Lucas Laughs. He's Not As Drunk As Becca Is But He's Not So Far Behind.

Susan Sontag, from “Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963″

Lucas watches her intently, listening to her musings. Thoughts he's learning a lot of new people normally share.

He considers his next words, wondering what might offer some temporary solace.

"I know it sounds crazy, but being in this town, I've never felt more free in my life. I don't need to pretend I'm not gay to people who know but are uncomfortable by it. I don't need to worry that people i care about might suddenly disappear. All of our odds are 50/50, and if it happens, then I'll be sad. But right now, there's no reason to be."

He watches her face as he talks, seeing if what he's saying is helping or hurting.

'Catie,' she says, brushing hair out of her face as she sizes him up. 'I’ve been here two days. Everyone’s telling me to relax or stay inside like that’s going to help anything. And now we’re just throwing a party?” She scoffs, looking away for a moment, then back at Adrien, her voice dipping into more bewilderment. 'It’s like everyone’s just…Fucking hell. This is where we’re all supposed to be now.'

She leans back, feeling the wall’s cold surface steady her, her shoulders slumping as she keeps her eyes on him. 'But you—' she pauses, trying to figure him out. 'Feels like you’ve already adjusted more in a few days than I could in a lifetime. You’re really just…okay with this?'

Lucas gives a breathless chuckle.

"Trust me," he says, continuing to stretch, "there are much better blood flowing activities I'd rather be doing. This is at least a consistent one."

He rolls his neck.

"Don't worry, I used to be the same. Especially when my dad would take us hunting. I would complain for hours and hours."

"Alright, suit yourself." he'll take another sip for himself and then place the bottle aside, listening as the other explains the morning run. "Always wanted to be that kind of guy, that's good man -- good addiction to have. Gets your blood flowin', gets you focused, serotonin all nice and unloaded. By the time you get to work you're ready to seize the day. I had to be dragged out of bed...most of the time, and still end up getting to work late nearly half the time -- dunno, it is what it is."

where: edge of the woods | when: day time | whom: open to all

Lucas crouches at the edge of the woods, examining what could be tracks. Or could be nothing. He hates how smart the creatures are. They could've left this behind just to toy with him.

He hears rustling from footsteps behind him, and he doesn't bother looking up.

"The hunting woods are six miles that way," he says, pointing his left hand. "Signs and caution tape everywhere. You can't miss them."

Adrien instinctually checks his pockets, though he knows he doesn't have matches or a lighter. He does have his mini-tool kit, though.

"Uh, hold on, actually." He pulls out the kit and grabs a couple of things from it. Then, he picks up a streamer that had fallen to the ground and rips a piece off. With some creativity, he manages to light the piece and then holds it up to the joint to light for the guy.

"There we go," he says proudly. "Mind if I take a hit too?"

He'd smoked at a couple of parties. It wasn't something he needed, but he likes the experience sometimes.

to: open event starter! (0/4)

“Got a light?” The words came out rougher than intended, the night pressing its familiar weight on him. Events like these typically followed the same routine: dress up, show up, drift through the crowd with vague nods to faces he was sure he’d seen before, toss back a healthy amount of shots, and then dive into conversations that inevitably twisted into something painfully awkward. This was a loop he coped with by fading into the background and finding some dark corner to lose himself in, if only to spare others from the cloud of smoke he’d bring along.

Tonight, though, he felt the strangeness more acutely. Maybe it was the ridiculous outfit his friends had convinced him to wear. Icarus—because apparently, that’s who he was. Light D’Angelo, the fallen star, tumbling back to earth after drifting too close to fame’s burning heat. A halo of golden twigs sat precariously on his head, while makeshift wings drooped from his shoulders, and golden leaves circled his bicep like some half-hearted tribute to mythology. The costume was more a collection of scavenged scraps than an actual outfit—an oversized white shirt knotted around his waist to resemble a toga, doing little to keep out the night chill. Still, the alcohol coursing through his veins dulled the cold.

