(all open)

[debtor]

Date & Time: Around December 9th (forward-dated)
Location: around town, Earthside
Characters: Allen Walker (debtor) and YOU
Summary: Allen returns from his canon update and avoids all his friends like a dumbass.
Warnings: terrible hair and eau de hobo


[It's not the Moon, at least.

He remembers it vividly enough now. Had forgotten it for a year, he'd forgotten all of it — a massive, terrible gap in his memory he hadn't realized was missing until it'd all come rushing back the moment he'd returned. It'd left his head spinning for a day, but by now he thinks he's got a firm enough grasp of it. No, this isn't the Moon, but it isn't the Exsilium he knows, either.

It'd all turned to snow, Kaneis had told him...

He hasn't sought out Kaneis. He hasn't sought out any of them. Not his friends, not his comrades. He can't.

He's been gone a long time, he's sure, and if any of them are still here, they've gotten on fine without him

(better off without him.)

He can't let himself want to. They're probably not even still here.

This is how it should be.]


[But if you know him, the boy is more or less in the same state he was in a few days ago. A fraction of an inch taller, just barely thinner about the face, changes so insignificant they'd be too difficult to really pin-point; save for his hair, which is unmistakably longer and tied back in a ponytail, presently. He dons a battered old coat clearly not intended for subzero temperatures, and carries with him everywhere a worn brown suitcase (stuffed to the brim mainly with clown props. Don't ask.) He's spent his energy seeking supplies, since arriving. If there's one thing he refuses to do, it's succumb to starvation or frostbite here and now, of all times. Once he's set, he can figure out what to do next.

And he really doesn't know.

Can he still fight this war? How can he help in this world, when he's like this? He thought he was following his own path, really his own, finally, only to be thrown off it entirely. Again.

He does what he can do, what he thinks best. He stays the course. He moves through this place as he did his own world - alone. He's not an Exorcist, he's not a soldier or Transport to anyone he meets, he's wearing the mask of a nameless drifter; he tells the locals he's nothing but a traveling entertainer, just passing through town, when they inquire. It's only half a lie. He brushes off the mistrustful glances he receives, smiles genially at every unfamiliar and unfriendly face, never stays in one place long, covers his tracks and fades into the background just as he'd learned from Cross. (Easier to do when everything's so dang white.) It's second nature now. And he does well at it

except he's neglected to actually disguise himself, and you may just be able to spot him around the town.

Throughout the day he can be found within and without various shops and businesses, bartering for food or winter clothing or a room in an inn. Inflatable balls and moth-bitten shirts can only fetch you so much in this market, though, he's finding, but he haggles as hard as he can.

At one point, he wanders out into the snow, shaking in the chill despite himself, squinting into the stark landscape, but finds himself unwilling to step out too far into it like this, lest he lose himself in some featureless snowdrift and die a terribly undignified death. Possibly at the hands of a polar bear. Like that one maybe, right over there, which is getting alarmingly close...

...And in the evening, he finds shelter back in the tunnels, curled up in some dark, uninhabited corner where he can catch a few hours of undisturbed sleep, perhaps. Somehow, he manages.

He's totally got the hang of this, he's doing great on his own, don't worry.]

Comments

[wolfchild]

[ nymeria finds him.

even when she wore a different face, the animals knew her. so arya really should not be surprised nymeria finds him. but she is. she had given him up for gone. lost like so many others back through the machine.

the white hair is just rare enough for her to place him despite how different he is. he won't know me. a greeting stops in her mouth.

nymeria does not share her concerns. she trots toward him fearlessly, and barks to get his attention. ]

[debtor]

[He startles, head whipping around to face the dog - no, wolf.

Wolf, with striking, unmistakable yellow eyes. His suitcase slips from his grip and clatters on the ground.

And without a word, he turns around fully, stepping backwards, looking for the girl who should be nearby - almost as if he doesn't expect to find her.]

[wolfchild]

[ she looks remarkably unchanged. swaddled in thick winter clothes with good, strong gloves for both her own protection and to control her powers. her brown hair peeks out of her hood. she whistles. ]

Nymeria, come. [ to allen, she adds, ] She won't hurt you.

