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Jack Benjamin COURT Unseelie. TITLE Description. OCCUPATION Brothel owner. ABLE TO FAST-TRAVEL No. RESIDENCE IN 2,701 Mair. RESIDENCE IN 2,702 Mair. MAJOR EVENTS HIGHLIGHT Description [ ✖ ] HIGHLIGHT Description [ ✖ ] HIGHLIGHT Description [ ✖ ]

PLANS After the destruction of Caer Scima, Jack will be spending the first half of the timeskip year becoming a formal officer in the Unseelie military and getting his brothel up to par. On a more personal level, he will spend the first half of the year largely in a downward spiral, and the last half picking himself back up again. SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS Advancement in the Unseelie military. Becoming a successful business owner. Learning blood magic. TIMELINE OF EVENTS SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May) MARCH - He knows a place where people can come keep warm. APRIL 15 - Smashing some fucking harps. (Anger and lust to play a role.) May - There's gold in them thar birds. Jack will hunt the swans once he hears about the profit in them.. SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug) June - Jack will attend the joust still wondering if this is his real life. Maybe some "fun" during the nights of it. Possibly a mistake.* July - Jack will clash with some anti-shardbearers and be pulled away from this fight by Johnny Storm, leaving a burn around Jack's wrist as a result. August -This is Jack's turning point. Attends the festival of lights. FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov) September - Miscommunications. October - Samhain. Jack just fine in the darkness...until he starts thinking too much about his dead lover.* November -BOUNTY HUNTING. Also his birthday month. Let's party. WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb) December -Yule. January - February -So much for the arts. SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr) March -Knockin' some skeleton block off. April -Good riddance to the imps, that's what he says.

( codes by whambam )

Comments

SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May)

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March - The Wings of Winter - Mair

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[It was less of a concern at first. The ice and snow came, but it was nice and warm inside the brothel, with plenty of body heat and alcohol to fight the winter at their doors. It almost seemed promising, from a business point of view. They were a warm beacon in a frigid world.

A few days in and now Jack's pacing the floors. The cabin fever is already setting in, and it makes him feel trapped, like he might as well be back in Shiloh serving out his sentence. The girls are huddled around the fireplace, legs tucked underneath them and skin that's normally bared is covered up for now. They have enough wood, maybe, thanks to those floorboards that he's had taken up during the brothel's repairs. Sweet Kyrianna found him a cloak, wrapped him in it and pressed a mug of hot, weak tea into his hand. Thanks to the false warmth that it provided, their alcohol supplies were running low, and who knows when the next delivery would be.

Jack stops pacing to look outside the window, his expression unreadable as he looks at a few people standing knee-deep in the snow. Visitors to Mair, maybe, trapped in place when the snows came so suddenly. People kicked out of other establishments when their pockets ran dry. Their deaths would be slow but certain out there. The girls probably weren't judging him - what right would they have? But they're all looking at him when he turns to face them, their eyes the colors of grass and sky and honey. Everything but the white of the world that exists outside.]

They're not coming in.

[No one asked him in they could, but he says it anyway. Jack feels the expectation of it, not just the Court order, but from a moral standpoint too. He snorts at it, shakes his head and starts to pace again. He has his priorities, and they include himself and this establishment. It's even more important than he realized. He can't just go letting the riff-raff in every time the rain gets a little heavy on the roof.

But no one will want to visit a brothel with frozen corpses stacked outside of it.

Jack finally stops, letting his head hang back for a moment. He wipes a hand over his face, gives Kyrianna a nod to beckon her over. He lowers his voice to just the two of them.]

Shut the rooms off to conserve the heat. Everyone stays in here. Pull the linens from the bed and make more of the tea. Other than that, no one drinks or touches anything without paying first. [Let them in. That instruction goes unspoken, but she smiles and understands it anyway. Jack grabs her arm when she starts to hurry off, and presses the mug back into her hand.]

And drink this. You'll need it.

[fulminants]

[ Johnny doesn't tell Jack that he's coming; he doesn't see the point of it when he can be saving all that time to doing something productive, like traveling to where he's heard Jack's taken over. The news of it had been buzzing about Mair, which curiously seems to be a little less affected than the rest of the place.

Make no mistakes, it looks like it's still taking its lumps, but compared to the rest of the spires, this seems almost semi-habitable. Still, he doesn't envy its residents, and he spares some time to approach houses, to offer to warm their homes and light the fires of the hearth, getting it burning.

