yardbird: These are the days we'll never forget... (when the dawn dawns on you)
Murphy Pendleton ([personal profile] yardbird) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2012-08-12 06:19 pm

letting the days go by, into silent water [open]

CHARACTERS: Murphy Pendleton and you.
LOCATION: Anywhere. This is pretty much a free-for-all of CR.
WARNINGS: Insert the usual Silent Hill disclaimer here.
SUMMARY: Insomnia hits. Friendly neighborhood convict takes a little stroll.



He couldn't sleep.

Granted, this was nothing new and exciting. If nothing else, it was fucking tedious. His brief spell of excessive sleeping habits died real fast after the jump wired Murphy up all over again.

It wasn't always this bad. In fact, he used to sleep a fair bit. There wasn't much else to do during his alone time in prison, so it had been the only resort next to going stir-crazy with boredom.

Even with Anne in the same room these days, Murphy still felt the nagging urge to escape the closing walls of his cell bedroom. Unlike Ryall, he could at least work off his restlessness by stretching his legs. There were still places that he hadn't yet seen, grounds that he hadn't yet covered. He could scratch this itch. He could.

So he just wandered for awhile. Aimlessly, as usual. He almost felt dazed. But it was good to be out. Not free, not safe, though close enough to settle on the fact that his present situation proved to be more favorable than where he had been coming from, in ways.

That was just sad.

Murphy, this is your life right now. Take a good long look at it.
unsoldiered: (dat hair)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-13 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
No problem, bro.

He tries in vain to hold in a laugh; so Murphy was as hideously self-conscious, too. How about that. He leans his mouth into his palm and tries to play it off as just a casual smirk. No laughing at your expense here. Not even if there was an ugly little snerk that snuck out between his fingers. It was funny, okay? And endearing, for an alleged escaped convict.

(The company he keeps.)

"That worried about going gray? You shouldn't freak about it too much; it's a distinguishing thing. The chicks'll dig it."

He has no room to talk about hair, with his poofy magical nest and all, but whatever.
unsoldiered: (elle you got a purty missing bulletin)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-14 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
Alex raises his eyebrow, turning so that his arms are supported on the back of the pew. He gets the whole 'awkward about ladies' thing if that's his problem, since hey--he's not exactly the bastion of relationships like that. Never even had a girlfriend, y'know. He'd thought about asking someone out once... and then shit sort of went downhill. But still, seeing that kind of reply from someone nearly two decades older was still kinda funny.

"I was mostly joking."

... Mostly.

"Just be glad you're not getting a bald spot anywhere. Seems like a sad way for someone's hair to go."

unsoldiered: (that's kind of okay)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-14 07:49 am (UTC)(link)
"I sure hope so."

He shakes his head, smiling faintly.

"You're, what... 35? 36? Having a hard time living up to the old man title, anyway." It's a distant and pleasant sort of reply, spoken as fodder to keep the silence at bay. He looks back to the chapel again, his fingers entwined in front of his knees. "Just don't get yourself overworked, doing all this. Limits, and all that."
unsoldiered: (IS THAT WHERE HE IS LADY?)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-14 09:54 am (UTC)(link)
... It really says something when Alex isn't surprised. At the response. The fact that Murphy didn't give an exact number. He's not surprised at all, knowing how things back home were sometimes.

"Yeah. Good to see you're finding something to do around here."

Personally, Alex was thinking about joining the security around here... but he's not had a whole lot of luck with that just yet. It's an idea shaping up in his head—but lately, the energy he wants to dedicate to it has been spotty at best. It's frustrating, how he can be content and well one day, entirely unscrewed and locked up the next. He wishes he could find some balance that didn't make him feel defective.

He adds, thoughtful, as he fidgets with the chain around his neck lazily, "Not always that easy, right?"
Edited (adverbs. adverbs everywhere.) 2012-08-14 18:05 (UTC)
unsoldiered: (jkjk)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-14 08:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"... Yeah... I've been thinking about joining security, but..." But. There's a lot of uncertainty, holding over people's safety in his hands, if only just a little. He's not the soundest of minds, either... Hard to find faith in your own abilities when your qualifications for it are I'm a nutcase from the hospital who's killed plenty. It's on that thought that his expression falls, frown deepening. He shrugs. "Don't know. When I was younger I thought I had an idea of what I wanted to be, wanted to do... but now I don't have a damn clue."

He leans back.

I grew up in a small town. I left because I wanted to make a difference and the people around me were too blind to see that I could.|


He'd thought he was making a difference, but he was just running away. So now what? Yeah, good fuckin' question there. He remembers typing blindly, filling a computer screen with words. At least, he thinks the computer was there. At this point, he's never sure about anything anymore.

