Kurt Weller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
startingpoint) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-06-17 09:21 pm
startingpoint) wrote in entrancelogs2016-06-17 09:21 pm
[ OPEN ]
Who: Kurt Weller + YOU
Where: Around the mansion
When: June 17 and beyond
Rating: PG (I think)
Summary: Broken, hauntedemo FBI agent dealing with his emotional baggage. Come say hi! Get drunk or train at the gym with him. Or insist he just relax a little and have some pie. XD
The Story:
He's been in Wonderland for a few weeks now, but sleep still eludes him. So many people think of dreams as a chance to escape the realities of life, to be free. But his dreams are tainted with darkness, entrapping him in memories he's sure he'll spend the rest of his life reliving, over and over again. The ghosts come when he closes his eyes; all the people he couldn't save, all the families destroyed with two single words: I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save them. He's used the words so many times, he wonders if they hold any meaning for the people left behind to pick up the pieces from a lost life. He used to wonder, if he apologized enough times, would she come back - in that quiet place between dreams where Taylor's still alive? Would she know he meant it, that he would never let her go again?
He's discovered quickly enough that in Wonderland, there is all manner of magic. It's nothing that makes sense to him, it's nothing he can even believe most of the time, but it has its uses. He could ask for a pill to help him sleep, maybe. See if there's a doctor around here to help. Anything. But he won't. He'll live with the ghosts because in his dreams, he gets to see her again. Taylor.
Frustrated, he gives up trying to sleep and leaves the mansion around midnight, making his way outside. Kurt casts his eyes up to the sky, thinking how different and similar it looks at the same time. They made s'mores together under skies like this. They sang songs, they took shelter together in his tent when the sky unleashed a torrent of rain, muting the stars and the light from the moon until all that remained were shadows. She was scared of those moments, that absolute darkness, and the earth trembling with thunder. There was never anything to fear then, Kurt thought. The monsters that existed in this world were easily vanquished, or so his youthful mind thought. All he had to do was hold her and promise to protect her, and the monsters wouldn't dare come near them. He had no idea, of course, that the biggest monster to fear was his own father, that the best friend he cradled in his arms and swore to protect would one day be nothing more than a pile of bones buried beneath the earth by his own father.
He rubs a hand over his face, looking back down at his hands, clenching them together to stop them from shaking. There's no point in trying to sleep now, so he goes back inside, makes his way to the bar, and decides he'll spend the rest of the night tucked into a glass of liquor.
The absence of a daily routine is unnerving to Kurt. It makes him restless and uneasy; not that he'll ever be comfortable in a place like this, but he's desperate for at least something that feels more normal, grounding like if he were at home. He's been told about the training gym, so he tries to get there often, finding comfort in the familiarity of it. He finds himself often at the punching bag, landing strike after strike, finding it almost meditative as he tries to unravel all the chaos in his mind.
Kurt's not the type to openly socialize with anyone, though he tries to be friendly when approached. He's communicated with people through his phone-like device, and that's easier somehow than getting to know people in person. There's a barrier, it keeps him safe from getting close to people he's not fully sure he can trust. But he's met some people here who seem...decent, and with everything he's heard, the more allies he can find, the better. So he tries to get out of his room fairly often, and when he's not at the bar or the gym, he walks around, just getting a feel for the place and the people here. Nothing much seems to happen here between events, but he wants to keep an eye on things regardless.
Where: Around the mansion
When: June 17 and beyond
Rating: PG (I think)
Summary: Broken, haunted
The Story:
b a r;
He's been in Wonderland for a few weeks now, but sleep still eludes him. So many people think of dreams as a chance to escape the realities of life, to be free. But his dreams are tainted with darkness, entrapping him in memories he's sure he'll spend the rest of his life reliving, over and over again. The ghosts come when he closes his eyes; all the people he couldn't save, all the families destroyed with two single words: I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save them. He's used the words so many times, he wonders if they hold any meaning for the people left behind to pick up the pieces from a lost life. He used to wonder, if he apologized enough times, would she come back - in that quiet place between dreams where Taylor's still alive? Would she know he meant it, that he would never let her go again?
He's discovered quickly enough that in Wonderland, there is all manner of magic. It's nothing that makes sense to him, it's nothing he can even believe most of the time, but it has its uses. He could ask for a pill to help him sleep, maybe. See if there's a doctor around here to help. Anything. But he won't. He'll live with the ghosts because in his dreams, he gets to see her again. Taylor.
