Who:An outlaw and a clone.
What:Talking, possibly smashing of some things nobody will miss.
When:night time.
Where:Outside the complex, and then who knows where?
Warnings:TBA!


Since the talk of Death had come up and so many interfered with his attempts to be useful, he felt nothing but anger. He knew they were upset with his ideas, but if it meant putting an end to the war shouldn't he at least try? He had been there longer than any of them combine and sometimes action had to be taken that was less than popular. And that train of thought made him flinch, made him feel as though he'd stepped into Jacen's shoes, and that did not help his bottled anger.

He really wasn't even sure where it all had come from. He'd been pretty good for a few weeks. No weird episodes, no mental break downs. Nothing. And then Death happened and all he saw was red. He could not even form his words into a coherent string of thought for anyone to really help him or make anyone really listen, he just felt violent. He knew that wasn't right, something was off after nobody else claimed to feel the same. So he left the internet and turned off the computer, ignoring the rest of the messages that came in and even turned off his phone.

There were some things he could talk to Clark about, but others that he needed an unbiased ear for. He felt Robin Hood was good for that. He didn't have to worry about the things he said around him, if he said something about Clark he didn't have to feel paranoid that it would hurt him. For all he knew, the things he told Robin were private. Robin didn't try to fix every problem he had either, some times he was just there and let him vent about the things that sucked around them. And often, Lawrence sucked.

He sat on the steps of the stairs that lead up to the complex, just needing to be outside.