Followup

Jun. 5th, 2011 09:53 pm
a_gentle_boy: (Pollyanna)
[action]
[Today, Mayfield's Sunday newspaper deliveries have an extra section attached to them.  After Finances and before the Funnies, someone appears to have slotted in Encouragement.  Every newspaper on Lucas's route will have a card tucked into it, each bearing a similar message.  "Don't Give Up" is penciled in on the front.  The middle section reads, "The Sun Will Always Shine Again", accompanied by several variations of drawings, some with simply a picture of a radiant rising sun or a glowing heart, others of Grady and the Mayor in various states of being beat up, still more of peaceful scenes by the park or of a happy family.  If Lucas knows you, you'll have gotten a much more personalized card, with a more detailed picture.  They are all signed

Love,
A Friend

If anyone happens to be awake on Sunday morning, they'll probably see a glowing green ball of some sort flying (not literally) down the street, shooting out newspapers with (almost) perfect accuracy.  Lucas is completely bathed by the glow of his PSI, and he reaches out to every house he passes with the power of Refresh.  Those with wounds may find themselves healing faster, and almost everyone will find that they wake up in a better mood than they had anticipated. 

Because the sun was shining, and it was never, ever going to stop.  No matter what Mayfield did.

Sunday afternoon will find Lucas comatose in his bed.  The amount of time he spent Saturday writing and drawing all of those probably wasn't worth thinking about.  And the PSI he had expended exhausted quite another part of him altogether.]
a_gentle_boy: (All that I needed was you)
[action, dated back a few days]
Goodbye, Luke. )

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.))  
a_gentle_boy: (Nostalgic)
[action]
[The days of January have passed relatively uneventfully for Lucas.  He's had a lot to think about, and a lot to consider.  For now, though, each time passes much like the rest, and he will take happiness in whatever peace he can get.  His routine is fairly straightforward.

1: Lucas attacks your front door with newspapers. )
2: Lucas plays piano. )
3:
Lucas draws you )

[voice]
[A phone call is broadcast to everyone later that night.]

Hello?  A-Ah.  This is Lucas.

I've been thinking a lot lately, and there's something that's been on my mind.  I guess I want to ask . . . How long has this town been here?  How long have people come in and out?  Does anyone really know?  But what's more important is . . . does anyone really remember everyone who's been here? 

When people get droned, we think they've gone home, right?  It's the hope we have, and a lot of the times it's true, but can we really be sure that it's everyone? Sergei -- the Russian man.  He, um.  Didn't he say that they were in a lot of pain?  That some people who were droned . . . that they were still inside.  If that's so, then . . . then we can't just forget about them, right?  Even if one person is still here as a drone, we can't forget about them.  And either way, it's terrible to forget the people you've become friends with at all.  To forget about the people who've come to Mayfield and who've gone.

............. I know I've already started to.

Does anyone think we should maybe start keeping track?  Just . . . something so that the people who come here won't ever be forgotten.  Maybe even signatures.  So if you do start to forget, then you can look back and see everyone's name and remember.  Small things like . . . Miss Margot, and how she was always caring for her sister.  Fuuko and how much she loved starfish.  Mr. Zero, and how fun his gym classes were.

It might be a bad idea.  Or too much work.  But . . . Well.  I guess if you don't want to talk about that, maybe we can just share stories of people who've been here and how important they were to us.  I'd love to hear that kind of thing.

[Please specify 1, 2, 3, or voice.  Although the actions are really just default Lucas interactions if your character has no interest in this topic.]

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