He'd been doing work like that these days, bringing in wood, moving blankets where needed and making sure items like that didn't catch fire in his hold (always complicated, that). He makes a few detours, helps out homes, establishments; people are afraid, and people are freezing, and he's sure that not even the natives had prepared for such a bitter winter.

Talk about a mood-killer.

Johnny comes out of the fifth home in two hours; he'd helped them with insulation, then heated up their home with his own body heat and his fire before he'd left -- this should help keep them going for quite awhile yet, right? Johnny likes Mair, he likes it enough to help out however he can; because he's actually more than slightly invested in the fact that this shining little jewel of a town has been responsible for a good number of great times after the war.

(A man's got to have his ways of coping, right?)

It's deep in the night when Johnny finally manages to get to the brothel; he'd been pointed to it by a grateful family who almost had their little girl succumbing to the cold until he came by, and he pushes through the door, past the men who are looking for more than just warmth -- warm bodies, too, probably. He looks past the sea of grimy faces, pretty faces, searching out just the one: the owner.

He finds him soon enough, in time to see him push a mug into a beautiful young woman's hand -- he doesn't hear what he says, but he knows enough of that gesture to know that it is a kindness. And kindness from Jack isn't exactly common. He's been privy to quite a few moments of it, but never like this, and he has to pause for a moment before he comes up to him.

Johnny gives Kyrianna a wink, before turning his attention to Jack. He's different now, Johnny notices; responsibility looks pretty good on him. The fire in the fireplace roars brighter, hotter, as if in response to Johnny's proximity, and he's grinning, blue eyes alight with teasing. No one drinks or touches anything without paying first, huh? ]

Not even me, Jack?

[benumbing]

Just when I thought it couldn't possibly get worse.

[But it could. Jack hasn't been out there, he doesn't know how lucky they really are in Mair, to be under Ganondorf's protection and spared the worst of it.

That said, a man who burst into flames in the middle of a winter storm is a welcome sight. Jack looks him up and down for a few moments before turning. The man sitting in the chair closest to the fire is promptly evicted.]

No one saw you come in, did they?

April - Harps - Mair & other places

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[He's glad that the damned winter is over with. The cold couldn't even be called an inconvenience back in Shiloh, where his apartments were always warm, where the pools were always heated. Where he always had company to keep him warm.

It's been a few months, a handful. He runs a business that provides company, but he's had none himself. Jack is stubborn, emotional, and he has both fought and surrendered when it comes to self-preservation. But that doesn't mean he's stupid. His situation will always feel precarious until he's proven himself enough.

He's learning control.

Until that first day in April when he starts to struggle with it. It happens the first time Jack hears it, less like music and more like the violent strumming of strings, harsh enough to make them break. He wishes they would, but the music only goes away when it's replaced by the harsh sound of Jack's breathing, the pounding of his heart. He breathes in and he hates his father with a viciousness that good men would never understand; he exhales and he misses Joseph so much that it's a physical ache in his chest.

And always with an undercurrent of paranoia, something that sometimes drives to seek an outlet elsewhere. But wherever he is, Jack never knows if he wants to bloody someone's mouth or claim it.]

some alley in mair...

[wipedclean]

[When the music begins, he's overwhelmed with emotions, some he understands and many he doesn't. All he knows is he is angry and it hurts.

He's angry at what's been done to him, at who he is, at what he can't remember no matter how hard he tries.

Steve would want to help, but the first thought of Steve makes him want to start running. Steve... makes him feel too many things he doesn't understand, that he can't put into words, that he can't even begin to face.

So he does run. He gets up and leaves and goes to Mair, because it's close, because it's familiar, because it's so not Steve that maybe he won't have to think about him there.

The music lulls and stops and he feels calmer, more stable, but he doesn't trust himself. Though he's already memorized the city, he walks the streets of Mair without direction.

He pauses when he hears a fight coming from an alley. He... remembers...

He rushes down the alley and stops dead when he finds there's no small blond being pummeled by another man.

It's Jack.

He's startled for a moment, but then steps forward and grabs Jack by the back of his coat, intending to pull him away from the brawl.]

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[It's not some scrappy blond getting the shit kicked out of him this time. Jack is the one doing the kicking, driven by a violent string accompaniment. He's aiming one for the man's head when he's suddenly hauled back, spinning and ready to take on this newest contender.]

James.

[Jack stares at him, panting and wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. Bucky has only seen him with smiles and slick words before. He's disappointed that he's seeing him like this now.

You know, acting a little bit more the way he really feels.]

[boutant]

[ She's not sure which of the more overpowering emotions has really driven her to Mair. Paranoia, the overwhelming feeling that something is Going On right under her nose, that deals are being broken or made without her, that her contacts are turning the tables -- or affection, the love she has for the Drabwurld, the fitted costume waiting for her in a shop because Steve had joked that he'd like to see her in a nurse's outfit. Affection drives her to buy the dress; paranoia drives her to slink invisibly through the alleys with it in a bag, one hand on her knife.

It's respite that she seeks when she sees the brothel, the name recognizable; she drops the concealment magic as she steps toward the door, visibly unnerving the man keeping an eye on it. For a moment, the music seems to stop; she's able to strum up her own control, one of many parts she has to play in the Drabwurld. ]

Tell the proprietor, [ affection again; he's smart, Jack, and he makes her laugh even if that's not always his goal, ] that he has a visitor. You know my name. [ And paranoia; she is a Baroness and the regulator of Mair's brothels, but she won't give her name and her hand hasn't left her knife.

She shakes her head, tries to clear the music away, and sinks down in a chair. ]

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[She's come. Jack's been waiting for this moment, expecting it for weeks now. He doesn't keep her waiting.]

Your timing couldn't be more perfect. [And that is the actual factual truth. The announcement of her arrival gave him some much needed silence. Jack's smiling, offering his arm to her.]

The best seat in the house is yours. Though some might say that that honor goes to me if I'm sitting beside you.

[fulminants]

[ Winter is over, and Johnny's settling into his new position as captain of the unseelie special unit; Saber was working him hard, and Johnny was doing plenty of working on his own, too. He had only gotten to see Jack on occasion, dropping by when he was on the way to somewhere else, flirting with the girls and teasing Jack, or spending half an hour or so on a couple of drinks and easy conversation with Jack all the same.

They're friends, even if some of the things Jack says and does unsettles him. But he takes it in stride all the same, because there's something about Jack's company that's compelling, his particular brand of humor that Johnny takes to easily, drawn to him before he even knew it.

April intensifies everything, strangely enough; what with the inexplicable sound of harps and Johnny's eventual realization that his emotions were amplified. Harps, what the hell? He could never find out where the music came from, can't know for sure that the sound of it is somehow linked to his mood swings, his willingness to be more violent, more reckless, a lot more out of control, like wildfire raging through the forest, igniting everything in sight, blazing through and leaving scorched earth in his wake.

He doesn't understand it; it's as if a switch had been flicked inside him, a sudden lack of inhibitions makes him bold, aggressive, cocky; because here he is in the brothel, openly flirting with Kyrianna and Aslynn both while he waits for Jack, his own agitation and restlessness a pit of fire that burns in his stomach, his chest.

Fuck the harps, he has more important things to play with. (But they don't satisfy him; he wants more.) ]

[benumbing]

[Johnny is the last person he needs to see.

He jokes, often, about how irritating Johnny's company is. It started out as the truth, because Jack couldn't figure him out, this bad boy with his good boy ways. He still can't, but he's developed an appreciation for this man who does and says whatever he wants without much thought for the consequences.

Maybe it rubbed off on Jack. Maybe Johnny is to blame and wouldn't that be convenient.]

Leave us. [And as much as the girls enjoy Johnny's tricks and flirtations, Jack is the boss. He sits down at the table once they're gone, tilting his head at the other man.] Don't you ever get your fill of that?

April, 2701 - Harp wrap-up.

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[The harp music is delicate, beautiful. There's a reason they're stereotypically the instruments of angels. But to Jack, they're grating, worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. They're more the reason he can't sleep than a lullaby. When he does sleep, he finds them there too, and his frustration is with him from the moment he opens his eyes.

He doesn't just endure it. Tonight, Jack follows it, until he finds the harp responsible. The closer he gets, the harsher the strumming of the strings, until it sounds more like madness than music. The instrument's shadow stretches across the floor, making it look like a huge, reaching thing. But when Jack reaches it, the harp itself is...disappointingly small. He stares at it, unimpressed with the shiny ebony wood and dark strings.]

You ruined everything.

[That's how it feels, because he was keeping his secret so well. More than that, Jack acted out on friends. Allies. Now they're never look at him the same way again.