[wilder]

[Help move, treat Cat's fever, set up the clinic, find housing- since getting here he's been busying himself as much as he can. Keeping oneself busy kept the thoughts away. About his past, about how there was someone missing in his life now, about the thought of being in this icy hell for goddess knows how long]

[Keep busy. He can worry about stuff later.]

[He can be found in one of the food shops. He's had an extra week from most to figure out how to earn money in this place, to get them started on a life here. He's got a thick dark cloak, with the hood down giving him away with his long red braid. He doesn't seem to notice Allen when he enters because he's too busy talking to the shopkeeper who is questioning if he really needed an order of five dozen eggs since that is a lot of eggs]

...Oh. Right. [He had totally forgotten that he didn't need that much food anymore, it was such a habit. He rubs the side of his head] Forget it, just...gimme one dozen.

1/2

[debtor]

[Allen, meanwhile, was inspecting some dried meat just a yard away (elk, maybe...? it's not labeled...),

when a familiar voice stops his hand.]

[debtor]

[—In the middle of reaching for something, arm grappling in thin air as he's sent stumbling forward into the grocer's display, yelping as the first packages slip off their hooks and onto his head.

An instant later, he finds himself cringing in the midst of a veritable jerky avalanche as it all comes crashing down around him WHOOPS.]

[wilder]

[Zelos hadn't paying attention at the other customers until the crash happens. Out of reflex, he whirls around to the source with the hand reaching for the sword that's hidden under his cloak]

[Only to freeze with eyes wide when he sees who is in that jerky avalanche]

- Allen?!

[velveteened]

[muffled ballad playing in the background]

[boundbydevotion]

[Four days is certainly enough time for Link to well and truly worry about what's happened to Allen. Kaneis had brought up the possibility that Allen had been sent home properly, and the prospect of that was uncomfortable to think about, both because of what would happen to him there and the sudden sense of aimlessness Link felt here without a purpose. Still, there was plenty of work to do and he concentrates on it during the day, assisting wherever it seems someone needs a hand and getting as familiar as he can with the surroundings, methods of transportation--learning as much as he can about what to look for when trying to find a place to live in this environment...

But it hasn't been that long since he'd last seen Walker, and some missions last about as long, he tells himself. So when the day's tasks are finished he looks for Allen, asking transports and locals whether or not they've seen a young man with white hair and a distinctive scar. It isn't until today that he manages to catch a promising rumor. Of course, he thinks, the Transporter had been reassembled again after all.

With his hope kindled, Link is walking the tunnels with purpose again, looking for a familiar face.]

1/3

[debtor]

[Eventually, he'll find him in one of the tunnels. Apparently lost in thought, he hardly notices the blonde gentleman until he's almost upon him.

But when he does notice him, he stops stock-still mid-step and boggles at Link like a rabbit in headlights. Link. Howard Link. Who he's gotten to know twice now, two overlapping sets of contrary memories fighting it out in his head all at once. Howard Link, who last he saw, had been sprouting holy feathers from his eye sockets and blasting holes in dungeon walls (two months ago), or in their moonbase bedroom (how long ago was that...?)]

[debtor]

[Link, assigned to him

by the Order.



Without a word, Allen takes a step back...]

[debtor]

[And bolts.]

1/3

[boundbydevotion]

[Link had been in the middle of registering the changes, noting his hair, the state of his clothes and the addition of more luggage--]

[boundbydevotion]

[--when]

[boundbydevotion]

WHERE ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, WALKER!!

[TAKING OFF AFTER HIM]

[blossomgale]

[ Since the day she arrived back on Earth, Sophie spent the first two days, mostly running around aimlessly to find Allen's familiar scent. After those two days, she finally accepted the truth that he had returned to his world, just like Cheria had done. It was difficult for her to believe, especially since she, Kaneis, and Allen arrived in Exsilium together and lived together for so long. She should have thought that it was highly unlikely they would all return to their respective worlds at the same time.

Now four days back on Earth and Sophie's exploring the snowy landscape, searching for anything useful to bring back for the new housing. It's while she's roaming around, she senses out a familiar presence... and with her own eyes, spots a familiar head of white hair. He looks a little different, but she's certain it's him. ]

Allen?

[ And there's something else...

A polar bear.

...Her gauntlets materialize around her hands and she's already racing after that polar bear. Before any happy (or sad) reunions and further questioning, Sophie's going to punch that polar bear out of the way first! ]

1/2

[debtor]

[Allen, meanwhile, doesn't notice her presence until she calls out, head whipping around and heart jumping into his throat at the sound of his name,] Aa-?

