|
Post by NIKOLA TESLA on Nov 14, 2012 15:12:11 GMT -5
He had guessed that it would be a touchy subject - he'd noticed her tensing each time he'd looked at it before, and now was no exception. That wasn't even touching on her hesitance regarding all her other scars, either. He hardly expected it to be a pleasant story. Few things that left scars had one of those, after all, the one on his own side included. She neatly avoided admitting to being fully aware of what he was talking about, though, so he didn't push immediately. There was no point in that. They had, hopefully, years together to figure it all out.
Anything. Everything.
He left the inquiry open-ended for now, preferring that she was comfortable talking about stuff first. Her wariness was to do with the fact he was primarily asking about her scar, he was fairly certain, but that hardly meant that that was the only reason. For all he knew, it was merely masking her not wanting to talk about herself period. He found himself tracing the edge of the clover again, though, and forced himself to stop when he realized.
I mean, I'm not saying you have to, but... You could start with how you got that. I've been... Curious.
He murmured softly, trying his hardest not to pry - which was hardly easy for him. He was used to asking direct questions and not caring about the consequences. This whole caring about whether or not what he was doing was socially acceptable was proving slightly more difficult than expected - but at least he was trying.
|
|
|
Post by EMILY PRENTISS on Nov 14, 2012 23:31:30 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Remember%20the%20Name/middle-20.png]
speech - thoughts - narrative
She paused for a moment at his answer, though it wasn't the fact that it had been so brief that caught her off guard- it was the sheer bluntness of it. He wanted to know anything and everything about her- and whether he was focused on the brand right now or not, something about that prompted her to lean in to press a kiss to the nearest part of him her mouth could reach, which ended up being his neck at the moment. This- what they had together- was in its own little way perfect, and she'd do her best to answer any questions he may have- that, she knew for certain.
However, it wasn't as easy as she would've liked it to be, and she ended up involuntarily tensing up once again as he fell to tracing the clover's outline. It had long since faded from the burnt reddish-gray color it had once had to a more dull gray, though one that still stood out against her skin tone quite vibrantly. She could cover it up with makeup when it was necessary, at least, though she hardly had access to any of the stuff right now, and it wasn't like he hadn't already noticed the brand. She wasn't surprised when moments later he started pushing, however gently, towards the topic, and she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid it forever- though that hardly meant she intended to come right out with the answer either.
...it's... it's not a very- very pleasant story.
She murmured, nuzzling into his neck a bit and letting her eyes fall shut for a moment. Whether she wanted to or not, though, she was already forced to relive the memories- finding the flower outside of her apartment, going after Doyle herself once her team got involved in the case, and being tortured in the warehouse for both her betrayal of Doyle and her supposed "murder" of his son- and she still had the scars from that torture to this day, the clover being only one of them. She had no doubt Nikola had noticed the other during their activities, though he hadn't said anything, so she could only be relieved for now- though she hardly thought her earlier answer would satisfy his curiosity, or even remotely discourage him, and so she elaborated.
I... I just got on someone's bad side, a while back. It's- it's nothing, really. He's... he's dead now anyways.
404 words for nikola tesla
written while listening to porcelain -- marianas trench
"No particular notes for this post."
| |
|
|
|
Post by NIKOLA TESLA on Nov 15, 2012 6:32:21 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Remember%20the%20Name/middle.png]
speech - thoughts - narrative
Of course it wasn't a very pleasant story - it had left a scar. He'd never expected it to be. He didn't push immediately, though, merely holding her a little tighter as she nuzzled in close. He didn't know if he'd get more than that or not - and right now, he didn't really care. Clearly it was a worse topic than he'd thought. He let one hand go to play with the end of her hair, burying a kiss amongst it in the top of her head after even if it currently meant pulling away for a moment. He didn't stay away long, though, before returning to be as close as he could, for her sake.
She did elaborate, though, and it only left him with more questions. First and foremost, of course, being who the hell would brand somebody just for pissing them off? He was an expert at being that annoyance everyone wanted to kill, after all. He had never had anyone come after him with a red hot bit of metal - though John had probably been tempted a few times.
