[color=tan][i]Three Days Ago...[/i][/color]

[i][indent] Haven was reluctant to leave Rory’s side on the field, and yet as her eyes turned towards the open sky she felt the yearning in her heart take control. She wanted to fly until her wings gave out. She needed to suspend herself in the air above campus to give her mind some space. Even if she still wore her bloody suit, and even if she was exhausted, she was going to do what the universe had intended for her and soar.

Yet she wasn’t comfortable taking off with the chaos of the site before her. She needed to find a clearing where she could test her wings alone. Her eyes searched for a break in the site’s layout. It was close to the Minotaurs, but it would do for an escape route. Her steps, light and purposeful, carried her towards that spot. Her mind was on the clearing and on the eventual freeing feeling of the wind in her feathers, paying no mind to those around her not out of ignorance but out of the need to be free of this place.

Banjo sat on the tray of the Minotaur with Calliope.  She had two towels wrapped around her shoulders, with a third around her leg.  Every time they’d tried to give him one, he’d given it to her.  At this point, even he could tell she wouldn’t need another, but he didn’t want anything from anyone.  Not at this point.  His right foot tapping aimlessly, nervously, until he realised what he was doing and stopped himself.

His left leg still felt like it held it.  The ice sword, its phantom pain, in deep enough to support its own weight.  Even if it couldn’t be seen.

Everyone he saw looked a mess, which frustrated him even more.  He felt he had it.  Wrestled control.  And then his overconfidence…  Stupid.  He saw through it twice.  He divined reality from the simulation, and it hadn’t been a fluke.

Most of his team looked far more disturbed by the experience than he did.  His leg ached and it was preventable, and it marked him as a fool.

And then he saw someone he thought he’d never see again.

Moving away from the throng of people, the rushing aid, and busying support, she almost looked like a construct of a dream.  

Which wasn’t the best time for that kind of appearance.

He caught sight of her familiar face as it turned back to check on a teammate, through her plume, before continuing to the clearing.  She fluffed her wings once, and it became obvious what her intent was once she would hit the clearing.

His right heel hit the mud first as he dropped from the tray.  Staggering through the mass of overly helpful humanity.  Getting increasingly frustrated he shoved away someone with a blanket who assured him he needed medical attention.  He needed to get where he was going.  He needed a final answer that this wasn’t still part of what he’d been going through.  Another hardlight torment, through the mists of a plausible rescue intermission.

She had to be real.  She had to be alive and here.  Or he at least had to know.  Before she took to the skies and left that question unanswered.

She began to stagger herself, her gait shifting in a familiar way, as she began to build a little momentum for takeoff.

[color=darkgoldenrod]”OI!!”[/color]  He called out, hoping to get her attention.  If this were the simulation he felt sure she’d ignore him.  It would be too late.  Or she wouldn't be here.  Forever programmed to inevitably be a hair too late.

But she stopped and her head turned.

He slipped through another few people, ripping his arm through and staggered into the open space.  He took another few staggered steps and dropped his weight onto her shoulders, wrapping her in a tight embrace.  His own shoulders trembled as it became clear this reality held to tighter scrutiny.  She was alive.  She was real.  They were out.

This wasn’t just a false tale where he’d saved the girl and found himself another layer deeper into an unwaking nightmare.  He’d done it and he was out.  His shoulders trembled as he hugged her silently.  He realised breaking the clinch whilst still holding his form was going to be increasingly difficult, so he pulled back tears with a heavy sniff whilst he still held her close enough that nobody could see, and created separation, patting her shoulders down to straighten her back up after his embarrassing display.

Banjo’s call had stopped Haven in her tracks. His tone was off, not as plucky as his usual call sounded. When she looked at him, the expression on his face looked just as concerning as it was odd. It felt like he was seeing her, and yet he didn’t believe it. His usual swagger was gone, replaced by a horrible limp in his left leg. His suit was bloody, and yet she didn’t see the injury present. 

