and I chose power." Salem responded, the truth dripping from his lips like poison. The messenger tilted their head to the side, as if turning over his answer mentally before responding.
"You were a child, were you not? Stricken with grief and forced into a lifestyle by people who should've protected you." The messenger said, lilting voice contemplative as they spoke. "Do you really want to take responsibility for the actions of those who used you?"
Salem took another labored breath, the atmosphere feeling like Flintlock's; the air was simply too thin, and he couldn't get enough oxygen to think clearly. If he didn't pass out from the hangover, maybe it'd be from asphyxiation.
"I've hurt too many people to claim myself as any sort of victim in this." Salem said, taking a step forward towards the messenger though it felt like he was passing through molasses. "I hurt you, didn't I?"
"Of course you did. I was a child, my hand forced into violence by yours; I longed for death until it became a reality. I had never known love, and you would never have lifted a finger to show me compassion." The messenger said, turning to look at him. Salem saw children, powdermonkeys he'd kidnapped and abused and killed; Salem saw Carter, standing stoically against as she leveled the gun to his head; Salem saw himself, tears streaming down his face as anger and numbness fought for dominance within his mind.
"You know what needs to be done." The messenger said, turning back to look into the swirling path of memories. Salem unholstered his gun silently, and pressed it against the messenger's head. He had chosen his path, he couldn't go back now.
The shot rung out in slow motion, and he was outside himself watching as Carter's form slumped against the mast where he was tied and Kiin still held the smoking barrel to his head, her wicked grin terrifying and familiar and too much like his when he caught his own reflection in the water.
And he woke up.
(Not open to IC replies but feel free to say something OOCly or. not idm)
Alcoholism and descriptions of hangovers; Skipping breakfast because of hangover; Mild to intense suicidal idealization; Bodily functions shutting down (specifically eyesight); Mentions of and ICly described murder/death; Unresolved grieving and trauma associated with it; Mentions of child abuse/neglect and death of children; Taking responsibility for actions done when in a vulnerable state; Slavery if you go deep into the connotations
I never?? ICly introduced some very important figures in Salem's past before so! This one's for the dead people strewn in his wake.
Please read and fully consider all trigger warnings listed above! This one is pretty heavy, so please read with caution.
He woke up with a headache pounding behind his eyes, and his body felt like it was just about ready to drop dead as soon as his brain stopped running. It wasn't an unfamiliar state to be in, not for him; he'd spent the better time of his life making bad decisions and waking up wishing for nothing more than his molecules to stop holding together and dissipate.
He managed to climb out of bed and stumble downstairs into his kitchen; his unpowered fridge and dusty pantry were full of canned and expired food. A virtual bounty, if he had an appetite worth a shit. He could just unlock his liquor cabinet and start drinking again but- really, the thought of putting anything into his body made him feel even more sick.
So, no food or liquor for him. He choked down a sip of water, but frankly it didn't feel good or enjoyable. And there was this annoying fucking noise that kept repeating, constantly, ever since he woke up-
Oh wait, that was someone knocking on his door. He walked over, opening the door without bothering to check the peephole and leaning against the doorframe as he assessed the tiny messenger looking up at him with defiant eyes. They'd probably been waiting there for the twenty minutes since their knocking woke him up, which Salem thought he should probably regret but didn't.
"S-sir?
is looking for you." The messenger said, and Salem blinked. He hadn't caught the name, and he wasn't about to go to a meeting with someone he didn't care about. Plus it was like, eight in the morning or whatever, too fucking early for anybody to be running around."Didn't catch the name, what was that?" Salem tried to not be a jerk, mainly because the longer he looked at the messenger the more he felt like he'd seen that face before somewhere- and like, most people hated having repeated interactions with him.
"
? She needs you urgently, we've already kept her waiting too long." The messenger said, reaching out to tug on his sleeve to punctuate the urgentness. Salem rolled his eyes and stepped out, wincing at the sunlight and tried to resist the urge to empty the contents of his stomach on his front porch.He still hadn't caught the name, but at best it was Paige or Olga; both women he didn't particularly care about, but he supposed he'd humor them if they needed him. He followed the messenger out onto the streets, everything a bit fuzzy around the edges but that was fairly normal for him. Maybe his eyesight was going, wouldn't be surprising that parts of his body were starting to shut down.
Life wouldn't be great when he was blind, but he was already starting to accept it; it'd make his revenge a whole of a lot harder, but he wouldn't give up. Carter wouldn't accept him giving up, after all.
Carter, why was he thinking of Carter suddenly? It'd been a while since he'd felt his chest heave with the heaviness of unexpressed grief, or the pinpricks at the edge of his eyes and pressure in his sinuses when he held back tears.