If you don't want to talk about it, Em, I told you - you don't have to. But... but if you ever do, I'll listen. I promise.
He wound up pulling back a little again so he could looked her in the eye, the hand from her upper arm and shoulder rising to cup her cheek and turn her chin up so that - provided she opened her eyes - she had no choice but to look in his. He meant it, every word - and that, along with sheer concern and confusion rested in his gaze. He wouldn't push for more answers - the bastard was dead, there was little point - but that hardly meant he was happy to be unable to do anything that would help.
emily prentiss ...tagged 311 ...words --- ...playlist --- ...notes
| |
|
|
|
Post by EMILY PRENTISS on Nov 15, 2012 9:40:51 GMT -5
She opened her eyes at his words, and as a result was able to meet his eyes the moment his fingers brushed her face and turned her chin up towards him. It was obvious just how sincere he was, but at the same time she knew he deserved an explanation of some sort- and it wasn't like she didn't intend to ask him about his scar, so it was only fair that she at least gave him the gist of her story. Her next words were hesitant at best, but she meant it- he did have a right to know.
b]...no, it's- it's fine. You have the right to know... and it's not like I've really talked about it before.[/b]
Eyes drifting partially shut, she leaned into his touch, though not otherwise pulling away from him. Being where they were, entangled with each other and with no intention of moving- well, it was comforting as much as it was comfortable. She knew that, whatever she said, it wouldn't change anything between them- or at least, she hoped it wouldn't. She wasn't sure just how well the whole 'sleeping with a terrorist' part would go over- she just hoped he'd let her get away with being as vague as possible on that from.
...a, uh, while back, when I still worked at Interpol, we- my team- we were working on a case, and... I went undercover, and really pissed off the guy we were trying to arrest. And I... I faked the death of his son. He escaped from prison a few years back and came after the team that put him in jail. He- he got most of them. Clyde and I are the only ones left, and... it's only sheer luck that I survived at all.
Her eyes fell once more, and she hesitantly unravelled one arm from around him to indicate the scar from when Doyle had stabbed her. Nikola may not be able to tell exactly what had happened with only a glance, but she was confident he would at least be able to tell just how near fatal it had been. She'd flatlined once or twice in the ambulance, she remembered that much- she'd discussed it with Reid once, seeing as he'd temporarily died before as well. She wrapped her arm back around him then, pressing in close once more before speaking again.
...he's dead now, though. So don't worry about me, okay? I'm fine- just a few scars to remember it by.
She did, however, still want to know about his scar, and she fell to tracing it lightly with her finger as a silent question of her own. Like him with her, she wouldn't push if he didn't want to talk about it, though she did still wan to know. In the meantime, she simply pressed a bit closer, nuzzling back into his neck and letting her eyes fall shut again before finally speaking once more.
...what about you? Tell me about yourself.
|
|
|
Post by NIKOLA TESLA on Nov 16, 2012 0:35:11 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Remember%20the%20Name/middle.png]
speech - thoughts - narrative
He'd held her a little tighter as she began the tale, knowing that if she hadn't ever talked about it that it had to be something pretty bad. She wasn't the person to share everything, but if it was some harmless sort of story, she would have talked to someone - a friend, or coworker. The fact she was confiding in him, of course, wasn't lost on him, but that was hardly the point, even if it did make him rather glad she clearly trusted him so much in such a short period of time.
His eyes trailed down to the one other scar that was particularly worrisome, at least to him, based solely on it's size alone. Knowing it was the same incident left him with mixed feelings - glad it meant there hadn't been two incidents similar to one another to sheer amount of pain, but also worried and sickened at the thought of just how much pain that must have been; and all at once no less. He just pulled her back in as soon as he could, arms wrapping firmly around her and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
He might have murmured some sort of reassurance, even though she was telling him she was fine, had she not fallen to tracing his own scar. It was longer ago; easier to put out of his mind. Still, the second her finger skimmed it, he knew and he tensed up. He could have anticipated this, given what he'd asked about, but he hadn't. He, like her, forced himself to relax, though, even if he avoided it for a little while with a small shrug.
