Malta

Sep. 9th, 2020 02:21 pm
peace_inthe_violence: (Default)
[personal profile] peace_inthe_violence


This is a fairy tale of blood and bullets
It is the story of three men and three women and a small island between Italy and Africa.
This is a story about tragedy and pain, about healing and hope, but mostly it is about
love.

Date: 2020-09-13 01:18 am (UTC)
transfuge: (The Cave)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
Booker didn't need Nicky to explain. He understood because he lived with it. Sometimes, the mind was simply dark and stormy, full of guilt and self-loathing.

"Well, she partially dragged me because I was very drunk," Booker explained with a playful little smile. It faded quickly though. "But I don't regret the night. It did comfort me."

He frowned a little at Nicky's comment. He had those sorts of thoughts once about Joe and Nicky. He had been wrong.

"Feeling some Catholic guilt about all we've done?" Booker didn't mean just the killing but the sex as well. It had been awhile since he indulged with Joe and Nicky.

Date: 2020-09-13 02:12 am (UTC)
transfuge: (Desert Grave)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
"Don't you have a papal dispensation?" Booker mused as he considered the bottle of wine. "For being in the Crusades. I thought that absolved you of every sin from then until eternity."

He was a well read drunk. One of the other places he found peace in were the pages of a good book, fiction or non-fiction. That included the history from before he was with the them.

"I doubt that." He took a drink because it was great wine and he liked being drunk. It was as simple as that. "I'm not scholar of the Crusades but I'm not ignorant. Haven't tried to throw you in the ocean yet. It was bad, yes. I wouldn't call that you a good man but you're not that bastard anymore."

Date: 2020-09-13 02:34 am (UTC)
transfuge: (Regrets)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
"God isn't merciful. We're Catholic."

Though Booker was more than lapsed. He hadn't even been to so much as a Christmas Mass in decades. He had no faith in a God that would make a father watch his son die unable to give his immortality away.

What a fucking miserable creator that was.

"There's a change, though. You gave up your zealotry. You learned to love your 'enemy." Booker rubbed his hand over his face as he tried to remember the Bible verse he wanted.

Drunk, he couldn't think clearly enough to do it. "Yes, you did them. But you regret them. A monster wouldn't regret them. A monster would celebrate it."

Date: 2020-09-13 02:56 am (UTC)
transfuge: (Grief)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
Booker was always quick with a good quip when the situation called for it. It was also very true. He remembered Mass being very damning. They were all sinners doomed to hell and they could try good works to save themselves but, well, it wasn't likely.

"Love is a very powerful thing." Booker tipped his head back against the chair and smiled sadly at the ceiling. "My wife... when I was arrested the second time I thought she would be furious. My sons were. She held me and promised me it would be alright."

He sighed heavily and took a very long drink. Booker missed that love. "He's not blind to your crimes but he loves you anyway. What a hell of a powerful thing that is. What a gift."

Date: 2020-09-13 10:46 pm (UTC)
transfuge: (Shitty Game)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
Back then Booker had done all he could to keep the others away from his family, to keep their message of "leave them" behind. After war and death all he wanted was to be with them. It had felt so healing at first until it all fell apart.

"You're an easy soul to love, Nicolo." He had slipped back into his native tongue, that's how drunk he was. It was turning into a better drunk than before, less dark and stormy.

He still held his love for his wife deep in his heart. A first love, a first true love like that could never fade. Just like the love he felt for his sons.

But he still loved all of them. How could he not? They had put him back together after Jean-Pierre's death and never left his side all these decades.

Date: 2020-09-14 02:09 am (UTC)
transfuge: (Eyebrow)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
They could have a whole conversation in six different languages if they wanted. Booker still followed though the translation took his brain a minute.

He couldn't argue with Nicky's statement though. Booker could be very difficult when he was in the right mood. Or the wrong one. It made him feel a stab of guilt. He had once been very charming and not a bastard.

"You know how the darkness messes with your thoughts. Sometimes I don't feel worthy of that love so..." He gestured to the bottle in his hand. "And distance. It's a struggle."

Date: 2020-09-14 02:56 am (UTC)
transfuge: (Flask)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
"I don't even want myself." Booker let his eyes close smiling a little though it was sad. "Had nothing to do with you or Joe. It's very hard to believe you wanted me when I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror."

Ah, the self-loathing he felt sometimes. Booker didn't always hate himself. He didn't always feel the weight of guilt and grief with every breath but the feeling was more and more common. It wasn't yet a constant state and it was the presence of these people that kept it from happening.

"There are times I can enjoy life and believe me I enjoyed those nights we spent together but... then guilt hits. How dare I be happy when my son died? When I couldn't save him? And I just... " He sighed. Lord he was a disaster of a person wasn't he?

