[open] out of the blue and into the black

[5055034455]

Date & Time: Throughout August
Location: Around Exsilium
Characters: Saul & TBA
Summary: A catch-all log for Saul's many business etc. meetings throughout the month. Again.
Warnings: N/A; will be updated accordingly.

[The more time Saul spends in Exsilium, the more he realizes he misses Albuquerque. And the more he misses Albuquerque, the more he realizes what he's missing isn't so much ABQ itself, but the idealized version of the city he's constructed in his head over the past four and a half months where nothing mattered but his business and his life and it was all hunky-dory, for the most part.

And then he thinks, shit. Four and a half months. Damn.

Albuquerque was perfect. People came and went, sure, but not at the same rate they do here. Back home, all Saul anticipated on the first of every month was the flipping of a calendar page. (National Geographic's American Landmarks calendar, to be precise. Francesca gets — used to get — him one every year. August would have been a photo of the Alamo at sunset, if he remembers correctly. Ha.) But here — here, each new month brings a horde of unhappy newbies and random disappearances, and there's really only so much doom and gloom Saul can take before it really starts getting to him. He used to be able to track people down. Here? He's helpless.

He misses the sunshine, all 300+ days of it. The Initiative-sponsored trip to the beach was nice, but his tan's already faded and he's pretty sure he's developing some kind of vitamin D problem. He also misses the security of having a boatload of money sitting in his wall. He misses a lot of things. Even the dust storms.

At least he has Jesse. But he can't really cling to Jesse with Walter hanging around, and then there's the problem of Jesse not wanting to be clung to in the first place. Saul can hear that stupid kid's voice in his head just thinking about it: You don't need me, yo. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. Right now, it feels like the former. It hasn't stopped feeling that way since April.

Anyway, here's the weird thing: much as he misses home, Walter's presence has made it crystal clear to Saul that he absolutely does not want to go back to that mess. Not now, maybe not ever. He has a bad feeling, and he likes to think he's a pretty intuitive guy — nine times out of ten, his gut's right. Sometimes it's indigestion. But those are odds you don't mess with, and the chow here is just bland enough that it's much easier on his stomach than all that Mexican food.



Somehow, he got it in his head that the more he does in and for this place, the less likely it is that he'll see the sunshine and his money and his calendar and all that dust again, so he's twice as busy this month as he was last month. Three times, maybe. Training, yes; doing business, yes; fueling up on caffeine, hell yes. But August has the added bonus of new things that need caring for: his kitten. His girlfriend. His stupid-as-shit-in-hindsight idea of forming a Transport-run government.

He'd wonder what he was thinking, but he already knows. Better to burn out than fade away, right?]