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[hr][CENTER][img]https://i.imgur.com/jO99YWI.jpg[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=SILVER][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]The Beach[/I] - [I]Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=SILVER][b]Human #5.016:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Not Your Peanut Gallery[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=SILVER][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]Everyone, I guess[/I][/sub][sub]-[/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]See No Evil[/I][/right][/SUP]
[INDENT]

The sand shifted, pooled and slid between his fingers, scratchy and light, loose, like dust underfoot, like an itch beneath the skin, like a pencil’s shavings left behind on a page…. Lucas watched the grains raining from his hand to join the rest on a very long, very old strip of land and glanced sideways at the man beside him, glad he was using a pen. Glad, for a moment, that everything was crackling heat and susurrating waves and flickering falling light flashing shadows and shapes on the sand while everyone else seemed to curl into themselves. They were all quiet in their own worlds, but when he glanced around at sullen, despondent faces and eyes avoiding eyes, Lucas didn’t wonder what those worlds were. Even he was sure he knew, this time, what was weighing on everyone’s minds.

Too much, too fast, too final, too broken. Too many breaths stopped before the next one came. Too many pools warm and thick. Too many screams ringing in ears they couldn’t cover. He’d tried. It hadn’t worked. It never did.

And now the school was closed. Foreclosed, forsworn, foregone conclusions… Should have closed sooner. Shouldn’t have promised everything was fine or safe or going to get better. Should have known what was coming. He felt no particular way about any of what was happening, too distant in his own mind following all the livid whispers and new promises offered by rumours and recruiters both, too practised at letting memories flow in and out and past, too jumbled up to focus on working through any of it. There was only the vague, familiar disappointment of life changing all over again in ways he couldn’t fight or change or fully understand. So, he poked at the sand instead, knowing without really knowing that he had a choice to make and it hadn’t changed since he’d first understood that the school was closed and he couldn’t stay. No one could stay.

So, it surprised him when someone broke the silence. Surprised him even more that it was Immanuel’s voice suddenly filling in all the empty space of little words and small voices and shaky sobs he didn’t know who was making or holding onto. Didn’t know if it was a crack in the dam or a goad or a road towards relief or maybe it was the thought of [i]home[/i] that wiped away the quiet. But slowly, then faster and faster the flood caught them all up and surged along. 

He didn’t know the whole story. Didn’t really know anyone’s story, except for Manny and Cleo beside him, only knew the obvious. What he could see was loss. Wings had lost them, Haven, it took him a moment to remember. And Rory—Rora and Ro… he knew who that was now—he’d lost his legs. Another guy was missing an arm. He didn’t know if the other girl had always been blind or not though. What he could hear was confused. Divisive. 

The fabric holding them together, already worn thin, stretched, strained… snapped. Violence begets violence. But now he knew who’d been sobbing so hard. 

He was still staring at Rory, and the tall, red-eyed lady he knew nothing about, as another voice joined in, but it was Cleo’s shout that made him jump, turning to stare at her and the thin glow surrounding her. He hadn’t noticed the first red aura beside the fire, but this one was white light the way too many paint colours made brown. Overwhelmed… Yeah… [color=a86f32]“All right. Angry sad’s okay, but that sharing isn’t caring.”[/color] They didn’t need an audience. He stood up too, reaching for Manny’s arm to haul him up alongside. [color=a86f32]“Can I miss your home too? Mine are full of ghosts now.”[/color]

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