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}
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 02:35 am (UTC)The Netherlands is gone, for good. That is the worst thing. But close behind is the understanding that he is dealing with it in the worst way possible; close behind is the knowledge that he has once again allowed his weakness to overwhelm him. There is nothing the Netherlands would be more unhappy to see than Lucas's devastation, but he is powerless against it, no matter how hard he tries. The guilt is nearly as bad.]
I just want . . . to say goodbye.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 03:48 am (UTC)[He sighs, though, knowing that answer isn't satisfactory. He's not so great at this, but he'll try.]
If you want...when I see him again, I can tell him for you.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 08:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-21 12:33 am (UTC)Well...you never know for sure.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-21 12:40 am (UTC)Maybe . . .