Hey, everyone!

Please make sure to lock ALL your journals entries about the fighting or the CLF or any other bad guys OR THEY CAN READ WHAT YOUR SAYING.

Lock comments, too, if you can.

JUST BE VERY VERY CAREFUL. 'Cause I have not been in the past. But now I know, and I wanted you all to know, TOO.

Thank you very much.

Bye.

Has anyone seen him? Does anyone know where JD is???

[locked to JD]

Where are you?

HOLY JESUS FUCKNUTS A TORNADO A REAL TOR--

JD? Elizabeth? Are you guys OKAY? There was a tornado in the city, people are talking about it, and it's so much warmer than it should be this time of year and I've just been hanging out and sleeping in -

Wait. Wait wait wait PHOEBE. Phoebe????? I -

That's her name, right, Elizabeth? Your friend? I - I think I helped her, but then -

[lots of scratched out scribblings, some in VERY.BIG.LETTERS.]

Is - are you both okay and is Phoebe and that guy okay and -


Okay, I think Chicago did something to me.

You -

There are those missing persons signs and I KNOW you're not missing and can take care of yourself and all (duh, Zombie-Ass-Kicker-of-Doom!) but I - you haven't written in your journal and I haven't seen you and I'm worried and ... yeah, I just want to see how you're doing.

You're ok, right?

Title: Keep the Sky
Word Count: 932 (drabble fail again, I rock! :p
Characters/Pairings: Johnny Stens
Summary: The sky had already fallen. It's just ... getting worse. Written for the prompt Rest your head, it's just as well. You can't keep the sky from falling anyway - Johnny and/or Sam, from varymydays. Thank you! :)

Notes: And, yeah, I've written this before ever bringing him into the game. I ... yeah, obviously I TOTALLY rock. Only not. :p




( He’s gone to his mother’s grave since the funeral; but he can’t go today. )

Jonathan Stens - well, he is SO ready to leave St. John’s now. Yeah. This is the time, definitely. People start somehow drugging you and you think fucking powder blue wings explode out your fucking back and rain some feathers down on you, it’s time to get the hell out of there, right? Hallucinations are the last straw, the straw that broke the camel’s back, and all that kind of stuff. Time. To. Go.

It takes a while, though. He needs to make money and no one will hire him, so days are spent outside the mall asking for handouts until the cops come. Johnny’d be uncomfortable, except he KNOWS that as soon as he can he’ll return the favour to somebody else. He just needs out.

For some reason he’s not quite sure of, he doesn’t go to see his mom until the day he actually goes to buy the bus ticket and leave. He would’ve thought he’d go see her every day - but sometimes things don’t turn out the way you thought they would. Or should.

It’s kind of stormy out; cloudy. The leaves are turning. It’s pretty. Hr brushes a couple leaves off her marker when he kneels down beside it. He feels stupid, but necessary.

“I … gotta go, I guess.” He looks up, a hand rubbing against the back of his neck. It’s not like he hasn’t already said goodbye. But here it is, all over again. “Thanks for the stories. And …” There is so much to say and no way to say it. “I love you.”

Johnny stands again, grabbing his bag with all his possessions (not much - the constellation light his mom gave him and an extra pair of underwear along with a couple nicked power bars that are heavy on the chocolate chips). He looks at the grave one last time, wondering what his mother must look like now, and then starts the long walk to the bus station, hoping the rain holds off until he’s on his way.