Haven’s head tilted back as he neared her to keep his eyes in her vision, still unaware of his intentions. Her lips had parted just when it seemed he wasn’t going to stop his advance, but the words never left her lips. She forgot what she was going to say the moment he embraced her.

It was Banjo, and yet her body still reacted with fear towards the touch. Her plucky friend, a brother with no blood relation between them, and she still felt like a caged bird in his arms. Her body was tense, arms slack at her sides. Her wings had flared behind her. Her cheek pressed into his chest as he enveloped her. She wanted to tell him to get off, but the sudden feeling of his shoulders shaking around hers stopped her.

Was he… was he going to cry?

Her arms slowly moved as her heart twisted. She’d never seen or heard Banjo cry before. Never thought that he had a sad bone in him. It was heartbreaking. She intended to return the embrace, her arms grazing against his back, but he broke it with the saddest sniff she’d ever heard.

Her own sadness, mixed with the confusion she felt towards his display, beheld his tear-pricked eyes as she looked up at him once more.

[color=tan]“What happened in there?”[/color] She asked as she rest her hand on the arm that patted her shoulder. What could make such a sparky soul break the moment he saw her?

[color=darkgoldenrod]”Ahhhhhhhhhh shit.”[/color]  He warbled.  Stretching it out to keep any hitches from his throat.  Eyebrows firmly raised, as his irises worked overtime as sponges to keep moisture from flowing down his cheek.

[color=darkgoldenrod]”Just… relieved.”[/color]  Which was true. The tears he held back weren’t from sadness or trauma.  Pure relief.  [color=darkgoldenrod]”Good ta be alive and alla that.”[/color]

He bottled his own issues up.  It’s not like these people didn’t have enough on their plates already after that.  No need to bog them down with his as well.  [i]No biggie, I just saw you get quartered up like Friday night’s roast chook… carry on aboutcha day.[/i]

[color=darkgoldenrod]”Take it you’re takin’ off, eh?”[/color]  He gestured to the skies with a tilt of his head and a smirk.

Haven’s head tilted to the side as her hand fell back to rest by her hip. She nodded slowly. A fleeting thought passed, whether to acknowledge the tears or to let him hold them back. It didn’t last long.

[color=tan]“Are you gonna be ok?”[/color] She asked softly. She couldn’t stand to leave him like this. It felt like he’d sought her out for a reason, and she wasn’t about to ignore it. [color=tan]“Do you want me to stay for a bit?”[/color] She’d sacrifice her time in the sky for him if it meant those tears wouldn’t fall. He was acting so out of character that it worried her.

[color=darkgoldenrod]”Nah.  What?  I’m fine.  Just checkin’ in.”[/color]  He smiled.

[color=darkgoldenrod]”Go about ya ‘Bye, Bye Birdie’ business.”[/color]

Haven’s brows furrowed with concern until she decided that he would have said something if he needed comfort. The bird pun managed to bring a halfhearted smile to her lips, either way. She fluffed her wings out behind her and shook her head. [color=tan]“I’ll be up there for a while, so don’t trip and expect help getting back up, Jo.”[/color]
She didn’t wait for his reply. The open air was calling her name, and she could no longer refuse it. She turned away from him, her first few steps away from him cautious and well-practiced. Until she regained trust in her healed wings and leapt into the air.

Banjo watched as she took to the sky, and turned to position herself so that she held herself aloft, leaning into a stiff breeze. She soared over the cliffs, and then plunged out of sight.
[/indent][/i]

[sub][B]Interaction:[/B] [COLOR=darkgoldenrod][I]Banjo, [@Hound55] [/I][/COLOR][/sub]
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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ulmeolp.jpg[/img][/center]
[COLOR=tan][indent][sub][B]Location:[/B] [COLOR=SILVER][I]PRCU [/I] - [I]Dundas Island[/I][/COLOR][/sub][sup][right][b] Take on Me: #3.018 [/B][COLOR=SILVER][I]The Mind is a Restless Bird[/I][/COLOR][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][B]Interaction(s):[/B] [COLOR=SILVER][I]Rory, [@webboysurf], Aurora [@Melissa], Calliope [@PatientBean][/I][/COLOR][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][b]Previously:[/b] [COLOR=SILVER][I]Eggs in One Basket[/I][/COLOR][/right][/SUP][/INDENT][/COLOR]