[Sophie?]

[debtor]

[But he doesn't have time to even begin to process it, because THE POLAR BEAR IS GAINING SPEED.

He scrambles out of the way - or attempts to, and instead only finds his boot sinking deeper into the snow. This is the opposite of what he needs!!

AND WHAT IS SHE DOING?!] Sophie, run!!

[IN THE OTHER DIRECTION.]

[aequivoci]

[ Cross has split from his newest roommates for the moment, Timcanpy flying around him — albeit hidden away to everyone but him — as he traverses the village. There are still nooks and crannies he has yet to discover, and he wants to find them all sooner rather than later. They would be good aces up his sleeve.

He throws a nonchalant gaze through the window of a business, continuing on with his current objectives.



He stops and takes several steps back to look in the window again. Tim presses his face into the window, tail flicking wildly, but Cross won't let him go in. Instead, master and golem wait outside of the shop, Timcanpy on top of Cross's head as the redhead lets out a cold breath. Once Allen steps outside, he throws the coat he was previously wearing (so nice and toasty and warm) on top of the kid's head. ]

1/2

[debtor]

[It lands on him with a heavy thwump and he stumbles forward-] What the-! [IS HE BEING ATTACKED BY A

wait, what is this? A coat...?

Coming to a stop, he pulls it off his head, blinking down at it. And then very slowly, he turns towards the tall, intensely red thing looming terribly in the corner of his vision.]

2/2

[debtor]

Mas...

[And

stares. At actual ghost bastard Cross Marian.

With slowly dawning something.

Relief? Disgust? Horror? Rage? Comprehension? Indigestion? Potentially all of the above. Give him a second, his brain'll catch up soon.]

bringing ugly sweaters to the lonely and desperate

[senseandcecilbility]

[Allen is not the only one wangling. Kevin has spent all morning walking from shop to shop, obtaining fresh produce for his companions and the unfortunate women they have been boarding with. Luckily, the weather is not a problem for the ruler of the sun, and the Christmas sweater under his frock coat is quite enough. In fact, he has taken the liberty to bring a few more with him, since Christmas is the perfect time for philanthropy and he has never met a beggar who could not use an ugly sweater or two.

He is leaving the shop with a victorious smile on his face and a paper bag full of carrots when he spots the forlorn young man.]

Master Walker, is that you?

[His uncertainty stems from the fact that he has noticed that additional fraction of a an inch, a preternatural talent he acquired while raising a child just Allen’s age.]

kevin is a perfect angel

[debtor]

[Allen's walking past with his suitcase in hand, head lowered, casually leaking a slight yet perceptible demonic aura that wasn't quite there before. And he startles at the sound of his name, and glances up at the man addressing him, eyes widening. It's been over twelve months from Allen's perspective, but he knows this gentleman...

That's right.

The priest-butler with the holy sword.] Oh- Mr. Kevin. [ strangely hesitant, but polite, ] Er, yes. Good afternoon.

dec 10 LIKE I FUCKING PROMISED oh my god

[anklets]

[Snowblindness, she's lost track of it all around her in favour of a far rarer white, or so she had been vain to hope: it shall be longer, she thinks, or maybe it will be shorter, though Kaneis' words remain pressed into her chest while the cold eats her skin (he said he'd been home for a while).

Her toes shall condemn her for this later, smarting with the cold which permeates thinly-socked shoes, but she fears more what condemnation Allen has surely befallen to evade warm company in this iced-over world.

Goes for a skid down an alley which has become more trodden-on slush than snow or ice, chasing a half-seen vision; one of her own invention.

She thinks.]

[debtor]

[Or maybe it's Allen fucking Walker - she may have caught the briefest glimpse of him as he rounded a corner, just then. Thoroughly bundled up in an oversized coat, face hidden behind an upturned collar, if not for the white hair he might've been unrecognizable; but the glint of gold beside him is unmistakable.

He's making no particular effort to avoid her, presently. But only because he doesn't know she's there. He's only concerned with finding lodging at the moment (doesn't matter where, he just needs a roof), and he thinks, right now, that he must be far enough out of the way that he won't be running into any more familiar faces this day.

Hopefully.]