The Causeway, Monday Evening

[apocalypsesoon]

John stood on the causeway, letting two years of memories wash over him as he stands amidst his bags, not quite ready to go off into the wild blue yonder.

[ooc: John Connor goodbye post. slowplay as work computer = brokenated hard drive]

Comments

[apocalypsesoon]

"Hey, Blondie. No beach party today?" He smiled, a little.

[apocalypsesoon]

"Off-island. Probably permanently," he said, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. "I'll try to come back, cuz..." He leaves it unsaid for now.

[apocalypsesoon]

"Pfft. Like I can forget anything that's happened here or anyone without severe brain trauma. Or, more severe brain damage, since I think my head's been broken more times than old ladies' hips on a dance floor." Damn allergies, acting up at a time like this.

[apocalypsesoon]

John screamed and ran away like a little girl screamed and ran away like in T3 moved into the hug, burying his face in her shoulder. Her hair's in his eyes, that's totally why he's crying. From the stingy-ing of the hair. Yep.

[apocalypsesoon]

"I'm glad someone does," he says, with a funny laugh that sounds really bad. "Sorry about your shoulder."

[apocalypsesoon]

"I hope you're right," he says, crying a bit more into her shoulder. "Hate to have you melt away." He smiles a bit.

[apocalypsesoon]

"Right, surfer girl. You gonna be fine without me? Cuz I'm not."

[apocalypsesoon]

"I'm sure you'll find someone...just don't make it too soon?" Sniffle. "Don't wanna be forgotten that easily."