Jacob Frye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
relentlessness) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2019-02-08 01:23 pm
relentlessness) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2019-02-08 01:23 pm
A Shadow from the Darkness
WHO: Jacob Frye
WHERE: South village
WHEN: First two weeks of February
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Will updated as needed
WHERE: South village
WHEN: First two weeks of February
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Will updated as needed
This adventures was only real to my eyes - Open, post event, random village things, choose your own adventure
The last few months have been a swirling emotional mess in Jacob's head, second only to the fact that he's done little to nothing to truly care for himself as he should. Living mostly constantly on the go, rarely crashing in the house that Evie had first taken when she arrived, finding himself more likely to perch on roof tops, or steal a few hours sleep in a chair by the fire in the Inn than to try and find true sleep. He likes to believe it keeps him on edge, keeps him at the ready, but the truth of the matter is, it only allows him to pretend everything is okay and ignore the emotions that he's not great at handling.
Ignoring the growing acceptance of Evie's loss, at best back to London, at worse captured or dead somewhere. Accepting it isn't the same as coping with it, just as he's not coping with New Year's Eve, waking to most he has come to consider "his" gone, or seeing Altair wounded and worrying about what could happen if things here took another downward turn. Coping mechanisms are obviously for losers in Jacob's mind.
Running on exhaustion, bitter cold, and the numbness of ignoring your pain is apparently the best coping mechanisms. That and at least looking damn good while you do it. At least feeling more himself with trousers like he had back home, his waistcoat to wear over the variety of hoodies he received and his newsie cap in place. That there's a malachite handled kukri on his hips, beneath the heavy woolen coat, is helping him with feeling more secure. At least physically.
I should be heading somewhere - Woods around South Village
Every now and again he disappears into the woods, testing the treetops and learning a new way to climb and run. Natural and trained skills kick into play, though there are times that he loses his footing, scrambling to catch himself before falling too far. The frustration from that sends him out there more often, refusing to let failure slow him down, that chip on his shoulder he'd thought he left behind in childhood, before London, getting a little bit bigger and heavier in those days.
One of the falls comes from a broken branch. The first limb he hits sends pain through his side. The second through he feels nothing even as the branch snaps. Grabbing another, catching himself, righting himself and realizing something is different. He's heard talk of the abilities some possess, seemingly all of them, but he's not seen it in action on his own body. Whacking his wrist against the trunk and watching as bark flies away from the force, he can't help but smile. Glancing up, he begins his climb. Perhaps it won't be so much a leap of faith when he merely has to have have faith in this ability, but at least in that moment he has faith in something with all he's been trying to avoid in his life.
Looking back at myself - Off Color, around the village, dojo, river
Jacob notices the change in his wrist device first. The new color is certainly a bit off putting, though he supposed virulent pink is likely never to be an assassin's colors, but it isn't at first that he notices the difference. Training more often, and not in the fun, troubling ways he might often even in the village.
Going for runs, training at the dojo, even taking swims in the freezing cold of the river, all trying to keep his body in perfect shape, a honed weapon as he had been trained as a child. Those memories seemingly rising above the rest, giving him a bitter respite from the emotions he's tried to keep buried as to not cause trouble between himself and those he cares about, and now it's easy to give over to the strict training of his youth, and the code driven into his head.
Pushing himself to be the best assassin he can be, to study and learn and stay to the code his father had drilled in to them.
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She moans when he presses up against her, agreeing that this is most likely to be better in a bed. She's in further agreement when he takes her breath away with a kiss and she almost gets weak in the knees from it. Usually this is the point where she'd just climb up his body and wrap her legs around him, but that defeats the purpose of getting out of there. Hawke can wait a few more minutes, or so she tells her body. Calm down. All in good time.
"Aren't you thoughtful," she murmurs in response, kissing him back each time. Her hand starts traveling down his chest to touch him but she stops because that's only likely to distract them more. "Stop kissing me or I'm going to throw you down on the ground, Jacob, bed be damned." Hawke smiles and steals one last kiss from him, catching her breath and trying to slow down her heart until they can get somewhere else.
"My house isn't far." Hawke takes his hand and threads their fingers together. "Where do you sleep if you don't have a home, love? Have you been bed hopping all this time?" It's not at all an accusation, it's amusing if that's the case. That's one way to spend your time here.
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Feeling so much more like himself than he has in weeks, knowing he doesn't have to let go of things to try and hold to who he truly is. A man who, among other things, definitely wants to hear that sound from her as often as he might. It is the sort of rumbling that goes straight through him, reminding Jacob of the delights of being unfettered and free.
"Also greedy, but let's call it thoughtful," he teases, grinning at her. "Not that you're helping me remember to be a gentleman when you talk like that," he says, his own voice rough with desire as he considers that, his fingers curling around hers as he lifts their hands to his mouth, kissing and nibbling at her knuckles.
"More like roof hopping," he says, chuckling. "If it had been the other, I would have been horribly remiss in not seeing to your needs first and foremost. Not that I will make that mistake again."
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She flicks his nose with her fingers playfully, stopping again and pulling him in for another heated kiss, not caring that they're still technically in public. The house isn't far but she can't be expected to resist her urges entirely. "Mmm, well, you can share my bed, and Reyes and I have a spare one as well, if you want nights to yourself." Hawke doubts Reyes will mind as long as they get their time together too. It is an easy friendship and share of lust they have. Reyes might even find Jacob attractive himself and suggest they share.
A question for later. For now, Hawke wants Jacob all to herself. It's a credit to her control she hasn't already started to muss their clothing. "We've just had weapons in there. It might very well be perfect for you." He liking weapons as much as she does.
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Drawing her in close though at that kiss, loving how playful she is. It's been some time since he's met someone that truly leaves him feeling matched in tone and attitude, but Hawke most certainly brings on that delight.
"How could I say no to that offer? A strong and amazing woman offering me her home and her company?" And it's true. Much as he's hemmed and hawed much over the idea of a room and finding a home with others, he realizes in this case he sees no reason to do so now. Even if and when his sister finally finds her way back, he suspects he may well find his way back to Hawke more often than not.
Knowing they should keep moving, but she's in his arms again and he is stealing small kisses before canting his head and nipping and nuzzling at her throat for a moment, his hands sliding down until his hands are cupping her ass and not caring that they're in public.
"We shall definitely work this out. I'm quite at home with weapons, after all,' he says, nipping lightly at her throat and then nuzzling just beneath her ear as he speaks.
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[and wrap?]