My dad would have called me weak. He spent fifteen years in the military. Yeah, nothing to live up to there, huh? He tried to groom me to be a soldier for a while, but he pretty much gave up on that after my brother was born. I think it surprised the hell out of him when I enlisted. He probably didn’t think I could do it.

Well, here I am.|


Not so clear and easy anymore.
Edited 2012-08-14 20:44 (UTC)
unsoldiered: (There goes the homerun.)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-14 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Huh. So you're going with 'Anne' now. That was fast.

I mean

Alex appreciates the advice, and the metaphorical nudge; he's at a point where he's in a hall full of dark corridors to pick from, as much as he'd like to pretend he has everything under control. He's not sure what's going to happen, and frankly, the only thing he's actually truly decided on was that he wasn't going to give up and die. And hell, it took a mad woman and a convict giving him Alex's word to get him through that much.

"Thanks for the help... That sounds good." He nods. "I've got a little training in some military stuff. Nothing official, but I know my way around guns, self defense, things like that." Among other topics.

But the idea of having people's lives in his hands still makes him uneasy. He guesses it's a natural feeling... but this place isn't some mall that needs lazy security. Bad things will happen, and he'll have to be ready to do whatever it takes to protect the people on here.

Even take more lives.

He looks up at the chapel again, quiet. If there's a god other than the vengeance, cruel one he'd come to know... what did it think of him killing so many people? He knows the Christian and Catholic God. He knows it's wrong, to take life. He knows that much... He must absolutely reek of sin. The whole town of Shepherd's Glen must have.
Edited 2012-08-14 22:39 (UTC)
unsoldiered: (heeyyyy kiddo)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-15 12:14 am (UTC)(link)
Good luck with that, Murph. Sometimes lightening up Alex's mood is easy. But sometimes it's like trying to replace a car battery with ones out of a Walkman. Still, that earns a snort out of the guy. "Good to see you keep your word on things, then."

But good. This kind of supportive push... he's just not used to. He'll take whatever he can get around here. Truth be told, Alex was akin to a plant sucking up sunlight—he's been getting stronger for it.

"Maybe I'll have what it takes this time around." To live past whatever standard his family had set for him. Without falling into denial. That would be nice.

He grabs one end of his field jacket. Maybe sometime, someday, he can earn it and the tags. For now it's just a reminder—but the future might make it something more. He hopes, anyway. In the end, maybe he's just a dog wagging its tail, hoping it's enough, how he behaves, the tricks he's learned. Did I do right? Did I do good? He's not sure. At least he knew how why his parents didn't have any aspirations for their son to live up to.

"Wouldn't wanna let anyone down, I mean."

Not this time around.
Edited 2012-08-15 00:16 (UTC)
unsoldiered: (I kinda sorta really maybe like you)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-15 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah... Maybe. Still feels like I haven't done enough, I guess. To make up for other things I've let people down at."

Yeah, Murphy. About that 'judgement' thing... It's not exactly easy to forget the people you've killed. He even knew some of their names. Could, at times, attach a face to the voice behind the gas masks. The four heads of the family suffered for their crimes, he could say that much. Bartlett was crushed into the dirt. His father was ripped apart. Fitch was beheaded. And then he murdered the judge.

He remembers seeing red when he'd done it.

He keeps his eyes on the altar, eyes half-lidded. And then he turns back to Murphy, something sadly determined about his expression. "It's not like I can get forgiveness, so... I, uh... I guess before I go wherever I go, I should do something good."
unsoldiered: (You are so dumb. You are really dumb.)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-15 01:56 am (UTC)(link)
Nah, it's fine. Alex is alright with off humor nowadays. In fact, he actually smiles at it. What the fuck, he thinks. We're talking about eternal damnation and cracking wise about it. In a chapel. If that's not a testament to where they were yanked from, he doesn't know what is. He drops and shakes his head, snickering.

"That's fucked up."

We are fucked up. And just a little stupid. There's a short silence as he looks up, fingers still linked together. He raises his eyebrows, exhaling. "Don't think I'll make the cut for parole, though. But I'll put in a good word for you."

unsoldiered: (what a fucking sourpuss)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-15 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
"Jesus, company... As long as I don't run into any particular faces, I'm fine with it."

Because eternal damnation with Curtis and Mayor Bartlett... No thanks.

Just. No fucking thanks. It's why he adds, "Until then, I'm starting to get used to living again, so maybe I'll stick to that for a while, see where the hell it gets me."