Date: 2020-09-14 03:35 am (UTC)
transfuge: (Arm Chair)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
While rather heavy Booker didn't fight against being moved. He didn't exactly help that much but he let himself get pulled over to the couch. He sprawled a little but let Nicky's head rest in his lap.

Seconds later he started running his fingers through his hair out of habit more than any real thought.

"I had my purpose though." His family had been his purpose. Booker wasn't sure immortality had given him a better one. "There's nothing wrong with what we do and it does some good but... it feels a bit pointless when the world keeps falling apart, no?"

Date: 2020-09-14 03:53 am (UTC)
transfuge: (Motorcycle)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
"I don't like the violence." Booker's fingers went still for a moment and then got back to work. It was the second time he had confessed that. First was to Andy the last time he got this drunk. "I never wanted to be a soldier. A warrior. I never sought out a fight. But I won't stand back while you all fight."

Oh, he was good at it. Napoleon made sure he could march and shoot. Andy made sure he could fight and be brutal. Booker never asked for those things though. He never wanted to fire a musket or wield a sabre.

Children were always his favorite. Booker knew how to handle them unlike the others who could get overwhelmed sometimes. "She was a good girl. Maybe we take years like this and do works like that instead. Until it's time we move on before it gets too dangerous."

He would like to build another school and read to children.

Date: 2020-09-14 02:07 pm (UTC)
transfuge: (Down Sights)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
There were certain people Booker wanted dead as well. People who hurt or exploited children filled him with an animalistic rage. He also enjoyed bringing down corrupt capitalists who exploited their workers.

"It does," he said with a gentle pat to the top of Nicky's head. "If one of you did't come back because I couldn't take a bullet for you... I don't want that guilt. I've got enough of it."

Because he loved these people and needed to protect them. Without them he would be alone and Booker would not do well alone. He would crumble. He would shatter.

"You would do the same for me. I can't give less." As much as he would like to avoid the bullets and the blood Booker couldn't. He couldn't let that happen.

Date: 2020-09-14 09:32 pm (UTC)
transfuge: (Comfy)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
"Staying behind is a coward's way." Booker couldn't stand the thought of them leaving him behind. He needed to be there for his own sense of peace. He smiled fondly at Nicky. Drunk he was even more affectionate than normal which explained the petting of his face. A little awkward but genuinely sweet.

He leaned a little into the touch. "You won't remember this in the morning. You never do when you're this drunk."

Which was a blessing and a downfall. Nicky should remember the important parts about his good soul and how powerful Joe's love for him was. How the Crusades and what he'd done weren't his fault. "I'm not going to let you run into danger and death without me. Ever. You'll just have to accept that."

Date: 2020-09-15 04:02 am (UTC)
transfuge: (Comfy)
From: [personal profile] transfuge
Booker thought about carrying Nicky back to bed but he was probably too drunk for that. They'd both end up falling down the stairs and breaking their necks which would be a pretty embarrassing death to wake up from.

"You sound like your husband." Booker grabbed a throw blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it over Nicky. "Talking about painted shields and all that."

He tucked the blanket around Nicky's shoulders and started humming under his breath a little old lullaby he used to sing to his children. Actual singing might wake the others but a little humming to put Nicky to sleep was good.

As long as he didn't fall asleep while doing it.

Date: 2020-09-15 04:39 am (UTC)
nicely_tousled: (mild concern)
From: [personal profile] nicely_tousled
Joe hadn't been eavesdropping, not really, mostly because the stairs were far enough away from the couch that he could only hear the cadence of voices, not the actual words, even in the quiet and still of that hour of night. So he sat, just leaning against the stair railing, watching quietly.

He'd woken a while before, hit with the sinking realization that it was too cold and too quiet in the bed to be their new usual pile of bodies, so he'd given Andy a kiss on the temple, promised -sleepily- to be back soon and that she should go back to sleep.

But when the afghan was picked up off the back of the couch he rolled to his feet, clearing his throat and stretching, "Alright c'mon, actual bed for that, otherwise you're both going to wake up stiff and I can't carry both of you."

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] nicely_tousled - Date: 2020-09-15 01:26 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] transfuge - Date: 2020-09-15 01:57 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] transfuge - Date: 2020-09-15 04:12 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] nicely_tousled - Date: 2020-09-16 02:42 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] nicely_tousled - Date: 2020-09-16 04:51 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] transfuge - Date: 2020-09-16 11:51 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] nicely_tousled - Date: 2020-09-17 03:22 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] transfuge - Date: 2020-09-17 03:56 am (UTC) - Expand

Profile

peace_inthe_violence: (Default)
Nicolo di Genova

October 2020

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11121314 151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 10th, 2025 06:02 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios