[ Warren makes his way back to John with the tray of food, the first for the day despite the later hour; John’s made it clear he’s fasting so while he’ll leave him with a couple of water bottles, this is today’s only meal. But he does have something else for today.
He’ll wait till John’s looking at him before he offers the book first. ]
[John takes a moment to move himself from his prayer position. He's stiff and aching, limping a bit as he picks up the bottles from the previous day to return them to Warren. However, when he looks over, he sees the white book, his white Bible, and just blinks at him.]
So you decided to remember.
[It's the most he's said in the three days to him and it's a little sarcastic, though he's grateful.]
You called it an indulgence. I thought it was, too. But - that isn't quite right.
[He pauses as he considers his next words, keeping his voice low.]
I'm not some homebred hick, conned into a cult, you know. I went to fucking Yale. I've seen the world. I know the world. I've done coke with senators who fucked pretty girls and told them their secrets. I read Kafka in a coffee shop and thought I was a great intellectual. I - learned to fly planes so I could always have a way to escape.
But.
None of it was enough. The work, the projects, the books, the movies, the coke, the booze, the sex, the constant need to be moving because if I sat still...I would have to face the truth.
It wasn't enough.
I was put here, as John the Baptist. That is what I thought my calling was. That was enough.
[ He steps a little closer, shaking his head, and he’s being earnest.]
I never thought that about you.
[ He nods to the last as well. ]
Purpose.
[ His own voice is quiet, but there’s something suffused into that single word that is so much more. If John was unsure if Warren had a faith, believed in anything, it’s right there. Purpose. What he needs more than $8000 ski trips or high end suits or high tech space ships. What makes him run.
He graduated because he clarified his purpose, distilled it from the anger and pain and hypocrisy it’d been steeped in. Not because he lost it. ]
[He nods. Purpose. And his hand goes to his chest. The sin is covered by his shirt, but just underneath - Sloth. His sloth was always giving into himself, rather than giving over to God. And his own faith might be a hypocrisy, or it might not. It's a convoluted thing, faith. He hates God, but hates that he hates Him. He wants to serve Him, but knows that the way he's doing is abhorrent.
John is absolutely certain that he is destined for Hell, but he thinks that everyone else will be joining him there one day.]
[ Warren frowns and leans lightly against the bars, keeping his voice low. ]
You see that? Is the part I don’t understand.
When I got here? My purpose was clear: cut away whatever it was? That made me fail. That made me die. That made me… unworthy of my purpose. And make sure? I would be a better, more effective servant when I left.
I thought I was here because I had been weak. Because I had indulged too much at home. So I tightened my grip on myself.
Restrictions can be freeing.
I sought to follow Joseph in all things. Even here. But the first chance I got - I deviated. You said I cut myself because I want to feel? No. I do it because every single thing I do here is a sin, Warren. But I still come back to it, making the same mistakes. Spiraling.
[John is a little more lax with Warren than he is with Lark. He lets his eyes close for a moment. He takes a breath and pulls himself back, withdrawing into the static. That question is difficult. And he wants to answer. He really does, but he did tell Carol he would ignore him.
This can't go well.]
I've told you about being a lawyer, but I've never told you about the Duncans.
[John keeps his eyes closed. Normally, this story is told with gleeful abandon, taunting with just the smallest amount of details.
This is a different story. He speaks like he's reciting from a book. It's the only way he can tell it.]
CPS took us from our parents when I was five. Jacob would protect me from our father's belt, from the drinking. But one night, Joseph, the prophet, heard the Voice. He told Jacob not to protect me, to let the belt fly.
My brothers were not in school. I was. So the teachers saw the marks. [He laughs a distant, bitter laugh.] The first set of parents we were sent to as a trio had us living in the barn. Working the farm. I remember - Jacob hitting the man with an axe and setting the barn on fire. He went to juvie after that.
As for Joseph and I? We were split. I was young. Cute face. Compliant. Adoptable. Joseph was not. So I became John Duncan and Joseph stayed behind.
And the Duncans were their own sort of hell. They were not happy unless I was confessing. If I was too quiet, I was sinning. If I was alone, I was sinning. I told them everything. Every thought. Every movement. Every impulse.
[Whatever they wanted to hear.]
And it was always - always sinful. And I was punished for it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Third day of Zero
He’ll wait till John’s looking at him before he offers the book first. ]
Re: Third day of Zero
So you decided to remember.
[It's the most he's said in the three days to him and it's a little sarcastic, though he's grateful.]
