Thirtieth PSI

[a_gentle_boy]

[action, dated back a few days]
[He'd heard from Rin that both Roshian and Giriko had gone in a single night.  Though he wasn't very fond of them himself, he remembered how distraught Luke had been for those few weeks when his 'mother' had been droned, and how happy he'd been to have her back.  The two of them . . . They were obviously important to his friend.

He isn't surprised when he rings the doorbell to be greeted by Roshian's smiling face.  She pats him on the head.  'Luke was upstairs.'  Evidently, she still remembered that they were friends.  They were the same age, after all, in the same classes.  And if he thought about it . . . Luke was the first real friend he'd made here and still his closest.  He nods to the drone, quickly hurrying up, a jigsaw puzzle tucked underneath his arm, a small box of chocolate held in his hands.  If Luke felt even half as badly as he had when the Netherlands had gone, or Margot . . .

But the moment he walks through the bedroom door to be greeted, his face falls.  No cap.  Nothing blue.  No trace of that interesting way of speaking Luke had.  Around the room . . . No Gizmo.  No home pictures.  And now that he thinks about it . . . no funny robot on the front lawn.

It is suddenly very difficult to swallow.  He carefully walks to the desk, setting his presents down, barely capable of doing so without trembling.  His hands . . . Lucas shoves them into his pockets quickly.  As he backs away, a small box set atop the desk catches his attention out of the corner of his eye.  "For Lucas".  Turning to the drone boy to ask in a casual manner, he is greeted with mild surprise.  If it had his name on it, certainly, it was for him.  Once again, his shaking hands can hardly grasp ahold of the object, but he manages it in the end.  And when he turns to leave, he doesn't even apologize as he accidentally sweeps  a stack of books off the desk.

He stumbles down the steps and out the front door, clutching the box to his chest.  The heaving of his chest as he runs . . . He can pretend that it is because of the exertion that his chest has become so tight.  Not because it has become so hard to breathe.  Not because of the tears that flow, unwanted, from his eyes.

  . . . Goodbye, Luke.  May you solve every puzzle that arises to challenge you.]

1. Alone in the park, Lucas finds the most isolated bench he possibly can and eases into it, still holding the box to his chest.  He has an inkling of what's inside.  The same reason he had shown Luke where he kept his box . . . Now, though, he simply sits.  And allows himself, after a few futile moments, to cry softly.

2. He has calmed down enough to go through the things that had been left to him.  Just as with the Netherlands, just as he himself did, Luke had kept notes.  Lucas dries his tears, looking through each piece of information carefully.  It's hard for him to understand right now, but . . . He will go through everything again when he's in a less harried state of mind.  The Westport notes.

3. It had been too late for Luke.  But it didn't have to be that way for anyone else.  Not if he hurried up with this.  Lucas is too shy to take pictures of people, but late into the afternoon, he is in the park with an ancient, half-broken camera, practicing taking pictures of trees and squirrels and snowdrifts . . .

((A bit deliberately less accessible than the usual entry, so I'm going to ask that no more than 3-4 people respond to the first prompt.  Thanks.))  

Comments

1 - hope this is okay!

[thief-of-truth.livejournal.com]

[Kay's walking through the park and almost misses Lucas on her way through, but catches him just as she's leaving and doubles back. He looks pretty upset about something, so she approaches slowly.]

...Hey. Everything okay?

Of course!

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[As he hears someone calling to him, Lucas quickly wipes at his eyes before glancing up, smiling tremulously when he sees who it is.]

Hi, Kay. Uh-huh. Everything . . . Everything's fine.

[thief-of-truth.livejournal.com]

...You don't look fine.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

Um.

It's nothing too important. Just. A close friend of mine's . . . gone. I know crying doesn't help anything, but . . .

[Lucas tries to speak as casually as he can. He knows it's stupid to cry.]

1 - /slides in early.

[ergaleomancer.livejournal.com]

[[Theta tries to get a walk in every day, and frequently that brings her to the park, even to the furthest corners. She doesn't particularly like children, but she's also making a very conscious effort to try to fake it and be nice. She hasn't missed the fact that it's a boy, or at least what looks at first glance like a boy, and boys rarely cried in her world. That meant whatever it was was serious to him. She limped over and sat down heavily on the bench, and stayed still awkwardly for a moment before speaking, her voice strained as the normally loud and abrasive man tried to force herself to speak in a gentle tone.]]

Good day. ...Are you...going to be all right?