[indent] Haven's thumb gently tapped a restless rhythm against her opposite elbow. Her wings were drawn tight, even if the room around her was empty. The stares on the short walk over had been enough to elicit paranoia and irritation, starting her first day back in classes off roughly. She stood waiting at Pacific Royal's version of Royal Mail Canada, hoping that her deliveries today were sparse and easy to complete. She dreaded sitting in class. If she could get some airtime between community service and her first, she was sure that she could handle the 60 minute lecture without becoming a loon.

Her relief must have been written across her face as Ms. Walters, a kind and patient woman, approached her with one medium-sized package and a few envelopes. Ms. Walter's smile made it obvious that she knew Haven was in no mood for her civic duty today. [b]"Have a great first day, sweetie."[/b]

Haven would have usually been bantering with the woman the moment she walked in the door. They had a fun repertoire going with each other, mostly comments about Haven's quickness with her job or what sort of mischief Haven had been up to on her weekends. This time, they both were aware that there had been no fun stories to tell about her trip to the plateau. Well... except for, [b]"Good luck with tall, dark and handsome. I'm sure you'll have fun at the dance coming up."[/b] The woman had a cheeky edge to her grin this time as she pushed the stack of mail towards her.

Haven's cheeks flushed, the woman's comment softening the muscles in her body and producing a coy smile at the corners of her lips. There had been one update from her weekend that she couldn't keep from her older friend. She unfolded her arms and approached the counter that separated them, her hands reaching for the stack. [color=tan]"Thanks, Betty. I'll see you tomorrow."[/color] The woman only nodded, her grin wide as she turned back to her sorting.

Haven placed the package under her arm and the envelopes into her satchel as she made her way out of the office, that coy smile lasting a moment longer until she passed through the threshold. The dance... she'd completely forgotten about it. She wasn't even sure she wanted to go, and if she did, would she be going with Rory? Had he even thought about it, either?

The event hadn't mattered much to her before the trial. It had only crossed her mind then because Mei had asked Rory... and then they'd confessed their feelings to each other. After he agreed to go with Mei. Yet now Mei was gone, probably as happy as a lark considering she missed out on Blackjack's collective nightmare.

[indent][sup][COLOR=ffc725][i]"You were today's worm and tomorrow she’ll fly away the second things get hard. Haven already has her bags packed in case she doesn't like how things go with the Foundation. Four years here means nothing to her, she’s always had one wing out the door, ready to run.”[/i][/color][/sup][/indent]
The words struck her suddenly. Her body flinched, her steps faltering as she'd made it onto the walkway. Her breath came out as a whoosh of air. She'd forgotten what the simulation had said since she'd given Rory her bag. Yet now as she thought of Mei the stolen secret returned to mind. She took a moment to let her heart settle within her chest, her eyes searching around her in case anyone had witnessed her moment. Recovered, Haven continued towards her usual launchpad of grass nearby when a thought suddenly revealed the irony of the resurfaced memory.

After all the simulated Mei had said about her to frighten Rory, it was Mei that ran away. Mei had gone with the wind the moment things were hard for her. Now, even after being targeted by Hyperion's leftover followers and with the threat of The Foundation overhead, Haven wasn't going to follow in Mei's footsteps. The thought comforted the little part of her heart that had been doubting herself since her secret had been revealed. She was here to stay, to fight for her happiness. She wouldn't turn tail the moment things were hard again.

Maybe she could allow herself some grace by letting loose at the dance. She loved going to parties, so what difference was there between the two? Clueless, Haven stood at the edge of the grassy clearing pressing her lips together as she wondered what she would need to attend it. She'd heard from other students that it was themed Hollywood glam, whatever that meant. The only exposure to Hollywood Haven had ever gotten was through Gil, or through the classic movies left at the cabins in the states. Without the required dress uniform, Haven figured she'd need a gown similar to the rich women in said movies. She definitely didn't have one of those hanging in her closet. At most, her own dresses were causal and comfortable, besides the one sundress she owned. Besides the dress, Haven figured she could do something nice with her hair. Hell, she could even put on makeup for the first time in forever.