Alright. So the next step in life is 'join security'. He supposes he's game for that now. Why the hell not?
unsoldiered: (desu)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-15 04:22 am (UTC)(link)
Ha.

"My hero."

A convict and a mental headcase battling together in hell. Sounds like a second rate horror comedy flick on late night television. Or it'd make a pretty interesting comic book, he thinks.

He pauses, frowning. Actually, he kinda turned down another topic path—a reminder of things that's happened. As much as he wants to joke, if it wasn't for Murphy, he's not sure where he'd be right now. Twice he's dragged him. Once metaphorically to a shoddy bar, once literally, when his legs couldn't hold him up anymore. He leans back, clearing his throat.

"... Thanks." Right, vague. He looks up sheepishly. Hard to concisely say why, but he summarizes it up as much as he can, even if he's awful with words 99 percent of the time. "For putting up with me. Not leaving me behind. All that, uh... stuff."

The people here seem good. Most of them seem good.

He has to protect as many of those good people as he can.
unsoldiered: (he's dead jim)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-15 07:40 am (UTC)(link)
Alex bows his head, listening, deathly quiet, horrified and sympathetic and honored all at once that he's being told things like this. He almost wants to stop him, make sure he said it for himself, not for anything else...

Even if he's shared gems of his own, it feels wrong, to have him spill his heart in front of an altar and a tired fake soldier, with nothing in return but the quiet—maybe it's just the way this place is. Maybe it's how faith and god and places of worship were supposed to work. He's never sat in one long enough to feel much of anything. But what he did know is this actually gave enough of a damn to tell him these things. And in return, Alex was willing to tell him the same.

So, Alex. You have a friend. Not the kind with air quotes around it.

He's quiet for a while, and he doubts Murphy really notices how much time passes. Or maybe he does and doesn't care.

"I..."

It's just a sad, brief sound, more like a breath, and his stomach knots.

"... When the curse came to the town, my mom and dad were taken by the cult. I was... standing there, next to her, y'know? She was as the same distance you are right now—and I couldn't do anything but lay there on the floor and watch them take her."

Alex Shepherd, always the one left behind. The Shepherd kid. The sheriff's boy.

"The next time I saw her, she was... the same distance again, just that far away, strapped into some—some machine, and I couldn't get her loose. She was begging for me to kill her because it was hurting so much, so I..." He trails off, clenching his teeth, looking down. He eventually shakes his head. "And then... when my dad died, I just stood there and watched it happen. I don't know why, but I just froze. Every time someone needed me, I just froze."

He slides his hand over his leg as it aches sharply, like it was listening. He knows that's stupid. It's just an old, healed wound whining in the middle of the night. He pauses, squeezing his thigh.

"... I don't want to be the person left standing anymore. Not because I was too weak to protect them. I can't do that anymore, either. I know it's impossible to save everyone, but I can't... I can't do that shit again, either, man. I killed so many people to get to Joshua--"

No. He snaps his mouth shut. That's sacred territory he's scared to tread into. How would he ever explain that—and to someone who lost their son? That he caused the death of a child, because he was a reckless, bitter man? He killed the most important person to him. He can't admit it aloud yet. He just can't. Maybe he deserves disgust or shame from Murphy and anyone else he comes to know. But maybe it's better if he let it fester and rip him apart in silence. He rakes his hand across his face, swallowing hard, finally looking at Murphy with a desperate look in his eyes.

"I can't do that shit again."
Edited 2012-08-15 08:19 (UTC)
unsoldiered: (okay don't touch dolls anymore)

[personal profile] unsoldiered 2012-08-15 10:50 am (UTC)(link)
"... It's gotta be worth something..." He's accomplished things. Small little milestones, like actively leaving his room, looking for people to talk to, to help. He's better off than the guy dumped off on the floor over a month ago. Which is more than he foresaw, anyway. "Or else why the fuck are we still here, right?"

If that was just all their was to it, why would they be here? Why would they have survived that town in the first place? Is it really just dumb luck, or were they given a chance to be something above the misery and pain? He has to tell himself that yes, yes that's absolutely it. Because the alternative is sad as shit.

He stands up, wavering on his leg for a moment. He'd been planning on hitting up the medical bay before this spiraled into a conversation-turned-confessional (ha, how about that?), and he hisses softly between his teeth before adjusting his posture, back turned to Murphy still. Should probably take care of that getting-pain-killers thing, lest he has a random night where it aches him out of sleep.

"Guess we'll see what happens."
Edited 2012-08-15 10:51 (UTC)

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