He twirled the small blunt between his fingers, lingering against the doorframe as he finally turned to the stranger nearby. The words came out low, almost conspiratorial as he raised the blunt.

“We’ll keep it our little secret for the night.”

Lucas actually let's out a chuckle.

"Yeah, I imagine it is. You want help moving some of this out of the way?"

He studies the guy's face and recognizes the tired look in the lines of his face. Hard not to recognize that here.

It took Ares a moment to realize someone was talking to him. His mind had been elsewhere, more so than usual. The storm had worn him down, striking just as he’d begun to feel the faintest sense of settling into his new reality. Now, exhaustion weighed heavily on him, like the life had been drained from his body. As always, he masked it, though the dark circles beneath his eyes probably betrayed him more than he’d like to admit.

"No, no… everything’s fine, I assure you," he said, shaking off the fog. "Just taking a wellness walk to, uh, clear my head." If that’s what we’re calling it, he thought but didn’t say. Instead, he flashed the officer a polite, if not slightly forced, smile. "Though, it’s a bit tricky with all the rubble around."

Lucas nods toward the dried up bouquet and watches Hollis pick up.

Before he can walk away though, Lucas speaks up.

"Actually," he says, voice trembling slightly. "Could you..."

His voice trails off. He's not sure what he wants Hollis to do but at the moment, he doesn't want to be alone.

Hollis kneels beside the headstone, fingers tracing the edge of the carved lettering. His tools, a small brush and cloth, rest on the ground next to him, though his works seems more like a ritual than any overly needed maintenance. Hearing Lucas' steps, he straightens up, but doesn't turn right away, eager to finish what he's doing. Eventually he stops, lifting his tools and placing them back onto his toolbelt before finally looking over at Lucas, his face a strange mix of distant yet observant. "If you want me to...I can give you some space." He finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, afraid to disturb the air. He gestured with a small wave of his hand to the marigolds in Lucas' hand. "Or, I can replace those for you? Out with the old..." His fingers spread out into a small claw, waiting for permission to remove any old flowers from the site.

where: raina's house when: midday whom: @hcartcorruptcd Raina

Adrien double checks the house number he'd written on his hand. That's the one. He thinks... it's kind of smudged, but he's sure it's right.

He squares his shoulders and marches up to the house. It's midday, so he has plenty of time to introduce himself before he has to hurry back to the colony house.

He takes a deep breath and then knocks on the door in what he hopes is a confident (though not threatening) type of way.

Soon, the door opens and he grins at the woman.

"Hi. I'm Adrien. I hear you're a witch."

Adrien glances at the crowd, then back to Muz.

"Okay. So we don't dance with them."

He steps away from the crowd and closer to Muz.

"And I don't need a partner to dance. Just thought you might wanna join the fun."

He starts swaying his hips and stepping in a personal circle. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes, feeling the music.

"What's your favorite kind of music," he asks without looking.

Muz stumbles a bit as Adrien pulls him into a spin, feeling a mix of surprise and something very close to enjoyment. He can’t remember the last time someone dragged him so effortlessly into their orbit, and it’s funny how he almost goes along with it before his instinct kicks in. He gently pulls back, just slightly, taking a step as he raises both hands in mock surrender. 'Alright,—you got your spin,' he says, giving Adrien a playful side-eye. 'If you’re looking for a full-on dance partner, I’m the wrong guy. Besides,” he adds, nodding toward the swirl of people, 'I’ll probably end up trampling someone.'

@fromcamadams

Lucas steps into Cameron's office with a stack of folders.

"Okay, I have the updated census, the current inventories from every council service, building damages organized by priority needs, and a rationing plan you, Ana, and Santi need to look over."

He places the folders down one at a time, making sure he's got the right ones. Then he steps back, hooking his thumbs on his belt as he waits for her next instructions.