It all felt so silly, thinking that she could relax again in a crowd or dress up nice. She pushed her hair back from her face and released a slow breath. She had no idea what she was doing anymore. With Rory, it was an exhilarating leap of faith into the unknown. With anything else, Haven felt directionless. The only places she felt like she belonged was in the forest, in the sky, or in Rory's room. Had the trial really shaken her values, or was the last four years here just a means to an end?

That restless feeling began to gather in her chest again.

Haven broke into a light jog, her wings extending out beside her, and she took off into the sky. Up in the air, with the wind gently running its invisible fingers through her golden locks and feathers, Haven felt her body relax. She angled herself to the right, making a swing for her first mail delivery destination. If there was one thing Haven was certain of, it's that the people she'd grown close to had been one of the only reasons she remained at the school.

They were her tether to society. Her family borne by love, trust, and anything but blood. The trial may have shaken her faith in civilization, but it hadn't shaken her heart. That was what she could hold onto, to keep herself from drifting into a state of confusion.

[hr]
The deliveries had gone by quickly, as she'd expected. She found herself sitting in her favorite tree with ten minutes to spare until she'd need to head back to campus. One knee was tucked under her chin, arms wrapped around it as she gazed over the cliff and out to sea. Her other leg dangled over the side of the wide branch that seemed perfectly made just for her to perch on. Her sneakered foot gently rocked back and forth, her body at ease as the sound of the waves and wind crashed into the rock below her.

She sat ten meters off of the ground, suspended from reality in a large red cedar's branch. It had the perfect nook settled against the trunk where Haven could curl up and rest without worry. Ten feet directly out from the tree's base, fir and leaf litter ended just before the rock of the mountain sat exposed and dropped off at about a 100 meter drop to the waters of the Pacific below. No path carved through the island lead anywhere close to it, and if anyone tried to find her there, they'd have to hike for about forty minutes before they'd come close. The cliff sat on the west tip of the island, where Zayas Island could be seen resting within the waters to the left.

She'd been to this spot countless times since she'd discovered it her freshman year. It was her one place on the island that no one else knew of, besides mentioning it briefly to Rory. A smile tugged at one corner of her lip as she remembered how he asked her what it was like to sleep in a tree. She tried her best to explain it, but she'd been comfortable with bark against her skin since she was young. Instead, she told him to try it with her one night to get the full experience.

A gentle buzz sounded from her satchel where it hung on the branch. Her reminder to get to class. A sigh escaped her lungs, grieving her peaceful moment as if she hadn't had enough of the view and the forest around her. She stood straight on the branch as she gathered her satchel over her neck and shoulder. Her feet rest on the edge, her balance perfect against the breeze that ruffled her feathers. It passed through the empty space in her primaries where the trial had taken it's largest prize. She frowned, mourning it's loss for a brief moment, before launching herself into the air. She beat her wings until she reached the cliffs edge. The updraft from below caught her and took her with it. Up and up she went, her wings still as she allowed nature to give her a boost, and when the last of the wind kissed her feathers goodbye she moved them, turning herself towards campus.

[hr]
Just as Haven had been dreading stepping into her first lecture room of the day, she was surprised to see her professor waiting for her at the door. [color=tan]"Professor? I'm not late, am I?"[/color]

[b]"No, no, Miss Barnes. I was, uh... told to let you know that one of your teammates, Lorcán Roth, is in the infirmary following a bizarre illness that inflicted him this morning. You may be excused from class today, if you'd like to check in with his family."[/b]

Haven's heart dropped, her lips parting as she found herself at a momentary loss for words. What kind of illness was bizarre? What harm would it do to him if she was being excused to visit? It sounded like he was on his death bed in the professor's tone of voice. [color=tan]"Uh... thank you. I think I'll go."[/color] She managed before turning to head straight back out of the building. Her worry and concern was evident in her hurried pace. She immediately pulled her phone from her bag and flipped it open. Her fingers began to swiftly type into it as two people immediately came to mind.

