█ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ "ᶠᵃᵏᵉ ᵃˢˢ ᵇᶤᵗᶜʰ" ᴍᴜʀᴅᴏᴄᴋ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fogwells) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-08-12 08:22 pm
fogwells) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-08-12 08:22 pm
( open ) sometimes i need the dark so i can see the light
who: Matt Murdock
what: Matt forgets he's been blind, experiencing it for the first time all over again.
when: August 12th or anytime during the Amnesia event
where: (closed) His apartment, (open) SkyTram or anywhere really
warnings: some accidental cuts, a lot of emotional pain
Because all is dark.
His breath quickens, panic swelling in the core of his chest as his heart pounds with deeper anxiety. He can't see. He hears footsteps like they're against his ears and miles away all at once, sirens go off from every direction, vibrations of movement echoing from all sides. But he can't see.
He rubs hard at his eyes, but it's futile effort. Everything is dark, dark, as if all the light in the world had been swallowed away in a single beat. He reaches out for something to grab, his balance more sensitive than it's ever been, his palm pressing flat against the wall to keep himself from tipping over. Lips quiver as he tries to look at his surroundings in a desperate frenzy. Everything black, black, black —
No, not black. Red? Is this hell, he thinks. And he's so sure it should be. Somehow he's so sure of a thousand mistakes he's made, mistakes he can't remember but that he's somehow confident exists. If this is hell, he belongs here, the fire a perfect setting for a devil like him.
Finally, he screams, his voice as loud as it can go, somehow even louder in his own ears than he remembers himself capable. ]
Help! Is someone — someone, help! I can't — [ His breath catches in his throat, his fists banging against the wall, the vibrations of the connection between fist and plaster pounding at his ears. ] I can't see ...
Clutching tighter to his cane, he remains mostly still in his seat, head bent down to keep his ears out, trying to get a sense of his location. But everything moves too fast, too much is happening all at once for him to focus on anything at all.
He takes a deep breath, teeth chewing subtly at his bottom lip before he tries to find composure. Turning his body, he can make out a vague shape of a person sitting nearby, a red haze forming the silhouette of them. ] Excuse me. Do you know where we are?
He paces sidewalks, enters in and out of buildings, with no real direction, no real motive, other than keeping his ears open to the overwhelming sounds around him in an attempt to filter them one by one. And he'll continue to walk, pacing endlessly, at least until someone can stop him in his steps. ]
what: Matt forgets he's been blind, experiencing it for the first time all over again.
when: August 12th or anytime during the Amnesia event
where: (closed) His apartment, (open) SkyTram or anywhere really
warnings: some accidental cuts, a lot of emotional pain
I █ (closed to jessica jones) APARTMENT[ The glass shatters. He feels shards propel against his bare feet, sharp edges cutting against the top layer of skin. The pain amplifies there more than it should, but it isn't at the center of his mind.
Because all is dark.
His breath quickens, panic swelling in the core of his chest as his heart pounds with deeper anxiety. He can't see. He hears footsteps like they're against his ears and miles away all at once, sirens go off from every direction, vibrations of movement echoing from all sides. But he can't see.
He rubs hard at his eyes, but it's futile effort. Everything is dark, dark, as if all the light in the world had been swallowed away in a single beat. He reaches out for something to grab, his balance more sensitive than it's ever been, his palm pressing flat against the wall to keep himself from tipping over. Lips quiver as he tries to look at his surroundings in a desperate frenzy. Everything black, black, black —
No, not black. Red? Is this hell, he thinks. And he's so sure it should be. Somehow he's so sure of a thousand mistakes he's made, mistakes he can't remember but that he's somehow confident exists. If this is hell, he belongs here, the fire a perfect setting for a devil like him.
Finally, he screams, his voice as loud as it can go, somehow even louder in his own ears than he remembers himself capable. ]
Help! Is someone — someone, help! I can't — [ His breath catches in his throat, his fists banging against the wall, the vibrations of the connection between fist and plaster pounding at his ears. ] I can't see ...
