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 05:11 am (UTC)2
Date: 2010-10-18 05:19 am (UTC)She notices Lucas and has this odd feeling that she shouldn't be as much of a brat as always. ]
... Hey, you.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:20 am (UTC)1
Date: 2010-10-18 05:20 am (UTC)Lucas? What's wrong?
1
Date: 2010-10-18 05:20 am (UTC)But something seems strange; he isn't acting like the boy she met the other day.]
Em Lucas-! [She then watches him knock into a pole.] ...Oh! [She climbs off of the bike to rush towards him.] Are you alright?
[ooc; This post literally made me cry. You are such a talented writer, DL.]
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:21 am (UTC)Hi, Wy.
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Date: 2010-10-18 05:22 am (UTC)Mr. Vince . . . Oh. I'm just going to the park . . .
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:25 am (UTC)What you doin'? You possessed or something?
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:27 am (UTC)I'm OK. I'm fine. Thanks.
[His voice is curiously mechanical.]
((Aaaugh I'm sorry. T-Thank you. I actually . . . wrote an entry last night, but it didn't work as an entry so I stuck it into Dear Mun instead. >_<))
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:29 am (UTC)No. I'm going . . . I'm going to . . .
[He can't remember.]
Um. Somewhere.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:30 am (UTC)Do you know all the countries in the world, Wy . . . ?
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Date: 2010-10-18 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:35 am (UTC)He's gone. I won't ever see him again. Even if he comes back, he won't remember me.
[This is the mantra that has been playing inside his mind. It emerges in a stream of whispers.]
1
Date: 2010-10-18 05:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:35 am (UTC)On the battlefield, they call it 'shellshock'.]
I meant to thank you again for yesterday. [Her voice is automatically, instinctively low and soothing and non-confrontational while another part of her mind wonders what might have happened.] Though I can't thank you properly on the street. Would you join me for a walk?
[ooc; kjhjhkhdfs /looks ...THAT WAS EVEN SADDER kjhfkjhdf I'm all tearing up again. Do you mind if I tag it?]
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:36 am (UTC)[His voice cracks at the past tense.]
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Date: 2010-10-18 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:40 am (UTC)Oh.
You . . . really don't have to.
But . . . OK . . .
((I-I don't mind at all. T_T))
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:40 am (UTC)Sorry . . .
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Date: 2010-10-18 05:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:42 am (UTC)Sorry, Lucas. I wish we were anyplace else.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-18 05:42 am (UTC)It is a certain... Code that I follow. A code of honor.