syn

who: syn and geo
where: park cemetery
when: afternoon

Hey, Geo. I have something for you, if you come by the gallery sometime soon. I should be in later today if you'd like, and if not, I could meet you somewhere. Outside right now is a good thing, not getting into why on the phone. Hope to hear from you soon. Talk to you later.

who: syn and lucius
where: harlow park/printed syns
when: mid day

It'd been just a few hours since the guy in the van had given Lucius the boot, so he'd taken up walking heading into a severely small town. He stumbled upon a small park and his feet throbbed from the long walk so he ambled over to the park bench, plopping down and chucking his duffel bag beside him.

"Well, I guess this is a good a place as any. Sure as hell beats that ratty motel." he muttered to himself."

Synnove was out. It was the first time she'd been out in what felt like forever, her days bleeding all together in a haze of her brother's pain and suffering, her mental state quiet. She'd gotten him what he needed now, however, and she knew she needed to get out of the house for at least a couple of hours. She hadn't left it save to get the pain taker for Seph, and...she was feeling all sorts of off. And when one's twin brother was already fragile and prone to episodes, one went for a goddamn walk when one was feeling off and creepy and watched and paranoid.

She'd taken her camera, because she knew she needed to take some new photographs. Holding it up more out of necessity than any artistic inclination, she sighted around the park, and focused on a man there. Without asking if she could, she snapped a shot.

The clicking noise caught his attention and he jerked his head in the direction of the sound. "Can I help you?" he questioned, the tone of annoyance clearly noticeable in his voice.

Who: Syn and Seph
When: early afternoon
Where: their house

Seph had gotten to know the ceiling of Doc's bedroom very well. The funny thing was, it changed. It was that textured kind, and when he woke up at odd hours with pain swirling about in his head, he saw patterns in it. Shifting patterns that sometimes looked like faces, sometimes looked like ... things he wasn't sure he could explain to anyone, but were familiar at the same time. But they were rarely the same. Which he was aware was probably just him and his broken brain, but still. It was interesting. Nine times out of ten, Syn was there, stirring with him or already sitting up ready with more painkillers. He was getting little tiny bits of strength back, he was eating, and could now sit up without being exhausted. The bathroom was still something of an absolute trial, because that much movement and uprightness hurt an insane amount. Pain he could deal with for the most part, it was the whole needing help thing that he wanted to get over.

Who: Buttahfly
When: 5:10am
wish i had called before now, sorry. still alive for wat thats worth

Who: Syn
When: 5:15am
Still alive i think, sorry i didnt leave town dunno what to do now

Who: Herbert
When: 6:00am
dunno if you saw the news - were both alive and mostly ok but i think im going insane.

Who: Peyton
When: 6:03am
dunno if you saw the news - were both alive and mostly ok but i think im going insane.

Who: Doc, Seph, and Syn
Where: The Martens house
When: morning

Who: Seph and Syn
When: ass-early morning
Where: Martens residence

When Seph came to again, he was disoriented. He'd slept for a while, he thought, his head felt heavy and not clear. But whatever medication and tricks Doc had done had worn off, and his body had remembered that his throat was supposed to be missing. His breath was coming shallow and pained, every dragged inhale feeling like fire down the tubes that were desperately trying to knit themselves back together. His chest felt tight, like the air he was getting wasn't enough, and every nerve was screaming. Once he realized that Syn was still next to him, he tried to get that instinctual flutter of panic under control and shield the pain from her mind. He didn't want to wake her, she needed to sleep, but oh fucking holy god that hurt and what the fuck had really happened to him?

He didn't shut it down fast enough, and it brought her fully awake. She'd been drifting, not that far under the surface of sleep in the first place, but that was more than enough to pull her back up. "Seph?" she asked in a sleep-heavy voice, the word repeated internally as well. She opened her eyes and propped herself on her arm, looking down at him with concern. Are you okay? He didn't feel okay. In fact, he felt pretty far from okay.