Jack steps on it like it's an insect, and there's a satisfying crunch that stops the music once and for all.]

SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug)

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Yᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ - July - Johnny

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[He's not far from Daonna, or at least he's not far enough. The dozen myseriously murdered Shardbearers is the only topic of conversation in this bar tonight, and most of its occupants? They're in full support of it.

Jack refuses to be intimidated, just sits at the bar and pretends to care about nothing other than the burn of alcohol on his tongue. But he's aware of the eyes on him. He hears it when the natives complain about these foreigners from other worlds, with their powers and their war that's done nothing but wreck havoc for centuries. These people have lost land and loved ones. Jack should be more sympathetic; he's not.

It's war and that's what war does, and he doesn't think there's any peace treaty to be had between the two Courts. He didn't exactly ask to come here either, but now that he is he's not inclined to be cowed by the people who just happened to be here first. So when a guy comes to the bar to order, maybe the nudge that Jack gets in the process is accidental. Jack laughs softly and places his glass down.

Yes, an accident. Just like it's an accident when Jack throws a punch right at the man's jaw.]

[fulminants]

[ Johnny finds him, and it's no accident. He'd spent the entirety of April and May steadfastly avoiding any and every mention of him since the kiss -- Johnny was not proud of it, or the way he hadn't wanted to deal with it, wanting to dismiss it as an accident, something that was caused by the harps. (But then it was only a kiss, right? A couple of them, at most; water under the bridge. Or so he tells himself.)

But then he'd started to miss him, and he'd tried to reach out in June, thanks to a couple of earfuls he'd gotten from concerned parties -- only to be rebuffed, time and time again. Johnny knew, then, that Jack hadn't forgotten either. If nothing else, Jack's still a friend, and Johnny liked him a lot (and maybe a little more than he should, even if everyone else saw that but himself).

He'd turned up again at the brothel, only to be told by Kyrianna that he wasn't there. Only her tone was different, worried, even, and she told him where he would be. Mentioned something else, too; that Jack had been hitting the bottle particularly hard during the past few weeks, and had asked if anything had happened the last time they'd met.

Johnny just smiles and sets off for the bar. He comes in just in time to see Jack moving to descend like a wolf on another, and he doesn't need to be a rocket scientist to read the mood in the bar -- the anti-shardbearer sentiment had been rising rapidly these days, and it was clear from the look of it that it was probably another of those things.

He doesn't think when he moves quickly, because that punch will be the spark that lights this entire powder keg up (a testament to his growth as a person because the Johnny Storm four months ago wouldn't have given a shit). He grabs a firm hold of Jack's wrist before the punch can connect, holding on tight. ]

Jack, no!

FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov)

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Saimhain Costume

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An executioner. All black with a cowl. A few spikes and a curved axe to make it all the more menacing. Underneath the cowl his eyes are ringed with black make-up.

The last night of Samhain.

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[Jack has never been one for virgins, male or female. He's not looking to corrupt innocence - a part of him fears getting that close to it, like it could best him the way that good always won in his sister's fairy tale books, light over darkness and that sort of thing. Jack was attracted to minds and bodies and souls as filthy as his own.

Johnny Storm is a curious mixture of both. For all his wild nights with women, it's obvious he's never been with a man. Jack can tell the way his hands expect curves when they move over him. But his mouth stays open and hungry against Jack's, and when he reaches down to redirect those hands, they learn quickly.

He gave the girls these nights off to find their own pleasures, so they have the brothel pretty much to themselves. Jack pushes him against the hallway wall, lets his mouth travel along the warm skin of Johnny's throat, smiling a predator's smile against it when he pulls a moan from deep within him. He continues herding him to his rooms at the back; something falls and breaks along the way, and Jack doesn't care. Once they're through the door, he's on him more than ever, pushing him to the bed and crawling on top of him, breathless and half-hard, his eyes dark as he looks down at him.]

If you're going to change your mind, do it now.

[Because if Johnny decides to bolt after Jack's given him a rare taste of what it's like to be inside him? There's gonna be trouble.]

[fulminants]

[ He's sure they'd broken a few things on the way there. Bottles, candle-holders, and he doesn't care when Jack kisses him like he's the only thing that matters, and Johnny is surging back against him, all heated passion and raging desire, fueled by the revelry of the party and the alcohol that they taste endlessly in each other's mouths.