[[She puts her hand on the back of the bench, leaving herself open to be hugged, but not going so far as to actually offer one to him.]]

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[The unexpected appearance of the stranger is a surprise to him, and although he is quite fond of hugs, his instinctive reaction to a stranger is closer to aversion. As a matter of fact, he couldn't even be certain that she wasn't a drone . . . Her injury would suggest otherwise, but it was possible. Regardless, it was embarrassing to be seen like this, and so he dries his tears and briefly flashes a pale smile.]

I-I'll be fine, miss. Thanks . . .

[ergaleomancer.livejournal.com]

[[She almost corrects him about calling her miss, but it's a lot of trouble to explain and he doesn't look like he can handle it. She doesn't buy his smile, though.]]

You certainly don't look it. ...Let me guess, someone's been droned?

[[It isn't a hard guess for Theta--it's the only thing like death here, and the only thing that she thinks would warrant tears.]]

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

Um.

[Lucas had a lie ready in place. He'd been running when he'd tripped and twisted his ankle and it had hurt quite a lot. But if she'd guessed so quickly, there wasn't much point in it.]

It's silly, but I couldn't help it.

3

[rapier-ex.livejournal.com]

-Virginia eventually trots up on Quicksilver, giving Lucas a smile.-

Never knew you were a shutterbug.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[All trace of his tears are gone by now, and he smiles softly back.]

Hi, Miss Virginia. A-Ah. I'm sorry, I don't think I understood what you said . . .

[rapier-ex.livejournal.com]

You know, right? Shutterbug? Camera enthusiast?

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

Oh! . . . Only recently. It's really neat, isn't it? Being able to capture people's images so quickly like this.

er, right, I guess I should say this is option 3, sorry ^^;;;

[has-a-name.livejournal.com]

*a certain somebody is at the park at the lake, holding a briefcase and looking at the still duck-less pond with a vaguely forlorn look*

No problem.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[Lucas, too, eventually wanders over to the pond, thinking that the reflections would make for pretty pictures. He slows down as he approaches, pausing as he sees the woman.

She looks a bit sad.]

Hi, Miss Nanashi . . .

[has-a-name.livejournal.com]

... oh...

*she turns*

... hello, Lucas...

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[By this time, there's no sign that Lucas had been upset earlier. He approaches.]

Is everything alright?

A

[ra-ra-razputin.livejournal.com]

[OH NO NOT AGAIN. This is the third person he's come across in almost as many days! But as this is sort of Raz's job he's gonna come over and try to help anyway.]

H-hey! Are you okay?

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[Lucas looks up at the voice, surprised, then quickly turns his head away. He probably should've gone home to cry . . . ]

I-I'm fine. I'm fine . . .

[ra-ra-razputin.livejournal.com]

No, you're not. But if you wanna be alone, I don't blame you.

1 (is this all right?)

[perfectvoice.livejournal.com]

[Miku, meanwhile, strolls through the park. She's taken this route many times before, on her nightly excursions and wandering around town, and thus knows it quite well.

What she doesn't know quite well is why that boy--the newspaper boy from before--is crying. But perhaps...

Perhaps she could help.]

Ah, is something wrong?

Totally fine.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[Lucas can't see who it is too well through the tears, but the voice isn't immediately recognizable. He turns his face away as he shakes his head.]

N-No. I'm fine. Sorry . . .

[perfectvoice.livejournal.com]

You're crying.

[And now she feels like she's intruding on something.]

3

[kleptophile.livejournal.com]

Hey, what's up?

[Lyn has been hanging out in a tree in the park; if Lucas looks in time, he'll see the earbuds from his mp3 player being removed and the device in question being stuffed into a deep pocket before Lyn drops down to ground level.] The hell're you taking pictures for? [Despite the wording, it's a friendly enough tone.]

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[Aahhhhh Lucas was not expecting a tree to talk to him; he is looking through the viewfinder and squinting at a leaf when the voice surprises him enough to cause him to whirl around, get disoriented, and fall on his butt, still looking through the camera.]

......

[He can recognize the voice quickly enough, though. The curse was a big hint.]

Mr. Lyn? H-Hi! Um. I'm practicing so they come out OK when I need to take them for real.

[kleptophile.livejournal.com]

Yeah? What're you worried about taking pictures here for, anyway? [Even in relaxed, casual conversation, Lyn always seems a little confrontational. Lucas may be familiar enough with him by now to recognize he doesn't mean much by it, though.]