There's not too much to tell. Not beyond Wikipedia, anyway. I mean, there's the vampire bit and all that, but you know about that stuff already. Everything else is... either mundane or morbid. World Wars and all that.
He was well aware that he wasn't being any better than she had initially been. It wasn't out of lack of trust, either - but just like it was easier to push to the back of his mind because it was a far older memory, it was also that much harder to talk about. Like her, he'd never told anyone the story - and now that so much time had passed, he didn't really want to, especially not when wording it would be so difficult. And that was discounting how much he still blamed himself.
emily prentiss ...tagged 406 ...words --- ...playlist --- ...notes
| |
|
|
|
Post by EMILY PRENTISS on Nov 16, 2012 9:40:56 GMT -5
She'd be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying the fact that he held her all the tighter as she spoke- if anything, it was the one thing keeping her from breaking down entirely. It wasn't exactly a pleasant memory, after all- Doyle pressing the hot brand to her skin, her trying to play along with his game if it meant staying alive, and the struggle that had only ended in him stabbing her with the very weapon she'd been beating him with seconds before. Her only saving grace was the fact that she had never loved Doyle- or even came close, for that matter. She'd been able to stay objective. He, however, had not.
Even as she began tracing his own scar, she pressed closer, nuzzling back into his neck and trying to distract herself with their present situation- naked and entangled up in each other, which she was quite happy to admit she was enjoying regardless of their previous activities. The simple warmth of his skin against hers was soothing, and she was able to finally relax again- at least, she was, until he tensed up beside her and she immediately began to worry. She could only assume the scar was a sore topic then- both the fact that he'd tensed and the way he avoided her obvious question made that clear. She wasn't about to push him to talk about it, though- not when this appeared to be so much more touchy of a subject than she'd thought.
...you don't have to tell me if you don't want, Nik. Really. I understand.
She murmured softly, letting her hand fall away from tracing his scar and instead wrapping the arm around him as well, pulling him even closer and bringing her head to rest in the crook of his neck. She meant it- as much as she wanted to know what had happened, she understood, and she'd be there for him when he did decide to tell her. In the meantime, she pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, eyes falling shut as she adjusted her grip on him and murmured a few soft, reassuring words.
Whatever it is, it doesn't change anything, okay? I love you. I will always love you.
~ ughh. overly cheesy/fluffy. which is annoying me, because I'm in the mood for angst right now xD
|
|
|
Post by NIKOLA TESLA on Nov 16, 2012 12:29:05 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Remember%20the%20Name/middle.png]
speech - thoughts - narrative
He wasn't able to entirely relax even as her hand fell away. In truth, he hardly noticed the fact it had, stuck in the memory again, the one that haunted him. There were others that did, of course, but that had always been one of the worst. Her holding him closer, though, that snapped him out of it, and one hand tangled in her hand as the other arm gripped her as tightly as he could without hurting her.
I know- it's- it's not that- that I don't want to. It's... just been a very long time.
Even without telling her about it, he was hesitant as he spoke. He knew she would hardly approve of him blaming himself. He knew he shouldn't. He had been five. But it didn't matter. Children that age, in that time period - they were more sensible, whether she understood that or not. They knew the way the world worked far better than sheltered five year olds these days. He had known what he was asking for. He had known the dangers. He had merely thought he was invincible, that they both were. He had been terribly wrong.
I... I was rather young. I was out with my brother, horseback. There... there was an accident. My fault. The horse flipped, crushed Dani. He died and I just got that.
He didn't mention how it had still nearly killed him. It wouldn't have if they'd been closer and someone had known to go looking, after all. It was only the fact they'd been out in the middle of nowhere that had made it so dangerous. He didn't go into more detail, how that had gone on to cause his mother to have a mental break, how his older sisters had pretended he didn't exist, how his father had hated him and made it clear. It was unrelated to the scar, and, really, the true reason he didn't want to talk about it. It was the accident that haunted his dreams - but it was the aftereffects that had truly scarred him.
emily prentiss ...tagged 342 ...words --- ...playlist --- ...notes
| |
|
|
|
Post by EMILY PRENTISS on Nov 18, 2012 17:04:27 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Remember%20the%20Name/middle-20.png]
speech - thoughts - narrative
It's okay, Nik. You don't have to talk about it.