Johnny's inexperienced with a man but he's eager to learn, trying to figure Jack out even as he's aware of the delicate way Jack shows him how he wants him. He's just gotten used to the lack of curves, adjusted his expectations -- yes, he's with a man; that no matter how intoxicating Jack's kiss is, he isn't with a woman, there are no breasts pressing up invitingly against his chest, and yet, he finds that he doesn't mind.

He doesn't mind at all, because it's Jack that rouses the fire, and he doesn't remember how they actually got here, not when his mind is full of the other man that nothing else matters. He feels the breath knocked out of him when Jack pushes him down, and he doesn't catch it for a few more moments when he stares up at him. He's hard, yes, and he doesn't know how the hell he's going to fuck a guy but he's sure that Jack's right about to guide him around the curves (so to speak).

Johnny wants him, that much is obvious -- this is new ground, and his hand moves to grasp the back of his head, his eyes meeting his steadily. He's determined, his own eyes stained almost black with need, and his lips part before he leans up and pulls him down at the same time, their mouths meeting halfway, hungry and hot. ]

You kissed me here the first time. I remember.

[ Johnny Storm isn't running away from this again. ]

happy birthday, jack benjamin.

[fulminants]

[ You really didn't think he'd do it this way, did you, Jack? Johnny remembers his birthday, and because he's not one to go back on his word -- also because Ariadne had pretty much suffered too much of his singing for Johnny to give up now, or she will really kill him -- this is Johnny Storm outside Devour, directly under Jack's window with a ukulele.

He hasn't forgotten, and he's sure that he's calling Jack out on his dare -- he doesn't do things half-assed, after all, and this is all in good fun, right? Johnny is bold, fun-loving, his growing infatuation for the prince and his friend inspiring him to do something ridiculously playful and light-hearted amidst all the things that are happening around them.

Let's make it a birthday to remember, Jack Benjamin.

He's strumming loudly on his ukulele, obnoxiously, loudly singing a lively little song: ]

Your lips they stain the front lobe of my left side brain,
I knew I wouldn't forget you,
And so I went and let you blow my mind,
Your sweet moonbeam,
The smell of you in every single dream I dream,
I knew when we collided you're the one I have decided,
Who's one of my kind.

Hey Mr Benjamin, ain't that sister sister on the radio, stereo,
The way you move ain't fair you know,
Hey Mr Benjamin, I don't wanna miss a single thing you do tonight.

I'm so obsessed, my heart is bound to beat
Right out my untrimmed chest
I believe in you, and I'm always gonna wanna blow your mind.

[ Also he might be wearing eyeliner, but it's Ariadne's fault. So. ]

[benumbing]

[It's really hard to describe Jack's face in words when Johnny strums that ukulele and starts to sing. There's surprise, a touch of disgust - he's embarrassed for you, Johnny. Amusement is there too, and his eyes are a little fonder than he realizes.

The girls, though...the girls are thoroughly enjoying it.

Jack leans against his window frame, like some Shakespearean star-crossed lover, and when Johnny finishes-]

Is that it? [As unimpressed as he can possibly look and sound without being mistaken for dead.] You promised me a song and then give me one that someone else wrote with only a sad little word or two changed? And with a ukulele. I might never get hard again, plus I'm insulted. You'd better be coming in here with a real gift, Storm.

[Jack closes the window, but he's smiling at Johnny through the glass.]

WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb)

[benumbing]

yule.

[fulminants]

[ 12pm outside of Mair, and Johnny waits for him there. On his middle finger is the ring Jack has given him, glittering like fire in the light; and he's dressed light for winter, a long-sleeved white shirt and leather trousers, boots to complete the look. He wears a cloak, more for show than for warmth, and is carrying a large basket of food.

He's in a good mood today, and he grins at Jack when he sees him. ]

Merry Christmas. Thanks for your gifts. [ He's oddly touched by the thoughtful gesture, and he may have spent half the way in the room basking in everything. And maybe playing with the toy cars. He's missed modernities. ]

We good to go?

[benumbing]

[Jack's wearing the coat that he sent him, though he knows Johnny worries about burning him far more than Jack worries about it. He'd told him that it's just a risk to be taken. He takes it of his own free will.

But it does look good on him.]

I could say the same to you. [Which is Jack's way of doing it. He stops, letting his eyes travel over Johnny, admiring him for a moment.] Where are we going?

SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr)

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