Who: Seph and Syn
When: around noon
Where: their house

Synnove was drifting. She'd been in and out, half there, half not. She'd cleaned him up earlier. Stitched his neck as best she could, bandaged the wound. She'd cut his shirt off of him, and washed the rest of him up too. She'd even tugged his shoes and jeans off, before she'd pulled the blankets over him and added another. He'd lost a ton of blood. So he'd be cold. Or so her mind told her, and that's what she was trying to combat. She herself was still a bit of a wreck, though Doc had brought her things. Something to change into, and she'd washed herself up as well as possible without leaving his side. Currently, she was curled up to his side, cheek resting against his shoulder as she hugged his arm close to her body, in that state of limbo where she didn't fully belong to the waking or the dreaming world.

A few times during the night, Seph had started to wake up. His consciousness, still buried deep, had known something was strange, and began to bubble up. But it had hit that threshhold of pain and retreated immediately, far away from all that. At some point toward noon, however, it couldn't stay down any longer. Syn, it was ... Syn. Something was very wrong. It was too quiet. The twitches that started were small, in his feet and fingers. Just small little movements where everything had been so still for so long. His bicep jerked against her grip slightly. He was coming back up, and oh gods ... everything hurt. Everything hurt but he couldn't feel her very well and he needed her like oxygen. More. Unfocused blue eyes rolled open a little and he groped mentally for her, everything painted with ache and pure confusion.

Who: Doc and Synnove
Where: the Martens home
When: late night

who: seph and syn
where: streets/their house
when: night

Synnove flicked her wrist to snap the chambers back into place on her revolver, and fired off a quick two rounds at the blurred vamp barreling down on her and Seph. There were spent shells littering the sidewalk around them, and good goddamn, didn't these things run out of soldiers? Seriously. How many of the fuckers were in the woodwork here to come jumping out at them? It was getting tiring--which meant they'd been at it for a while.

Seph blinked a stinging bit of sweat out of his eyes as his pistol moved in a different direction and fired again, the two special rounds turning the vampire's head into red mist and bone chunks. He aimed at another one's kneecaps, and dry-clicked on the second squeeze. It didn't drop the thing completely, and he cursed internally, one hand dropping quickly to find another clip as the fingers of the other flicked the switch to drop the spent one out.

Hey, George, it's Syn.. I just wanted to check in to make sure you were alright, and you got your family to safety and the like. I'm still fine, though the town's obviously still fucked. Call me back.

who: seph and syn
where: printed syns/washington street
when: around the time the shit hits the fan

Synnove paused as she shoved another clip into the safe beneath her desk, and hissed slightly as she jammed her finger. Bringing it to her lips, she continued the conversation already in progress. "So I told him to get out of town, and to call if he needed anything. I'm hoping he does. He seemed like he'd listen." she added. "Wow, someone listening, wouldn't that be novel?" she asked sarcastically.

Who:Doc, Seph, Syn
When: Late afternoon (directly after Doc/Eva)
Where: Martens household

He hadn't felt like this in some time; flooded with anger that pulsed with veins of worry and discontent for the entirety of Doc's drive from Eva's house to his own. There was a haze behind his eyes the entire time, a constant whisper of how stupid Eva's actions had been, and how risky his own as well. What might this cost the man, saving that one life? What scales might tip? Doc wasn't good to dwell on those thoughts too intently as he drove, managing to fit three cigarettes into the scant trip from point to point. But he was clear enough to ask the questions repeatedly, echoing them still as he pulled up to the curb out front and hopped free, slamming the door and stalking up to the house, then inside.

He must've been a sight for certain; dripping wet, blood had dried over one side of his face and down his neck from a dozen scrapes and small cuts, bruises were already forming under his eye and all along his jaw, and there wasn't much to be seen that didn't have a smear of rock dust on it as a memento from the caves. Beyond what could be seen, he could feel the rest plainly; bruises, cuts, strained muscles, and most worrying was the hot-cold burn in his gut. Doc had pushed the constraints of reality to do what he felt necessary, had grabbed them in both hands and pulled fiercely to force the cave-in, now he was stuck waiting for his punishment. And some part of him knew it wouldn't be so small as his time on the island with Star, no... this was going to be an unignorable lesson, if it didn't outright kill him. Deal with it when it happens, he chided himself, shutting the door and dropping his keys nearby. "Either of you home?" Doc called plainly into the house from where he stood before stalking towards the kitchen, wondering if maybe he should leave a note in case they weren't. They'd love that, he mused as he walked, 'Broke reality again. Home later. Walk Voltaire.'

