(Untitled)

[mods_in_space]

That night, there are thousands down in the tunnels. Crawling like ants. Worker ants, on and off the trains, single file, clustered together, moving as one. Each one completely oblivious of the others. Nearly 10pm and it was rush hour on the Miranda Subway

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[runaway_logan]

Logan had been on a train heading back to Tifton, and he swore as the power went out and the train stopped. There was a faint glow of orange keeping the train sort of lit, but he could hardly make out more than shapes and movements.

Slumping in the plastic seat, Logan figured he should at least be glad his money was all back at Neil's place, locked up safe. All he had on himself was his fake ID, a metro pass, and twenty credits. Nothing worth taking.

People were whispering about the killer. The deaths. And Logan rolled his eyes as he listened to some girl sob down her mobile communicator to her 'mommy'.

"I hate this damn planet," he muttered.

[maintain_right]

As did Fraser, at times, but now didn't seem the ideal juncture to mention it. Hoping to visit one of Tifton's parks - a better place than his tiny apartment to mull over what he'd found at the murder scene - Fraser was just as unhappy as Logan to find his journey interrupted.

Dief trotted over to the boy immediately, pleased to see him again. Or smell, as was more likely the case in the near perfect dark.

[runaway_logan]

Logan half nearly jumped out of his skin when Dief nudged him, and then let out a long sigh as he realized it was just the wolf.

"Where's your owner huh?" he asked, knowing the animal couldn't answer that as he scratched behind his ears. He fished in his pocket for his com device, and flipped it open, shedding a little light on himself and the wolf.

[maintain_right]

"Hello," said Fraser, coming forward after a moment. He had a closer look at the boy's face in the com light. It looked better, but Fraser couldn't say for certain whether there were new bruises. "How are you, Logan?"

[god_is_talking]

"Unfortunate," The operator said simply, still holding the pole she'd been clinging to as the train hurtled down it's tube. Her other hand rested on her gun, though she was hardly in a position to attack anyone. In fact, the truth was that she felt safe in the dark.

God was watching her, and she hummed to herself as she waited for the power to return and take her home.

[blackhole_heart]

Fuck.

Sighing heavily, I sink further into my seat, wishing I had my damn headphones or something. Wishing the bitch next to me wasn't crying like a little power outage is the end of the fucking world.

I fish my mobile out of my pocket and flick it on. Last dialed, Logan's number glares up at me from the screen.

Motherfucker.

God, I just wanna go home.

[marked_rose]

Phedre was on the train heading back to the Scarlett Room from New Tokyo where she had spent the day on the movie set with Aaron Echolls. She'd done so far what she thought to be a pretty good job establishing a relationship with him in only a few short days - which basically involved figuring exactly what he wanted, denying it, but feeding into his assumption that he'd be getting it soon as long as he kept her around. With a man like Echolls, that had been a pretty easy task

[zulimar_lazuli]

"Whoops," Zuu said brightly, flipping open her mobile com in hopes of more light. Her face glowed a strange sort of purple, and she flashed a bright smile at Phedre as she stuffed the cash she'd just swiped from a gentleman's pocket into her bra.

"Can't remember the last time I was stuck on the tubes... Kind of exciting, eh Phedre?"

[marked_rose]

"I'm not sure if that's the word for it," Phedre sighed. "It's late and I'm tired and I'd prefer to be home."

[zulimar_lazuli]

"You're no fun, you know that?" Zuu grinned. "We're in a dark train with lots of strangers, there is plenty of fun to be had."

[box_marked_done]

Ray was tired and he just wanted to get back to his apartment, so of course the fucking power had to go out. See, this was why having your own car was nice, only the fuel was so expensive that most nights he rode the subway to save some cash. He wished today he hadn't been feeling so responsible...especially when the elderly woman next to him said in a loud warbled voice, "What's going on here? I can't see anything!"

Greatness.

[blackhole_heart]

"God, really? I thought it was just me," I mumble dryly, clicking my phone shut and scowling at nothing.

Goddammit.

[box_marked_done]

"Young man, young man," the woman continued, pulling at Ray's sleeve, "do you know why this happened?"

"It's the killer!" someone else hissed in response.

Ray sighed and rubbed his face. "It's not a killer--"

"What? There's a killer?" the old woman asked loudly.

Somewhere on the train a girl's sobs only got louder.

Jesus.

"There is no killer!" Ray said loudly, hoping to God that the planetary alignment of coincidences were with him on the one. "Everybody just relax and wait for the power to come back."

When the woman had released her death grip on his sleeve to turn and talk to the person on the other side of her, Ray made his escape. Except it was actually kind of hard to see, and he ended up falling into an empty seat closer to the girl who was crying. Fucking trains.

[blackhole_heart]

Snorting out a laugh when I hear the voice, and then feeling more than seeing the person sit down next to me, I lean over close and mumble, "Way to tell 'em, Ray."

Might not be him, but I'm pretty damn sure. I recognize his damn aftershave- deodorant, or whatever.