Twentieth PSI
Oct. 18th, 2010 12:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_gentle_boy[action, multi-topic for everyone]
Lucas is a wreck. By now, he has forsaken the hat and the mask, and his burn marks are very clearly visible to anyone who didn't guess before. He doesn't particularly care.
1. He stumbles across town like a zombie, smashing into things wherever he goes, barely registering the pain. He stops suddenly in random spots, staring at the floor or at a tree or at a shop window or at a drone. This is where we had ice cream. This is where I bought him the present. This is the bench where he listened to my story . . . This is where . . . This is . . .
2. In school, he keeps his head down and buried and sits in a far corner. His shoulders occasionally heave.
3. At home, he shuts himself in his room. Family members or those who visit him will find drawing after drawing after drawing of a certain person strewn all across the floor, each one with slash marks through the face. Is he already forgetting? Is he losing the smile, the laugh, the voice?
[action, forward-dated, open to Taiwan, Saki, and Mindy]
A full day after his meeting with Taiwan, Lucas enters the house uninvited. He doesn't care about not being selfish anymore. He has remembered -- There is something very precious he needs to get back, the symbol and the memory that he absolutely needs.
He finds it in the basement. True to his word, the Netherlands has framed the very first drawing that Lucas has ever made, of Miffy and Hello Kitty enjoying a picnic in a park. Propped up beside it is the best piece of art that Lucas has ever produced: a drawing of the two of them, laughing and happy, so closely resembling each other in looks that they could've passed as a father and a son.
He is about to leave with his treasures when he catches a glimpse of something else out of the corner of his eye. A shoebox. For 'Lucas'. His hands shake as he pops the lid; he stares at what's inside.
"Mr. Netherlands . . . . . . . I . . . I . . . OK. I'll keep going. I'll keep fighting . . . "
((I have been informed that Lucas has been left notes of all the conversations the Netherlands has had with Jane Smith, the Westport notes, and Richard Grey's wallet. Also, Nini, if you don't mind, I think I will forward-date that conversation they just had to after this.))
Lucas is a wreck. By now, he has forsaken the hat and the mask, and his burn marks are very clearly visible to anyone who didn't guess before. He doesn't particularly care.
1. He stumbles across town like a zombie, smashing into things wherever he goes, barely registering the pain. He stops suddenly in random spots, staring at the floor or at a tree or at a shop window or at a drone. This is where we had ice cream. This is where I bought him the present. This is the bench where he listened to my story . . . This is where . . . This is . . .
2. In school, he keeps his head down and buried and sits in a far corner. His shoulders occasionally heave.
3. At home, he shuts himself in his room. Family members or those who visit him will find drawing after drawing after drawing of a certain person strewn all across the floor, each one with slash marks through the face. Is he already forgetting? Is he losing the smile, the laugh, the voice?
[action, forward-dated, open to Taiwan, Saki, and Mindy]
A full day after his meeting with Taiwan, Lucas enters the house uninvited. He doesn't care about not being selfish anymore. He has remembered -- There is something very precious he needs to get back, the symbol and the memory that he absolutely needs.
He finds it in the basement. True to his word, the Netherlands has framed the very first drawing that Lucas has ever made, of Miffy and Hello Kitty enjoying a picnic in a park. Propped up beside it is the best piece of art that Lucas has ever produced: a drawing of the two of them, laughing and happy, so closely resembling each other in looks that they could've passed as a father and a son.
He is about to leave with his treasures when he catches a glimpse of something else out of the corner of his eye. A shoebox. For 'Lucas'. His hands shake as he pops the lid; he stares at what's inside.
"Mr. Netherlands . . . . . . . I . . . I . . . OK. I'll keep going. I'll keep fighting . . . "
((I have been informed that Lucas has been left notes of all the conversations the Netherlands has had with Jane Smith, the Westport notes, and Richard Grey's wallet. Also, Nini, if you don't mind, I think I will forward-date that conversation they just had to after this.))
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
1
Date: 2010-10-18 05:14 pm (UTC)You again. What, did you get tired of using a bat?
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:38 pm (UTC)It takes some time for him to respond, although his mouth occasionally moves silently in the meantime.]
You . . . You're . . . that voice.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:57 pm (UTC)I'm more than a voice, kid.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 06:43 pm (UTC)I hurt you . . .
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 07:25 pm (UTC)[Why deny it? But then she just shakes her head.]
It doesn't matter. What are you doing?
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 08:20 pm (UTC)[His thoughts have been pulled away from his sorrow, if only momentarily, and he struggles to bring to mind what had happened.]
It was because . . .
[Too long of an explanation and too much effort to say.]
I'm sorry.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 08:39 pm (UTC)[one hand comes up to absentmindedly trace over her cheek, and her green eyes become glassy]
You should've hit harder, anyway.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 09:31 pm (UTC)What? . . . Why?
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 09:51 pm (UTC)[said bitterly, almost with a tone of betrayal]
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Date: 2010-10-18 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 01:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 01:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 01:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 01:20 am (UTC)U-Um. Thanks . . . You . . . What's your name?
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 02:13 am (UTC)Why do you want to know? It's not like it matters.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 04:16 am (UTC)[He is still on the ground, staring upwards. Parsee is the first person to succeed in stopping him from thinking about the Netherlands, however briefly.]
Because I want to . . .
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 12:30 pm (UTC)[she hmphs and glared at her toes]
It's Parsee. Parsee Mizuhashi.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 11:39 pm (UTC)I'm sorry for what happened before. I'm sorry for . . . running into you again. You should . . . You shouldn't feel that way about yourself. It's not true and it's not right.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 01:31 am (UTC)And you shouldn't know me.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 02:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 02:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 02:42 am (UTC)It's not . . . innocence. Truth.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 03:02 am (UTC)Yeah, right. And pigs fly.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 03:07 am (UTC)But they do. They do . . .
They fly. They destroy. They raze the forest. They corrupt the animals. They kill for sport.
But that's still truth.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 03:10 am (UTC)Hey.
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