II █ (open) SKYTRAM[ His ears pop, again and again, as the bullet car rushes fast along the tracks. The shaking of the rails are the most prominent sound he can catch, making it difficult to focus on anything else. But he does catch voices, a muttering here and there from any seat in this car, and several in others too, he's convinced.
Clutching tighter to his cane, he remains mostly still in his seat, head bent down to keep his ears out, trying to get a sense of his location. But everything moves too fast, too much is happening all at once for him to focus on anything at all.
He takes a deep breath, teeth chewing subtly at his bottom lip before he tries to find composure. Turning his body, he can make out a vague shape of a person sitting nearby, a red haze forming the silhouette of them. ] Excuse me. Do you know where we are?
III █ (open) WILD CARD[ He can't keep still in his apartment. Taking his cane that he's already had in his possession for reasons unknown, he wanders through the streets, trying to make sense of his lack of his sight. He's blind, but somehow, not entirely, able to make out shapes in burning red hues, but struggling to decipher the what and how of it all.
He paces sidewalks, enters in and out of buildings, with no real direction, no real motive, other than keeping his ears open to the overwhelming sounds around him in an attempt to filter them one by one. And he'll continue to walk, pacing endlessly, at least until someone can stop him in his steps. ]
II
Honestly, he wasn't sure. So much was going on and everyone seemed to have... someone. Back home, that is. Sure, he knew they relied on him and he on them, but it wasn't the same, was it? And if he was here and they weren't, didn't that say something?
He was lost in thought before he heard someone talking to him, blinking up and seeing a guy in red shades and-- oh. A red-tipped cane. Right.]
Ah, hold on. Just a sec.
[He stood, hand held out to the guy in a 'stay' motion before he realized how futile that was. Habit, he supposed. But he looked up at the map available on the tram, then at the blinking indicator that showed where they were on it.]
Yeah, yeah. We're just coming up into the shopping district. You need a hand getting somewhere?
[Not like he had anything better to do than ogle the city. And the guy looked borderline stressed at the moment. It's the least he could do, really.]
no subject
He does see the motion of the man's hand, but he doesn't react to it, still so unsure of how accurate these shapes really were. Because darkness was still the primary color, or absence of it, in his eyes, and everything else, the hazy fires that came and went remained unreliable.
Despite his earlier panic, he'd had the chance to collect his appearance since then, a calmness in his expression as if the panic had never been there at all.
He gives the man a polite smile, nodding slightly. ] Mostly just getting off. I feel like I've been stuck on here for hours. I should have been a little better prepared.
no subject
[The calm was better. The last thing he needed was someone blind panicking and Jensen having no clue what to do to help them. He smiled, which Matt couldn't see, but maybe he could hear it. He'd heard that people could hear when you smiled, even over the phone. Jensen was usually smiling when he talked. Kind of his natural state of being.]
I'm Jensen. Jake Jensen. Guess the rank doesn't apply here anymore, so fuck it.
no subject
[ A few weeks. He's well aware he's been in this city for all that time and yet — why was it all so unclear? Why couldn't he remember the sights, the visuals of everything he'd seen during that time? Had going blind meant losing all memories of the things he had once seen? ]
Matthew. Matt Murdock. [ Matt holds his hand up, offering it in the air in an off-center direction towards Jensen. ] Um, I'm sorry — rank?
no subject
Yeah, military. Captain, but we were a specialized unit, so it's not like that came up much. Not a lot of mingling with civvies in the jungle, you know? The, ah, orientation board or whatever says they might set me up with the perimeter guard here. You got any idea what it is we're supposed to be guarding against? Any giant monkeys or moths or something?
no subject
[ Matt takes note of the note regarding whether or not it still applies. He knows there's a possibility that it doesn't, knowing that titles can shift and change when crossing borders, especially when this was a border he knew very little about in regards to location.
But even his own title was gone, wondering just how long it'd been since the last time he was considered a paralegal. ]
I'm afraid I'm still a little vague on the details myself. Still just trying to get used to the transportation.
no subject
Jesus. Ain't that a kick in the pants, huh? Multiple worlds?