At least
was dead now. Slaughtered like a dog, like she deserved. Huh, her name was even fuzzy in his mind; he couldn't be losing it, right? Her name had been scorched into his mind, scorched into his soul. She was the reason he'd lost the only person who'd ever truly cared for him; no late term betrayal when it became convenient, no forced loyalties, no what-ifs.The fire he felt in his soul evaporated any tears that might've been clinging to the edges of his eyes. He couldn't be crying in public now, not on deck when
was standing in front of him leering down at him and he looks down at his hands with all five digits but they're shaking and-No no no, he was back and he was young and the grief still clung to him. Numbness spread over his friends, Carter's crew, and Monty's hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Emotions slammed into each other, boiling and swirling like warm and cold air forming a tornado inside his mind. He couldn't hear anything except the ringing of his ears and Jenny was holding back his hair as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the ocean and-
He was sitting on deck while Stephen lamented and Monty couldn't feel anything anything anything and he just needed something and-
Mason was pressing a kiss to his lips, hesitant and rough and insistent all at the same time and he was melting because it was something, there was finally something sparking in his chest other than anger-
And suddenly the anger was all that he felt and
was dead in the water and he was covered in blood and he needed more, he needed more-He felt like he was suddenly overflowing, overflowing with emotions that weren't his own and he didn't deserve and there was no light to guide him because everyone around him just made him keep feeling and feeling and feeling-
"How much responsibility do you take for it?" The messenger had stopped at the point between memories and reality, and kept facing away from him into the past. Salem took a strained breath, heart hammering in his chest. He knew somehow that not answering would be worse than the truth.
"I knew what I was doing, I wasn't tricked or coerced or forced. I could've saved everyone, and I chose power." Salem responded, the truth dripping from his lips like poison. The messenger tilted their head to the side, as if turning over his answer mentally before responding.
"You were a child, were you not? Stricken with grief and forced into a lifestyle by people who should've protected you." The messenger said, lilting voice contemplative as they spoke. "Do you really want to take responsibility for the actions of those who used you?"
Salem took another labored breath, the atmosphere feeling like Flintlock's; the air was simply too thin, and he couldn't get enough oxygen to think clearly. If he didn't pass out from the hangover, maybe it'd be from asphyxiation.
"I've hurt too many people to claim myself as any sort of victim in this." Salem said, taking a step forward towards the messenger though it felt like he was passing through molasses. "I hurt you, didn't I?"
"Of course you did. I was a child, my hand forced into violence by yours; I longed for death until it became a reality. I had never known love, and you would never have lifted a finger to show me compassion." The messenger said, turning to look at him. Salem saw children, powdermonkeys he'd kidnapped and abused and killed; Salem saw Carter, standing stoically against
as she leveled the gun to his head; Salem saw himself, tears streaming down his face as anger and numbness fought for dominance within his mind."You know what needs to be done." The messenger said, turning back to look into the swirling path of memories. Salem unholstered his gun silently, and pressed it against the messenger's head. He had chosen his path, he couldn't go back now.
The shot rung out in slow motion, and he was outside himself watching as Carter's form slumped against the mast where he was tied and Kiin still held the smoking barrel to his head, her wicked grin terrifying and familiar and too much like his when he caught his own reflection in the water.
And he woke up.
(Not open to IC replies but feel free to say something OOCly or. not idm)
[justify]I feel the unbearable weight, [abbr=Goes by Salem or Monty | He/Him or They/Them Pronouns | 28yrs Old | 6'3"| Officer of the Badlands | Former pirate captain | Sexuality is a unlabeled free for all, romance is questioning]&[/abbr]
I sense the ripping of my shame, [abbr=Medium-Hard Physically | Hard Mentally | Attacks with whip, scimitar or revolver | Open to capture and maim if requested / discussed prior | Not open for death | Difficult but not impossible to defeat or subdue]&[/abbr]
I hear the sigh of indifference [abbr=Guy Fieri aesthetic | Neck-length dull brownish-grey hair | Bright green eyes | Three piercings on both ears (two on top cartilage, one large on lobe), and a lip piercing | Scruffy beard starting to grow in | Both pinky fingers cut off]&[/abbr]
(IC Opinions)[/justify]
I sense the ripping of my shame, [abbr=Medium-Hard Physically | Hard Mentally | Attacks with whip, scimitar or revolver | Open to capture and maim if requested / discussed prior | Not open for death | Difficult but not impossible to defeat or subdue]&[/abbr]
I hear the sigh of indifference [abbr=Guy Fieri aesthetic | Neck-length dull brownish-grey hair | Bright green eyes | Three piercings on both ears (two on top cartilage, one large on lobe), and a lip piercing | Scruffy beard starting to grow in | Both pinky fingers cut off]&[/abbr]
(IC Opinions)[/justify]
TAKING LESSONS FROM THE DELUDED
top dog salem - he/him or they/them
tags in template
tags in template