[quote=Wings]"Lorcan's in the infirmary? I'll be there soon. go on in without me if you get there first. I'm sure he'll be ok Rory"[/quote]

[quote=Haven]"Are you ok, Ror? Are the Roth's ok? I just heard about Lorcan. I'll be there as soon as I can [/quote]

With the most important texts sent, Haven tucked the phone into her bag as she made it out of the academic wing. She launched herself from the edge of the steps, ignorant of the gasps that followed her outburst as her worry blocked any unwanted attention from her mind. She soared over the intake house, and then over the administration building, and landed at the front of the infirmary within a minute.

Her unwavering steps carried her towards the glass doors of the entrance as her wings tucked in behind her. She had every intention to pass through them, hoping to be with Aurora or Rory as they waited for the news, until she caught sight of the white walls through the panes of the windows. Her body seized, refusing to take her any closer as she stopped just a few meters from the doors. Her heart yearned to go inside, and yet the memories that flashed through her head froze her muscles in place.

She tore her eyes away from the infirmary. She looked down at the brick under her feet, at her dirty sneakers, trying to free her mind of the images that terrorized her. Her eyes turned upwards, towards the top of the building and to the sky. She found temporary comfort there in the blue above. She wasn't in the trial. No one was going to strap her down to a table. She was free. The sky was there and waiting for her if she needed it. She was alive.

Her racing heart slowed, and her breath shook as she released it from her lungs. Her hands trembled as she wrung them at her sides. She wasn't going to make it inside. As desperately as she wanted to be with her team as they waited, she was going to have to let them know she'd support the Roth's from out here.

Steps sounded from behind her and Haven flinched. Her body willed itself to the left, out of the way of their path as they made their way by her and through the doors so casually. She envied them for their peace of mind; for their ability to withstand those sterile halls without thinking of pain and terror.

She staggered her way over to a tree nearby, to get away from the path, and placed her hand against it. The bark was warm from the morning light, rough against her calloused hands, and it provided another place to ground her. It was familiar, a natural feeling against her skin. She took a deep breath through her nose, picking up hints of the earthy scent the young oak provided.

[i]This is real. I'm okay.[/i]

Her therapist was going to love this.

Haven turned herself around to sit at the base of the tree. Her wings stretched out beside her for comfort. Leaning back, Haven felt the welcoming sensation of bark against her feathers. Her worry for Lorcán settled in her gut next to the disappointment that plagued her now. She was too afraid to go inside. She couldn't be with Aurora or Lorcán's family while they fretted over their beloved's life.

Her hand searched for her phone again, and she sent another message to Rory in case he was already inside.

[quote=Wings]"I'm under a tree out front. I'll wait here for any news."[/quote]

She couldn't tell him why she was outside. Not when they should be worried about their friend and not about her pain.

With a sigh, Haven rest the phone in her lap. She wanted it close, in case any of her messages caught their attention.

Steps approached from the right again, their footsteps soft clicks against the brick. Another person that would find it easy to go inside, no doubt. Haven looked at the grass in front of her and wondered how long it would take for it to be easy again. Her foot began to tap a restless rhythm against the ground as she waited for an update.

...

Calli came around the corner carrying a small bouquet of flowers. She didn't know if Lorcan would appreciate it or would even be able to accept it, but she thought she should show up with something. Despite her conversation with Harper she still felt guilty. A quick visit to see Lorc followed by checking in on Banjo.

As she got closer to the hospital Calliope's gaze landed on a familiar pair of wings. Haven appeared...upset? Calli had not known Haven to be as worried as she looked, though given recent events it's no surprise. Calli strode forward and as she got near, called out. [color=F796A9]"Haven? Are you okay?"[/color]

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