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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
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[[Jasper-Declan MacDermott continued from She Bopped]]

How long had it been since he'd left the corpse of his fallen friend behind? Jasper-Declan wasn't sure. He'd watched the sun move its continual arc across the sky- the sun's presence, the sky itself were the only constants as he ran, the landscapes he'd paid such close attention to only earlier that day moving past him in a blur now. It had moved in a nearly perfect arc- where once it had been shining from behind, it was now hovering ahead of him, forcing him to use one hand to shield his eyes from the light.

The sun's orientation told him he was running west.

But to where?

That was the question.

He wasn't alone on his journey to Nowhereland, at least not for the entire trip. On two separate occasions he'd been joined by a voice on the loudspeakers, making the odd daytime announcement. The voices whistled through Jasper-Declan's disinterested ears, ignored but appreciated for the sad approximation of company they gave him. He didn't hear what the voices actually said, either his running past many different speakers in quick succession had distorted the sound or Jasper-Declan was simply blocking out the words unconsciously. Like a baby hearing his mother's lullaby, the tone and the presence of sound soothed him. Meaning was unnecessary.

Of course, it meant he didn't know what was happening. Of course, it meant he was never aware of exactly how close he had come to death.

He didn't care all that much. His mind was still set firmly in the off position.

Any thoughts he had were fleeting, unimportant things, brushed away quickly by the more important sensations of wind on his face and sun on his neck. He noticed the terrain change, noticed when the broken down stumps of trees were slowly replaced with the real, living thing. His pace had to slow slightly- he didn't particularly want to slam into a tree- but he never stopped moving.

Not for hours.


“Oh, really and what do we need to talk about.”

He stopped. And for the first time he let a pertinent thought stay and linger.

There are...people here. That voice belongs to a girl...and it is close.

He approached cautiously, slowing his pace dramatically and keeping himself concealed, not that doing so took much effort amongst the trees. It didn't take long for him to locate the group- they were quite nearby, after all. And what a group it was. Quite large, quite a lot of kids- four girls, two boys. Did he know any of them? He took a quick inventory of their features and-

And for a moment his mind short-circuited, because he had long before given up on this. This one hope, the hope that he'd find the one person on this island whose life had real meaning to him.

He'd given up hope and yet Alex Campbell was standing right there.

It wasn't a conscious thought that caused him to step free of his shelter, of the tree he'd hidden behind. He didn't say to himself, oh, Alex is here, I should go say hello- no, his brain was not processing any of this. It was instinct, something in his heart that sent him out. Never mind that he was holding a gun, never mind that the others might be armed and paranoid- it was so unlike him that he didn't even check-

He stepped out and spoke, only looking at Alex, oblivious of the others.

"Alexander...? Is that...really you?"

And, with a pause as a crucial observation finally got through to him-

"What happened to you...?"
being meguca is suffering

[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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Revenge is Best Served Cold · The Woods: Coastal