She murmured, trying to reassure him that she wasn't about to force him into telling her about it though she was glad when he went ahead and expanded on it anyways. She listened carefully as he spoke, her arms still wrapped around him and her entire attention focused on him even after he finished speaking. His story itself broke her heart, yes, but it was the fact that Nikola actually blamed himself for it that cut the deepest- she knew what it was like to feel personally responsible for someone's death, and it was far from pleasant.
It was an accident, Nik. There's no way you could've known. You can't blame yourself- please don't blame yourself.
The hand that had earlier been tracing his scar unwrapped itself from around him again, and this time she brought it up to run her fingers gently through his hair, eyes falling mostly shut again as she buried her face in the side of his own. She didn't know just what to do to make his pain go away, sure, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try- and right now, staying there with him like she was was probably one of her best bets, not that she had planned to move anyways. She was happy here with him- loved him, though right now her thoughts were much more focused on the fact that he actually blamed himself for the death of his brother.
248 words for nikola tesla
written while listening to nothing
"No particular notes for this post."
| |
|
|
|
Post by NIKOLA TESLA on Nov 19, 2012 6:25:44 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Remember%20the%20Name/middle.png]
speech - thoughts - narrative
But I did know, Em - maybe not that he'd die, but I knew how dangerous it was.
He didn't want to argue with her, but she didn't understand. She didn't understand how he'd known every single risk, known how high the chances were. Dani hadn't been the only child prodigy in the household, after all. And even at five years old, Nikola had known the risks and understood them fully. He paused from continuing as she ran her fingers through his hair, eyes closing to keep the tears in and burying in closer, holding on tight and pressing into every bit of contact.
I knew the ground was too soft, I knew that riding double would make it even riskier, and I knew that Dani never said said no to me, especially on my birthday. I knew, and I asked him anyway. Didn't even have to beg.
Despite the fact his voice was shaky and clouded with the threat of tears, it was dead sure. There was no doubt in his mind that, if he had simply listened to logic instead of his damn heart, than Dani would have lived a much longer life. Perhaps Dani would have been the vampire, or the one to invent all the things Nikola had made, but it wouldn't have mattered because he would have been alive and Nikola wouldn't have known what he was missing. He couldn't help it, though. The tears stinging his eyes spilled over and he pressed closer. Because it wasn't the resulting crack in his relationships with his family that had hurt the most.
No, that had just been losing Dani, even if it had been the aftermath that had shaped him.
--- ...tagged --- ...words --- ...playlist --- ...notes
| |
|
|
|
Post by EMILY PRENTISS on Nov 19, 2012 9:32:36 GMT -5
You were just a kid, Nik. It was an accident. And it wasn't your fault- I need you to believe that.
She continued running her fingers gently through his hair as she spoke, pulling him in closer with her other arm and holding him pressed against her. It seemed to be helping on some level, and so she'd keep doing it- and it wasn't like she wasn't enjoying the close contact on top of it all. However, right now, her topmost priority was comforting him and at the same time trying to make him believe her when she said it wasn't his fault. That last part may just be futile, sure, but she was going to try anyways- would never stop trying.
She let her hand fall from his hair to wrap around him as well, pulling back enough to look him in the eyes and feeling her heart break at the realization that he was crying, and there was nothing she could do to stop it; to take that pain away from him. Her next words were softly murmured but entirely heartfelt, and she could only hope she could convince him to believe her.
You didn't know he'd die. You can't blame yourself for that- please don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault.
She leaned in to press her forehead against his, her eyes falling closed and her own eyes stinging with tears as she finally closed the gap between their lips, keeping the kiss soft and sweet but trying to help him regardless- and every little reminder that she was there and that she loved him at least seemed to help on some level, so there was no way she was stopping anytime soon. She did end up speaking again eventually, though, her voice still quiet as she simply made another attempt to convince him not to hold himself at fault.
...it wasn't your fault, Nik. It was never your fault.
|
|