Lucas

[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.]

[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.))

((I apologize in advance for being a drama whore.  Indulge me.  I am sorry.))

[The inhalation of Luke's hallucinatory gas has left Lucas in a terrible state. This is what he sees. The island of Tanetane . . . The island of nightmares and delusions.  And though he knows that the images he sees must be false, he cannot help but succumb to his dark fears nonetheless.  In fact . . . his mental delusions are so strong that anyone who comes near him may, perhaps, catch a momentary glimpse of his nightmares.  Is this due to the gas lingering around his body or is this because of what is buried deep within his psychic mind?]

[Scenario 1]
Lucas has opened your mailbox and is rifling through the letters.  The expression on his face is one of tormented anguish.  Whispers can be heard if he is approached closely, though they do not appear to be made in his voice.  "The boy named Lucas . . . The boy named Lucas . . . The boy named Lucas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "    There is a terrifying scream.  It is not his.

[Scenario 2]
Lucas is shivering and shuddering as he takes his bath.  His bath appears to be a dirty puddle of mud in the park.  Or a dirty pool of water on the side of the street.  Or a septic tank.  Or a poison swamp.  A pool of knives.  A pool of nothing.  Nothing after nothing after nothing after nothing.

[Scenario 3]
He's running towards you with a baseball bat.  "Run!"  His voice is harsh as he engages the massive smiling face beaming balefully from midair.  Will you fight with him?  Will you help him?  He needs to get home before supper.  Hinawa is coming home for supper.  When is Hinawa coming home?  Come home, Hinawa.  Come home.

[Scenario 4]
He's running towards you with a baseball bat.  " . . . Get away!"  He swings at you.  He wants to kill you.  Let him kill you.  You should die.

[Scenario 5]
Lucas is huddled, knees to his chest, on the ground in the middle of the street.  All of his things are spread out around him as he holds his hands over his ears and rocks back and forth.  Approaching him, you may see a shadowy image and hear a torrent of harsh, angry, deriding words.  Why are you coming near him?  What are you doing?  What did you do to him?  Huh? . . . . . . . . I did it to him? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . No.  Don't go near him.  Don't go near him.  You did it.  Don't go near her. Don't go near her.   Don't go near her. Don't go near her. Lucas did it.  Lucas did it.  Lucas did it.  Lucas did it.

( Cut for Length; Mother 3 Spoilers )

Stop it!  Stop going!  Stop . . . !  

There's   . . . There's so much blood, I -- [Lucas breaks off and seems to gasp for breath for a few moments.  He is, in fact, covered with the stuff despite not having exchanged anything at all, having just finished helping NIc.]  The sidewalk . . . Everything . . . Even on the trees.  It's just like when . . .

[The boy suddenly seems to snap back to reality.]

Who's a doctor?  Who's a nurse?  Who's a healer through whatever means?  Please, get uptown and help the people leaving the post office!  Anyone who's already lost something -- Find a medic!  You'll bleed to death if you don't get it treated!  If you see anyone who's lost a leg, get them help first!  Getting the blood vessels in your thigh severed is really dangerous.  No one should try to wait it out!

I . . . I think . . . I-I don't know.  If they're doing this . . . will it come back if we die . . . ?

((OoC: Just for clarification, Lucas is overreacting.  There 's a lot of blood, but probably not as bad as he's making it out to be.  This is the first time he's seen it in such large quantities -- and gushing out from someone while he's trying to heal them.  He's still a kid, after all.))

EDIT:
((For any replies after this edit, Lucas will be over his initial shock and can be found near by the post office if anyone needs healing to prevent from bleeding to death.  You may still reply to the initial contents of this post if you'd like.))

( Lucas's List (for the interested) )

[for household]
What is that horrible racket at 5:30 in the morning?
If you stumble downstairs to check out the noise, you can find Lucas standing on top of a chair yanking at the smoke detector in an increasing state of panic as time passes and the noise continues.   On the stove is a pan of frying bacon that wasn't actually burned when the smoke detector began to go off, but certainly is now.]

[for Free]
In lieu of breakfast, there is, instead, a large steak meal sitting on the table around lunchtime with a small bouquet of flowers in a vase.

[for the Netherlands]
The doorbell rings at approximately 3:00 in the afternoon.  No one will be there when the door is answered, but there is a wrapped present, a card, and a bouquet of sunflowers.  The present is a small stack of artwork featuring Miffy in generally cute poses, including sitting in a field of flowers, having a picnic with assorted other animals, and tucked into bed sleeping peacefully.  They seem to improve, skill-wise, as they progress chronologically.  The card reads as follows.

