[In his dreams he saw blood, death and violence. The bodies of the people he cared about -- and he heard only laughter, ringing in his ears, long and unrestrained and cruel. He couldn't tell whose it was. The Earl's?

His?

Oh god, he was so tired of wondering.

Allen moved to sit outside, breathing the filtered night air with his head resting in his hands, just trying to unwind. His memories have been getting more and more confused for a while now, and he's not sure -- what's real and what isn't anymore, what's his and what isn't. After spending the day with Road, he feels a little off-balance, full of things he doesn't quite remember and can't quite piece together.

He doesn't like it.]


((slowest canon update ever is slow and creepy! please bother him ♥ ))

[Ritsuka had been wanting to show Soubi the butterfly pavilion, really. It just so happened that he'd gotten around to it on Valentine's Day. Total coincidence, but while they were at it, might as well have dinner there after the auction deal was done and over with.

He'd made sure to tell his Fighter to stay in their room (an order, for once) until everything was set up, and now about an hour later, he was peeking inside.]

Come on, Soubi.

[Normally he would be careful about such things, but the stupidity (stress) of the auction has made him frustrated, and he's tried to hold back this migraine for too long. Naoya's in his room in the middle of the night, still locked in - fuck these restraints, especially since he can't cast a healing spell with them on - and the video clicks on as he knocks things off his bed with a frustrated sweep of his arm.]

Damn him, damn him, damn him!

[He stomps away from the communicator, which is now lying on the floor amidst blankets, and Naoya crouches in the corner of a room, holding his head. He hasn't noticed that it's on.]

[Despite the lateness of the evening, Oliver can be found jogging outside.  He had started with several laps around the shelter, but with the newly added stars to the dome, he feels like the park would be a better place to run and so he takes a sharp turn towards Sector 4.

He shadow-boxes from time to time, trying to keep in rhythm with his feet, focusing on his technique.  Anything to drown in his mind the memory of the gaze she gave him earlier that day, anything to untie the knots frustration had created in his muscles.

Oliver smirks slightly: this is the second her actions had sent him working out his frustration since the few days he's arrived here.]

[It's been an exceedingly hectic evening, and he's positive that it's left Shirley as edgy as him, and that she has questions, and he should reassure her. But the stars have soothed him in a way, perfected the evening he'd had planned, and it's helped to settle him after the earlier near-upset that he had almost been a part of.

[Things would definitely go as he'd meant. It seemed like everything was coming together -- including the completely unexpected.

[So he was waiting for her at the club, having changed from his more formal clothes at the auction to something more relaxed -- still stylish and classy, of course -- and is setting up a game of pool idly.]