Jett James Wilson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
itsmylife) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2014-02-25 02:05 pm
itsmylife) wrote in muserevival2014-02-25 02:05 pm
057.1. Muse prompt
"Sometimes
We'd never know what's wrong without the pain
Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same."
All At One, The Fray
It was ironic how the world could sometimes come in a full circles around you just when you were trying to make the right choices for you and those around you. Lately, Jett had been wondering more and more if there was, perhaps, a higher power at play pointing you in the right directions so fate could step in. The thing about that was that when people considered that theory, it was usually for positive gain... not negative loss. What if there was a fate, and what if the choices you were making were mapping out a much larger route to a life where you were just a mere blip on the system? Was he seriously just a code in some fucked up Matrix of life?
Yet again, as had become his place to think of late, he was perched up on a ledge of one of the highest buildings in New York City. There was a rooftop garden and pool behind him, but he wasn't there for a leisure, he was there to try to think. Sometimes, thinking wasn't an easy thing to do. But if he was honest with himself, he was here to grieve... and this time, it wasn't his own life he was grieving, but his amazing father's. Cupped in his palm, there was an older photo of him much younger with his mother and father, all sitting on the beach together in the sun. Life was supposed to have played with so much more happiness than it had. If fate existed, what sort of motherfucker was it to build someone's life to end like this?
It was night, and Jett was no longer human. He was Kindred, and he had a hunger thrumming through him that wasn't abating. He wasn't trying to put off feeding, but he was just trying to buy himself some time to let his whirring mind catch up with everything that had happened to him in the last year of his life. Or years, really. It had all started when his mother told him she had cancer and she had been so determined she would beat it, and quickly, that she hadn't wanted Jett's father deployed overseas with the Navy to know about it. So, Jett had just started to nurse her, but she got worse so quickly. She wasn't beating it, she was dying and that realisation had dawned on Jett no more than 6 and a half days before she succumbed to it.
He remembered the day like it was yesterday. She had been having a 'bad day', when really all her days were bad, but her 'bad days', as she put it, she wasn't functioning at all. He had to feed her, help her with the toilet, shower her... he was 15 years old. That evening, she had been lying in bed and told him she wanted to read to him like she did when he was a child. Clifford the Big Red Dog, it had been his favourite book right through. He had been lying there on the bed with her, his arm nursed around her shoulders, and she didn't even get through the book before she just seemed to go to sleep. When he realised she wasn't breathing, he broke down and just held her there in his arms, crying for hours on end before he called anyone to help him.
His father was never the same after that. There was no way he could be. He got the news from his superiors overseas and returned home to Sydney immediately. Not even knowing she had been sick had nearly ruined him, but all Jett had wanted to do was the right thing. It wasn't until he was much older that he realised in some circumstances, there was no real right thing. His father sunk into a deep depression and was discharged from the Navy, no longer capable of serving. That was when Jett vowed he would enlist in the military to fulfil his father's ambitions for him.
But everything just fucked up from there on. It had been an avalanche of shitty things happening on a rapid descent and he couldn't find his footing. Yes, he become a really good soldier. He was a good fighter, and he was a good protector. When his best friend, Luka, nearly got blown up from a suicide bomber and Jett had run in to pull him out of the direct line of the explosion, leaving Luka injured but alive, Jett realised just how fucking deep he was in. It was only a few short months later that he stepped on a landmine himself and although he just survived, he was left quadriplegic.
Agreeing to be Embraced was never the 'right' thing, he knew that. It was again one of those times where there was no right. He did it so he could have his body back. He couldn't survived having a healthy mind stuck in a paralysed body. If his Sire had never come to the hospital to offer him Embrace, he would have paid someone to give him an injection of something that he wouldn't wake up from. Either way, he would have to leave his father alone and had just hoped like fucking hell he would be okay once he grieved.
But his dad wasn't okay. It was just by chance on a phone call to the Brujah Primogen of Sydney that Jett found out that his father had died of a sudden massive heart attack. That was when he had realised Luka had come to New York to tell him that and to say goodbye to him, because Luka hadn't wanted to live either. Their life was supposed to be happy, yet it had just been painful blow after painful blow, and now here Jett was, in the wake of his best friend trying to commit suicide and his father dead from a heart attack after losing his beloved mother years ago to cancer.
The photo was crushed in his fist, obscuring the view of his one-time happy little family, and he broke down. He was alone, so the tears of blood streaming down his face would be only his own burden and no one else's. Because this was Jett, and his re-awaken life now was one of a Protector. He wasn't here for himself, and he knew he had never been. Every choice and every decision had been for the people he loved, and that was never going to change. But it hurt. It hurt so much and the pain was burning inside him over failing Luka and losing his parents.
He missed them. He missed them so much, and he had known he would never be able to see his father again after he was Embraced, but that didn't make any of this easier. Maybe even, it made it harder. Being a Protector didn't meant you didn't feel the pain. On the contrary, it meant you felt the pain of everyone you loved and it amplified your own. He sat there, alone, high above from the chaos of the City That Never Sleeps and he let himself break, because whether he was ready to admit it or not, inside his strong Brujah form, there was still a scared 15 year old nursing his mother after she took her last breath, and for now, everything else was going to have to wait.
