[closed]
who ; Grand Councilwoman (universal_boss) and Jun-A266 (chttrbox_recon)
what ; Rescuing PTSD Jun from Hoboland
where ; Generic Residential Zone
when ; Pretty much now
warning(s) ; Jun, PTSD, but no cooking this time (sad, I know)
He had really intended on just going for a walk; clear his head, take some time and just think over everything he'd seen and what Carter had said. He knew -- knew Carter was right, knew Kat would never have done that of her own volition ...
but he hadn't been able to shake any of the unsettling thoughts, the images grainy, sharp contrast. The farther he'd gotten from Spartan Base, the less he wanted to turn around and move towards it. When he finally realized he'd been out for hours, and had somehow managed to foot his way to another residential zone entirely, he located a teleporter with the notion of heading back.
He hadn't been able to bring himself to do it.
He'd stood, staring at it, into it, the unsettling oppression getting heavier and the images continuing to loop in his head. He had glanced at his wearable, I should tell Carter I'm going to take a little longer.
He hadn't been able to bring himself to do that either.
In the end, he left the teleporter and continued walking. When he was tired of walking, he stopped in a doorway and slept. He hadn't felt any different the following morning, just that he wasn't far enough from Base or Kat or any of the memories that continued to eat and gnaw in his mind.
Two days later and he's looking rather haggard. It's probably the longest he's ever gone without talking, to himself or someone else, all the cold dark thoughts resting on his forehead and giving him a perpetual frown that was only ever a flash there before.
He stops to rest, sitting against a lamppost -- he doesn't even know what zone he's in -- and drawing his knees up, curling his arms around them, and resting his head with a heavy sigh.
what ; Rescuing PTSD Jun from Hoboland
where ; Generic Residential Zone
when ; Pretty much now
warning(s) ; Jun, PTSD, but no cooking this time (sad, I know)
He had really intended on just going for a walk; clear his head, take some time and just think over everything he'd seen and what Carter had said. He knew -- knew Carter was right, knew Kat would never have done that of her own volition ...
but he hadn't been able to shake any of the unsettling thoughts, the images grainy, sharp contrast. The farther he'd gotten from Spartan Base, the less he wanted to turn around and move towards it. When he finally realized he'd been out for hours, and had somehow managed to foot his way to another residential zone entirely, he located a teleporter with the notion of heading back.
He hadn't been able to bring himself to do it.
He'd stood, staring at it, into it, the unsettling oppression getting heavier and the images continuing to loop in his head. He had glanced at his wearable, I should tell Carter I'm going to take a little longer.
He hadn't been able to bring himself to do that either.
In the end, he left the teleporter and continued walking. When he was tired of walking, he stopped in a doorway and slept. He hadn't felt any different the following morning, just that he wasn't far enough from Base or Kat or any of the memories that continued to eat and gnaw in his mind.
Two days later and he's looking rather haggard. It's probably the longest he's ever gone without talking, to himself or someone else, all the cold dark thoughts resting on his forehead and giving him a perpetual frown that was only ever a flash there before.
He stops to rest, sitting against a lamppost -- he doesn't even know what zone he's in -- and drawing his knees up, curling his arms around them, and resting his head with a heavy sigh.