What happened

on the curb.
in alleys.
on trash cans.
in the park.
on the street.
in subtle places, where the eye lingers to.

the words are bold and in chalk mostly, but they clearly read: BAD WOLF

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Harvey Dent screamed like a skinned cat and leapt out of his hospital bed. The IV stand toppled over and clattered to the floor. Frantically looking around, trying to get his bearings after coming out of his coma, he spotted his relfection in the glass covering a painting on the wall. Bandages covered most of his head and all of his left arm. He hobbled across the room, dragging the IV behind him, and went in for a closer look.

He remembered it all now - the monstrous miscarriage of justice that put Jack back into Arkham instead of the chair, where he belonged. God only knew what Jack might do once he was back in the asylum. He remembered Jack throwing acid in his face, and the sudden resurgence of the traumatic memory caused him to instinctively claw at the bandages covering his face. Pulling them free, he looked at the two faces staring back at him. One side was Handsome Harvey Dent, the dashing district attorney and defender of law. The other side was Big Bad Harv. He recognized the face at once, as if he'd known it all his life - curdled, purple skin, uneven tufts of bleached, white hair, a skeletal sneer, and that wide, staring eye permanently shot through with angry blood.

An orderly burst into the room, responding to the noise. Harvey's head snapped around to look at the young man who choked back a shriek of horror at the twisted visage. Without thinking, Harvey picked up a lamp on a nearby table and hurled it at the orderly. He went down immediately.

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The world had moved on.

And the world was still moving on, and Roland felt as though he were falling farther and farther behind.

He'd found the boy and it had lifted some of his pain and mental anguish. For a time he thought that if only he could find the boy -- Jake Chambers -- that everything would become clear. That the path to the Tower would be open and he would be on his way to fulfilling the destiny left to him many years ago. Even before he knew about the Tower, it had marked him. Back in his days at Gilead. Maybe even long before his birth.

But he was wrong. Finding the boy didn't change the gunslinger's feelings concerning the Tower. And now he was lost. The Path of the Beam had disappeared. His ka-tet was gone. The boy that wasn't became the boy that was and had found himself a new calling amongst this strange world. A world that was trying to move on, but had become stuck. Confused.

Roland hadn't been ignoring those who helped him. He hadn't been ignoring the boy. He'd been trying to continue his quest. Trying to find the Tower. But every direction he took, every walk, every step, every corner turned, only brought him closer and closer to his starting point.

And now he found himself stopped. Standing outside of The City Industries, staring up at three skyscrapers that nearly touched the clouds. They were all clouded by a certain darkness that caught the gunslinger's attention.

LexCorp. Wayne Tech. Stark Industries.

Towers.

Perhaps one of them was his.

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Who: Evil!Willow & Oz
What: Meet. And it's all sunshine and lollipops and rainbows everywhere! Or not. It's actually the opposite really.
When: Now Like?
Ect: I just wanted to use this icon. It's so very OOC for this log,

Oz: Oz wasn't sure if running away from problems was an Oz skill, or a werewolf skill. Well, okay, so his big problems had started when he became a werewolf so maybe it was an Oz skill that had just been dormant until he been bit. Didn't mater, what mattered in the end was that Oz was running. Again.

He was on the street moving fast, keeping his eyes downcast. He had gone back to his apartment and changed into his own clothes, and felt a little more … human now. But he could still see the bodies. Maybe it had been there time … sure, but he had sure played a part in their death. That could not be denied.

His apartment wasn't completely packed up, Oz did have vague plans to return. Just not anytime soon. So he walked, head down, hands in pockets and tried to think nice happy, completely human thoughts.

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