Frustrated, he gives up trying to sleep and leaves the mansion around midnight, making his way outside. Kurt casts his eyes up to the sky, thinking how different and similar it looks at the same time. They made s'mores together under skies like this. They sang songs, they took shelter together in his tent when the sky unleashed a torrent of rain, muting the stars and the light from the moon until all that remained were shadows. She was scared of those moments, that absolute darkness, and the earth trembling with thunder. There was never anything to fear then, Kurt thought. The monsters that existed in this world were easily vanquished, or so his youthful mind thought. All he had to do was hold her and promise to protect her, and the monsters wouldn't dare come near them. He had no idea, of course, that the biggest monster to fear was his own father, that the best friend he cradled in his arms and swore to protect would one day be nothing more than a pile of bones buried beneath the earth by his own father.
He rubs a hand over his face, looking back down at his hands, clenching them together to stop them from shaking. There's no point in trying to sleep now, so he goes back inside, makes his way to the bar, and decides he'll spend the rest of the night tucked into a glass of liquor.
training gym;
The absence of a daily routine is unnerving to Kurt. It makes him restless and uneasy; not that he'll ever be comfortable in a place like this, but he's desperate for at least something that feels more normal, grounding like if he were at home. He's been told about the training gym, so he tries to get there often, finding comfort in the familiarity of it. He finds himself often at the punching bag, landing strike after strike, finding it almost meditative as he tries to unravel all the chaos in his mind.
around the mansion;
Kurt's not the type to openly socialize with anyone, though he tries to be friendly when approached. He's communicated with people through his phone-like device, and that's easier somehow than getting to know people in person. There's a barrier, it keeps him safe from getting close to people he's not fully sure he can trust. But he's met some people here who seem...decent, and with everything he's heard, the more allies he can find, the better. So he tries to get out of his room fairly often, and when he's not at the bar or the gym, he walks around, just getting a feel for the place and the people here. Nothing much seems to happen here between events, but he wants to keep an eye on things regardless.
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"Why did you? All that time - why did you believe him, Sarah?"
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"Because you didn't. You were so against him. And I didn't want to believe it. I didn't, Kurt. I couldn't..." Her face crumbles then. "I couldn't believe it."
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"You saw something in him that I didn't. You wanted to see something better in him."
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"I wanted to see my dad. My dad who...God, I remember he drove four hours, all the way to Philadelphia to get me that stupid play kitchen when I was six. It was all I wanted, and he got it for me. I remember him brushing out my hair when I played softball and it was all knotted up from the pigtail braids. And all that time, all that fucking time he was a murderer, Kurt. He was a murderer when I was six, he was a murderer..." She covers her face then, elbows on the bar top as she just cries.
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"Why are you doing this to yourself?" He asks her quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you should have seen something. Maybe. You didn't. You see more good in people than I do. I don't know what's better, or worse. Beating the shit out of yourself doesn't fix anything, Sarah."
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"I've been thinking a lot about that night you blew up at me, you know? And you were right. You give, and you give. You've been giving everything you have since you were ten, and no one..." She trails off, blinking quickly and swallowing hard, looking down. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you were alone, this entire time."
She doesn't mean physically alone, he knows she's always been there for him, but not in the ways she should have been. "But I'm here now. I'm with you, Kurt. You don't have to keep carrying this by yourself."
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"Sarah," his voice is firm, but gentle. "I wouldn't have had it any other way. If it meant you were safe, and happy, I'd do whatever it took."
But he knows she has his back. He just hates that she's in this much pain now.
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"I love you, Kurt. And I don't know what I would have ever done without you."
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"That goes both ways." He hugs her in return, closing his eyes for a moment. "Love you, too."
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"Do you have any memories of mom?" She doesn't, she doesn't remember her at all. She doesn't even know why she's asking, other than she's just drunk, and thinking of old things.
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"Not a lot," he tells her quietly. "What do you wanna know?"
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Sarah wets her lips and shakes her head a little, staring out and across to the other side of the bar, looking at nothing.
"I just wanted to know if you could ever remember a time when anyone in our family was ever happy."
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"When Taylor was alive."
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Everything in their family came crashing down when their dad murdered Taylor, only they didn't know that then, that he'd killed her, buried her, and lied. Over and over again, he'd lied.
"I'm so..." She rubs her hands up and down her face. "I'm tired, Kurt. I'm so tired."
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