Who: Syn and Geo
Where: Printed Syns.
When: Mid-Afternoon.

Man it was gray. Gray and drizzling and gross. The fine mist was making a less-than fine distraction from the papers. Hell, those papers. Geo didn't want to think about it anymore; didn't want to think about towns slaughtered, families murdered, and so close. Eighty miles, hell. You could drive that in an hour - less, if you were insane and had no care for life and limb...like something that would murder families. The thoughts were frustrating and frightening and made his head and his horizons feel as if they were collapsing; as if he'd taken one step too close to a black hole and the event horizon had taken hold.

His bike left wet tire-tracks behind him as he coasted under awnings, wet rubber hissing against dry concrete. He didn't know where he was going - he was just going. Anything to further the illusion to his mother that he still had a job. As a result, it didn't surprise him when he realized exactly where he was going. That photo shop again...

who: syn and open
where: NMU's festival thingy
when: noonish

Synnove wandered around the area, camera bag over her shoulder with her new class schedule in it. Perusing the little booths and buying trinkets here and there and a ton of cheap incense, she was in a generally decent mood. Her mind was kind of a million miles away as she wasn't paying overly much attention to her surroundings. She had a vague sense of her brother somewhere around, though wasn't going to go track him down quite yet.

Who: Syn and Geo
Where: Printed Syns.
When: Afternoon.

Geo hurried away from the funeral home almost as fast as he could manage without flying, twirling the feather he'd recovered between his fingers. The adrenaline was wearing off, the itch between his shoulder blades slowly fading away, leaving his hands shaky. That...that had been not-fun, that had been so not fun that he never ever wanted it to happen ever again.

who: doc and syn
where: martens residence
when: evening

No two ways about it, Doc was confused. He'd left Eva's house behind almost an hour earlier, opting for a long drive along the lakeshore before finally heading home. He needed the time, a chance to work against the resentment over her ire, and at how she'd spoken to him. Why was it so hard to understand that he was trying to protect her? He knew she'd had a valid point; that everyone had to learn their lessons eventually, but the delivery was what had him so chapped. She'd been genuinely angry, and had made little effort to hide it. And that had, in turn, left him somewhat wounded. Doc was a man who rarely voiced his own anger, and now was no exception. No, now was instead a time to seek out familiar surroundings and the solace of the family he was still (and would always, in his mind) be working to make amends with. Trotting up the stairs with a foul cup of gas station coffee in hand, Doc shouldered through the door and shrugged off his coat easily. "Seph? Syn?" he called, dropping it onto the rack, "You guys eat yet?"

Synnove was in, sitting in the living room with her mother's laptop on her lap, frowning over the screen, and she glanced up when Doc arrived home. "In here." she called. She gave Teddybear on the screen a frown. "Well...keep looking, okay?" she asked, sighing as she finally shut it, eyes feeling over tired and aching. She rubbed at them, then stretched, turning her neck from side to side to get the massive crick out of it.

Hey Billy, it's Syn. I know I'm not supposed to call you on anything, but I wanted to let you know that the dreams stopped last night. I don't know if it's a permanent fix or not, but we didn't have them last night, and we got into the mine, and all that bullshit. Hopefully it's over. I just wanted to check in. Call me sometime.

who: seph and syn
where: dreamscape
when: early morning

who: Eva, Doc, Seph & Syn
where: mine of crazy doomness
when: afternoon

Seph was bemused as he entertained the thought that walking down into a mineshaft was something like a comfort. It wasn't their dreamscape, by far, and the flashlights kind of ruined some of the effect, but there was something about being underground in tunnels that made him feel better. It felt weird, granted, spiritually speaking. Like the rhythm was off somewhere vital, but the feeling wasn't strong yet. The whole place still felt kind of familiar to his crossed wires. They'd grown up in a cave, after all, and their secret mental landscape was mostly under the surface. Part of him half-expected to find the room at the center, where both of their labyrinths met. Their shared space. It wouldn't happen, and he didn't want it to with other people there, but still. He glanced over at his sister as he walked, arm that wasn't holding the flashlight extended to one side so his fingers could brush lightly against the jagged rock walls. What do you think of her? he posed to his twin, referring to Doc's knockout of a girlfriend who had unexpectedly turned up with him. Maybe an inanely odd question for their situation, but hey.

