Waterfalls Who: Caspian Finn (Narrative) What: Reflection When: Thursday, March 7 - very late Where: His flat, Hell’s Kitchen, NY Rating: High - mentions of violence/murder Status: Complete
”But all the praying just ain't helping at all 'cause he can't seem to keep his self out of trouble. So, he goes out and he makes his money the best way he know how another body laying cold in the gutter.
Don't go chasing waterfalls
Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to. I know that you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all but I think you're moving too fast.”
The light in the small bathroom flickered. Up went the switch on the wall; while this building was newer the lights tended to be ornery, the plumbing was not always reliable. Caspian thought nothing of it. A breath escaped him. Muscles of his shoulders and back knitted with tension, they ached and yearned for relief.
Fingers gripped at the porcelain, cold and hard, white knuckled. He peered down at the pristine bowl marred with the touch of the chrome drain which offered a distorted reflection.
Caspian closed those blue eyes and stood there in the silence.
He didn’t understand how he had gotten to this point. His life had been a whirlwind of events - the birth of his child, the foray into the world of darkness which he’d been teetering on the edge of. He’d plummeted into the ether of the unknown and here he stood, ruler of an empire he’d never truly wanted any part of.
What was he really fighting for? What was the purpose of all of this? His part in the Revolution was slight. He was there when summoned but the rest was handled by those who dedicated themselves solely to the mission - whatever that was. Was there an end in sight? Or would blood stain his hands, drip through his fingers forever? What would Caitlyn say if she knew all of the things her Da had done? Would she find his list of accomplishments fitting? Would she be proud?
Being a monster was not something he had ever strove to be and yet that was what he had become. With all of the pleasantries at the conclusion of the evening what was left of his good will sank into the Earth with the sun. He knew what he was, not what he wanted to be, and he knew his place. He also knew that he was no longer happy with this life. The worst part was that because he was so ingrained, because his roots went so deep, he could never escape. The hole he had been digging his entire life would soon end up a grave one way or another. It was only a matter of time before he took the place of the corpse in the gutter. The wake of zombies and bodies he left would catch up to him.
His eyes opened slowly.
Caspian lifted his head, frame moved to straighten, and he looked at himself in the mirror. The man staring back at him was unfamiliar. Those cold blue eyes had seen many things, good and bad, but he didn’t recognize them. The color was wrong.
As if to distract himself he turned the sink on, the tap flooding the basin with cool water. He peered down at the waterfall. Hands went to it, twisting together in the spray with the task of distracting him from such thoughts. The water went off again and once more the bathroom was cold, quiet. A pink princess towel was taken from the place on the wall to his right next to the switch. Caspian dried his fingers, his palms. The towel was folded and hung back over the rung.
Robotically he turned. He began to exit the bathroom forgetting why he had ventured there in the first place.