( [Cut for mushiness] )

[and finally, for everyone]
Um.  It looks like the same thing that happened on Mother's Day is happening again, but backwards, right?

 . . . Does anyone know if, maybe there's a Children's Day?  That might be fun. Actually, Mr. America said his birthday is coming up soon, right, which means that it's a pretty big holiday for this world, too.  Are there any other big ones we should all know about?  And are there any really cool holidays from other worlds that people want to share?  Maybe we could celebrate them together even if the town doesn't.

[This was the the task entrusted to him.  And come hell or high water, he would do it.  The man hadn't specified what exactly 'something' was, but Lucas figured that being roasted to a crisp qualified.  It wasn't too hard to guess what had happened.  The Netherlands and America had invited Jane Smith into the pharmacy on some pretense.  They'd confronted her.  And some how or another, the pharmacy had burnt to the ground, all three of them killed.

He'd wiped away his tears and set to work, returning home and making 10, 20, 50, nearly 100 copies of both sides of the note by hand.  It had taken him nearly two hours.  Placing a note into each mailbox took even longer and by the time he'd gotten back to his house, he was exhausted.  But that was alright.  Being so tired . . . It meant he could hardly think about what had happened  And that meant he wouldn't just crumple up and cry.  There was no time for that.  Now . . . Now he had to complete the task that Mr. Netherlands had asked of him.  He would be strong.  He would believe that tomorrow morning, both of them would be back in their beds just like Margot had been. 

He ate dinner, thinking over what he was going to say in his head, then waited another half hour before picking up the phone.  He, of course, filtered it away from all the drones.  And when he speaks, his voice is quiet and calm, but almost completely toneless.]

This is Lucas, the boy who lives on 846 Goldberg. 
I have something important to say.  By now, everyone should know that the pharmacy burned down this morning with three people inside -- there were three bodies.  I'm here to tell you that it's almost certain they were Mr. Netherlands, Mr. America, and Miss Jane Smith. 

[pause]

Mr. Netherlands found something in Westport that he'd kept to himself the last few weeks.  I didn't see it until today.  But because of what the note said, I guess it seemed like a good idea to talk to Jane Smith and find out what she knew.  So he did.  In the case that something happened, I was asked to distribute this note to as many people as I could.  Please check your mailboxes.  It should be clear what I mean once you read it.

 . . . This is the reason they died.  Remember that.  I don't know how the building burned, but I'm certain of it.  This is why they died . . . 
If there are any questions you think I can answer, you are welcome call me back in about ten minutes.  Thank you.

[Click.  Lucas stares at the phone silently for a long time after he's hung up, his breaths short and ragged.  Finally, he lets himself go and allows the tears to come pouring down his face.]

EDIT:
There's a witness who saw Officer Grady do it.  Set it on fire, I mean.  . . .  Um.  That's it.

[Because it's not enough to have just one yard covered in sunflowers,  Lucas has planted the magical sunflower that a certain sunflower youkai was kind enough to offer him.  This begs the question of why there are so many sunflower enthusiasts in Mayfield.  This has also left 846 Goldberg Street covered with massive flowers sprouting from every corner, covering up every square inch of the yard, and threatening to encroach into the neighbor's territory.  Luckily, there are no fences in this yard to cover up this dazzling display of nature's beauty.  Although it might be hard to make out through the sea of yellow, there is a blonde head of hair floating throughout the newly grown sunflower field.

Lucas once again has tears flowing down his face, but they are accompanied now by beaming smiles.]

I was stupid to think you would've left me now . . . Thank you.

A lad, well-versed in tears and tragedy,
Awakes to find himself in land unknown.
Adrift once more, cast forth by destiny,
He makes his way through maze of fate alone.

In Mayfield's streets he wanders with a sigh
His thoughts deep focused 'pon his lovèd home
When flash of light leaps forth to catch his eye
Intrigued, he ventures 'top the earthy loam.

A plastic bag of candy hearts he sees
Much pleased, he reaches forth to take in hand
What fortune has bestowed so gen'rously
Such luck has often been in short demand.

'U leave me breathless' -- Such a chilling joke
He pops one in his mouth and promptly chokes.

Despised by fortune, ridiculed by fate . . . Truly, there is no story more woeful than mine.  And thus, with a cough, a gasp for breath, a grasp at life . . . I do die!  Oh!  My brother . . . My mother . . . Await me in the kingdom of heaven, for I come to you soon!

Alas . . . Will no courageous soul come to this poor child's aid? . . . . . . . Ahem.  Pray allow me to repeat myself. 
Will no courageous soul come to this poor child's aid?!

[Lucas has eaten a purple and a green candy heart.  After making this announcement, he can be found in the middle of the street feigning death.]