Re: Third day of Zero
You gave me reason to. I always remember… when I have a good reason.
Re: Third day of Zero
Re: Third day of Zero
Should I leave you to your prayers?
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But Warren had given him so much grief that he just has to ask.]
What is the reason?
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[ He tilts his head a little and steps closer. ]
I know the difference. Between filling the days? And getting back on track.
You thought about what I said. And immediately took steps.
I respect that.
cw: drug mention
You called it an indulgence. I thought it was, too. But - that isn't quite right.
[He pauses as he considers his next words, keeping his voice low.]
I'm not some homebred hick, conned into a cult, you know. I went to fucking Yale. I've seen the world. I know the world. I've done coke with senators who fucked pretty girls and told them their secrets. I read Kafka in a coffee shop and thought I was a great intellectual. I - learned to fly planes so I could always have a way to escape.
But.
None of it was enough. The work, the projects, the books, the movies, the coke, the booze, the sex, the constant need to be moving because if I sat still...I would have to face the truth.
It wasn't enough.
I was put here, as John the Baptist. That is what I thought my calling was. That was enough.
Re: cw: drug mention
I never thought that about you.
[ He nods to the last as well. ]
Purpose.
[ His own voice is quiet, but there’s something suffused into that single word that is so much more. If John was unsure if Warren had a faith, believed in anything, it’s right there. Purpose. What he needs more than $8000 ski trips or high end suits or high tech space ships. What makes him run.
He graduated because he clarified his purpose, distilled it from the anger and pain and hypocrisy it’d been steeped in. Not because he lost it. ]
no subject
John is absolutely certain that he is destined for Hell, but he thinks that everyone else will be joining him there one day.]
I do not have that here.
I have that at home.
no subject
You see that? Is the part I don’t understand.
When I got here? My purpose was clear: cut away whatever it was? That made me fail. That made me die. That made me… unworthy of my purpose. And make sure? I would be a better, more effective servant when I left.
That hasn’t changed.
no subject
I thought I was here because I had been weak. Because I had indulged too much at home. So I tightened my grip on myself.
Restrictions can be freeing.
I sought to follow Joseph in all things. Even here. But the first chance I got - I deviated. You said I cut myself because I want to feel? No. I do it because every single thing I do here is a sin, Warren. But I still come back to it, making the same mistakes. Spiraling.
no subject
'I don't have to be better. I just have to do penance.' 'I don't have to stop doing it. I just have to pay.'
And you're better than that.
It's why. you're spiraling.
[ He pauses and looks over at John, curious now. ]
How is everything a sin, John?
no subject
This can't go well.]
I've told you about being a lawyer, but I've never told you about the Duncans.
no subject
cw: child abuse
This is a different story. He speaks like he's reciting from a book. It's the only way he can tell it.]
CPS took us from our parents when I was five. Jacob would protect me from our father's belt, from the drinking. But one night, Joseph, the prophet, heard the Voice. He told Jacob not to protect me, to let the belt fly.
My brothers were not in school. I was. So the teachers saw the marks. [He laughs a distant, bitter laugh.] The first set of parents we were sent to as a trio had us living in the barn. Working the farm. I remember - Jacob hitting the man with an axe and setting the barn on fire. He went to juvie after that.
As for Joseph and I? We were split. I was young. Cute face. Compliant. Adoptable. Joseph was not. So I became John Duncan and Joseph stayed behind.
And the Duncans were their own sort of hell. They were not happy unless I was confessing. If I was too quiet, I was sinning. If I was alone, I was sinning. I told them everything. Every thought. Every movement. Every impulse.
[Whatever they wanted to hear.]
And it was always - always sinful. And I was punished for it.
Re: cw: child abuse
The context helps. But he wants to know more. So he gestures for John to continue. ]
no subject
Eventually, I knew exactly what to tell them, what they wanted to hear, to avoid it all.
But I deserved it. I sinned then. Just like I sinned now.
no subject
[ He's not saying you didn't. He's asking why. ]
no subject
[Spoken flatly.]
no subject
What is the purpose. of punishing you?
no subject
Ostensibly? To not do it again.
But we're lawyers. We know that's not how punishment really works.
no subject
[ But that's hardly the point. ]
So.
If you were always sinning. And they kept punishing you. And you deserved it.
What was the purpose?
no subject
I'm certain they thought they were doing the right thing.
no subject
[ He won't linger on that. ]
That doesn't address the purpose, though.
[ And without a purpose, it's empty. They've established that. ]
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