Who: Oliver [Narrative] Where: Outside When: During the parade
Oliver wanted to be optimistic, not just for himself, but for everyone else in the house. He wanted to think that maybe, like with Christmas, they could have a celebration without something frustrating or awful happening. It had happened often enough that there was room to be hopeful, and he was trying. At first it seemed alright, creepy and strange, but alright. Nice, even. Whoever had been responsible for creating the floats had a talent, and for a little while it was almost nice. Still, he remained closer to the house than the rest of the group who had wandered out to watch, feeling a little bad when Edwin lingered at his side, figuring his man likely would have wanted a better view of the river. At the same time, if something unexpected did happen, it was better to know right where Edwin was if they had to move.
A few minutes into the display, he found himself tapping along to the beat of the music, feeling the knot of paranoid anticipation unravel slightly. After making pointing out one or two displays as they went by, he even took his phone out to snap a few pictures. As he switched to video to get a shot of the dragon as it passed by, he almost wish he had moved closer. Maybe this would be okay.
And then it wasn't.
His was still recording video when the king float slid into view. It took him a moment to recognize Jack, but it couldn't be anyone else. His gut sank a little, and he heard himself swear under his breath without realizing it. Edwin had heard it though, or recognized the figure just as he had, and he felt their hands link. He wanted it to make him feel better, and maybe on some level it did, but it was difficult to process as the knot in his gut rewound itself. The kitchen in Zenith. The fires. The octopus. The plague doctors. Bucky. Poor Bucky.
More figures on boats, ones he didn't recognize, but a few murmurs in the crowd made be him believe that maybe they did. When there was finally someone he knew, he realized he should have expected it. The face that was both reminiscent of Jason, and not like him at all, smiled cheerily as the rest of his emaciated, ruined form propped up in its wheelchair. For a brief second the pain was white hot, catching his breath, but it was different than an impending anxiety attack. Maybe it was because he'd been bracing for something awful to happen. Maybe because, since the rings, this almost felt long overdue. Whatever had been there a moment before gave way to a numb resignation, even as his eyes followed the path of the float as it continued its way. He could feel Edwin squeezing his hand again, and he squeezed back, even as his gaze moved back to the throng of incoming floats. As a few more drew near, the shape of a tub began to become less vague, and he decided he was done. He didn't need to see what else was there.
He told Edwin he was going, and that he was alright. It wasn't really a lie. He wasn't great, but compared to some of the other emotional onslaughts he had in the past few days it could have been so much worse. Edwin stayed behind, and that was alright. They'd find each other when all of this was done, but he sure as hell didn't need to stick around for the end of it.