who: Doc and Syn
Where: The porch
When: Shortly after midnight

Flight never lost it's joy, but there were times when it was hard to really find pleasure in it; mainly when one was flying towards unpleasant tasks. Doc was having one of those nights, taking little enjoyment from the rush of wind in his hair as he cut a path through the night sky and looked down at familiar lights and landscapes below him. Almost home, he thought, cradling the jar of sand he'd been given in the crook of one arm and descending a touch. He was eager to be there, sure, to have the familiarity around him again, but at the same time there was dread. What if Star's warning came true, and he walked into an empty house? Or even worse, arrived just in time to hear goodbyes from Seph and Syn? Gotta work extra-hard is all, he told himself, repeating the advice he'd been given on a white-sand beach earlier and cutting the majority of his speed as he saw the neighborhood fan out below him.

Left on voicemail:

Hey, this is Oz, a friend of Billy's, and I'm calling to ask that you not contact him about the dreaming stuff again. If you have any questions or problems or anything, call this number, and we'll do our best to help you. But yeah, he's not going to be available, so please don't try calling him. Thanks.

Who: Seph and Syn
Where: Their house
When: Evening

Time had ceased to matter to Seph. That happened sometimes. He knew he'd walked, he knew he'd slept down in the basement on the training mats for at least some kind of while, he knew that Syn had come home. Her thoughts were pleasant buzzes against the edges of his, and he found himself listening to her more and more in the time between his 'talk' with Doc and the now. Whenever now was. He didn't feel bad, per se. Just ... disconnected. Staticky. Sitting for long periods of time just staring off into space, with the echoes of words lingering in the air in his ears. He avoided the attic, and was still sitting in his room, back leaned against the bed, shirtless again -- Doc's button-down having been tossed into the hamper at some point -- and with his fingers loosely curled around the dogtags at his chest.

Who: seph and syn
Where: printed syns
When: midday

Synnove was gazing out her window at the sun that wasn't nearly as bright inside the gallery. The windows were tinted--fairly heavily at her own insistence. So it gave the bright, warm day outside an automatically colder look, which she didn't in the least bit mind. Her mind was far away, spinning over distant matters as she daydreamed, slightly troubled but not enough to truly get her down. While her studio hadn't been open for that long, it wasn't doing that badly and that was something she could be happy with. Teddybear had just gone over the books with her to let her know that she was in fact, not losing money. Yet. With a deeply drawn in breath that she let out in a sigh, she leaned farther back in the leather desk chair, listening to the wind chimes she'd put outside the window.

Seph was wearing sunglasses as he walked down the street, a bag held in one hand. Generally speaking, unless he was at school or something, he wouldn't be out in the middle of the day. It wasn't really hot, just ... bright. Fucking bright. But his sister forgot that she required food sometimes, and since he wasn't in school, he had the means to bring it to her. It was homemade, because he was the cooky twin of the two. Tuna salad on toasted bread so it wasn't terribly soggy, and some of her favorite (not too heavily oiled) chips. And a coke. Well two, since he'd brought enough for himself. But he wasn't thinking about that, lest she get wind of it. He wanted to surprise her, so he was thinking about comic books until he pushed the door to her gallery open and stepped inside.

It worked. Her own daydreaming and his thought decoys had masked his presence, and she sat up straight in the chair as she saw someone enter, then seconds later saw hit was him. She smirked at him. "Why hello." she greeted. "Fancy seeing you here." Then she brightened at the bag. "Did you bring me something?" she asked, standing up and leaning over the desk. "Do I get a surprise today? Other than you showing up without letting me know you were coming." she added.