Jett Wilson || Kindred: The Embraced (Original Character)
We'd never know what's wrong without the pain
Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same."
All At One, The Fray
It was ironic how the world could sometimes come in a full circles around you just when you were trying to make the right choices for you and those around you. Lately, Jett had been wondering more and more if there was, perhaps, a higher power at play pointing you in the right directions so fate could step in. The thing about that was that when people considered that theory, it was usually for positive gain... not negative loss. What if there was a fate, and what if the choices you were making were mapping out a much larger route to a life where you were just a mere blip on the system? Was he seriously just a code in some fucked up Matrix of life?
Yet again, as had become his place to think of late, he was perched up on a ledge of one of the highest buildings in New York City. There was a rooftop garden and pool behind him, but he wasn't there for a leisure, he was there to try to think. Sometimes, thinking wasn't an easy thing to do. But if he was honest with himself, he was here to grieve... and this time, it wasn't his own life he was grieving, but his amazing father's. Cupped in his palm, there was an older photo of him much younger with his mother and father, all sitting on the beach together in the sun. Life was supposed to have played with so much more happiness than it had. If fate existed, what sort of motherfucker was it to build someone's life to end like this?
It was night, and Jett was no longer human. He was Kindred, and he had a hunger thrumming through him that wasn't abating. He wasn't trying to put off feeding, but he was just trying to buy himself some time to let his whirring mind catch up with everything that had happened to him in the last year of his life. Or years, really. It had all started when his mother told him she had cancer and she had been so determined she would beat it, and quickly, that she hadn't wanted Jett's father deployed overseas with the Navy to know about it. So, Jett had just started to nurse her, but she got worse so quickly. She wasn't beating it, she was dying and that realisation had dawned on Jett no more than 6 and a half days before she succumbed to it.
He remembered the day like it was yesterday. She had been having a 'bad day', when really all her days were bad, but her 'bad days', as she put it, she wasn't functioning at all. He had to feed her, help her with the toilet, shower her... he was 15 years old. That evening, she had been lying in bed and told him she wanted to read to him like she did when he was a child. Clifford the Big Red Dog, it had been his favourite book right through. He had been lying there on the bed with her, his arm nursed around her shoulders, and she didn't even get through the book before she just seemed to go to sleep. When he realised she wasn't breathing, he broke down and just held her there in his arms, crying for hours on end before he called anyone to help him.
His father was never the same after that. There was no way he could be. He got the news from his superiors overseas and returned home to Sydney immediately. Not even knowing she had been sick had nearly ruined him, but all Jett had wanted to do was the right thing. It wasn't until he was much older that he realised in some circumstances, there was no real right thing. His father sunk into a deep depression and was discharged from the Navy, no longer capable of serving. That was when Jett vowed he would enlist in the military to fulfil his father's ambitions for him.
But everything just fucked up from there on. It had been an avalanche of shitty things happening on a rapid descent and he couldn't find his footing. Yes, he become a really good soldier. He was a good fighter, and he was a good protector. When his best friend, Luka, nearly got blown up from a suicide bomber and Jett had run in to pull him out of the direct line of the explosion, leaving Luka injured but alive, Jett realised just how fucking deep he was in. It was only a few short months later that he stepped on a landmine himself and although he just survived, he was left quadriplegic.
Agreeing to be Embraced was never the 'right' thing, he knew that. It was again one of those times where there was no right. He did it so he could have his body back. He couldn't survived having a healthy mind stuck in a paralysed body. If his Sire had never come to the hospital to offer him Embrace, he would have paid someone to give him an injection of something that he wouldn't wake up from. Either way, he would have to leave his father alone and had just hoped like fucking hell he would be okay once he grieved.
But his dad wasn't okay. It was just by chance on a phone call to the Brujah Primogen of Sydney that Jett found out that his father had died of a sudden massive heart attack. That was when he had realised Luka had come to New York to tell him that and to say goodbye to him, because Luka hadn't wanted to live either. Their life was supposed to be happy, yet it had just been painful blow after painful blow, and now here Jett was, in the wake of his best friend trying to commit suicide and his father dead from a heart attack after losing his beloved mother years ago to cancer.
The photo was crushed in his fist, obscuring the view of his one-time happy little family, and he broke down. He was alone, so the tears of blood streaming down his face would be only his own burden and no one else's. Because this was Jett, and his re-awaken life now was one of a Protector. He wasn't here for himself, and he knew he had never been. Every choice and every decision had been for the people he loved, and that was never going to change. But it hurt. It hurt so much and the pain was burning inside him over failing Luka and losing his parents.
He missed them. He missed them so much, and he had known he would never be able to see his father again after he was Embraced, but that didn't make any of this easier. Maybe even, it made it harder. Being a Protector didn't meant you didn't feel the pain. On the contrary, it meant you felt the pain of everyone you loved and it amplified your own. He sat there, alone, high above from the chaos of the City That Never Sleeps and he let himself break, because whether he was ready to admit it or not, inside his strong Brujah form, there was still a scared 15 year old nursing his mother after she took her last breath, and for now, everything else was going to have to wait.
Jett Wilson || Kindred: The Embraced (Original Character)