Greg Holden - The Lost Boy
âAnd in the time I didnât know Just how hard the wind could blow âŚTowards disasterâ

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Greg Holden - The Lost Boy
âAnd in the time I didnât know Just how hard the wind could blow âŚTowards disasterâ

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âHe was the kind of person who craved intimacy like a war craves a battle cry. What a shame he flinched at every touch.â
â there are things to unlearn, N. (via andrcmedas)
Differential diagnosis | SELF PARA
I kinda used to be free â I kinda used to be bold â I'm kinda missing me â I'm kinda missing my soul.
It was always like this. He closed his eyes against the lights, to drive away the sight of hope that the sun still set like any other day stuck in a prison. The library was always quiet, but new arrivals always brought an influx of action in the dingiest parts of the hospital. Slouched on the bumped out window seat with boots drawing dirt on the pristine panes of glass, Casey hadnât a care in the world, disregarding the plethora of mental issues still painting him as a monster. Wasnât the last part of grieving acceptance? Ah, whatever.
âi spend nights wondering why i hate myself i spend days fighting to live anyway i waste time always feeling this wayâ
â t.m.

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I'm afraid of all I am My mind feels like a foreign land Silence ringing inside my head Please, carry me,
carry me,
carry me
home
Take control of who you are â
                â 'cause ain't nobody gonna save you.
 ( Song inspiration )
Emerton, Sydney, 1997
Underneath a clear night sky, it was easy to lose the sound of slamming doors and broken bottles.Â
bunchofrpmemesâ:
Character Strengths
Bold the ones that apply to your character, italicise what used to apply:
adaptable | adventurous | affectionate | ambitious | artistic | athletic | assertive | beautiful | brave | charming | clever | compassionate | confident | considerate | cooperative | corteous | creative | curious | decisive | dependable | determined | diplomatic | easy-going | enthusiastic | fair | fashionable | forgiving | friendly | fun-loving | funny | generous | gentle | hard-working | heroic | honest | hopeful | humble |  imaginative | incorruptible | intelligent | intuitive | inventive | leader | lively | loving | loyal ( itâs complicated ) | merciful | musical | observant | open-minded | optimistic | organized | outgoing | passionate | patient | playful | polite | popular | practical | resourceful | self-assured | selfless | sensible | sincere | strong | studious | thoughtful | tough | versatile | warm-hearted | well-intentioned | wise | witty
Peppermint || Open Starter || 12.14.2020
Snowflakes flurried outside the windows, some managed to stick for moments before melting into the tiniest drop. Ellie paused to watch out the window as snow slowly built up around the hospital. The winter chill had officially invaded the old building, and it felt inescapable. Thin arms attempted to gather more warmth by wrapping a thick cardigan tighter.Â
Ellie moved towards the cafeteria in search of a hot drink to perk up the dull wintry day. Darkness was settling the hospital into a hushed evening as it so often did. Upon entering, the room seemed fairly subdued and almost empty, she wasnât sure if she welcomed more of the same quiet or not. It was more familiar and comfortable, but it was easier to let days slip by unnoticed.Â
Peppermint tea seemed like good company for the evening. Ellie reached for a chipped mug and a dropped the tea packet into it. The hot water and coffee pumps were blocked by another person. For a moment she waited quietly, but they didnât seem to realize they were blocking the way.Â
âExcuse me, sorry, Iâm trying to get to the hot water.â She said gently, breaking the near silence of the room.Â
He hated it. The powdery snow falling from heavy skies with purpose. What had he even been doing before his eyes had caught those specks floating around on the outside of the window? The rest of the cafeteria seemed to bleed away as he leaned to the counter, the glare out into the cold horizon with such venom in his eyes, as if trying to melt the snow with a glare alone. Iâm so glad itâs beginning to look like Christmas! It was a loud whisper from somewhere in the cafeteria; the glee nauseating as Caseyâs mind wandered to the frozen temperatures, the torture every winter still brought him no matter how much he tried to bundle up or desensitize himself.Â
It was easy for him to hate, but nothing had ever ran as deep as the hatred for this season, be it for the birthday he desperately avoided, or the chill he couldnât get used to. Deep in thought, it was almost impossible to hear the voice that spoke up and made Casey startle out of the dead-eyed stare. Blinking rapidly, he straightened from the imposing lean over the counter, away from the window to cast a bewildered look at Ellie, then the water container. âRight,â his voice came out rough, the first words heâd spoken all day â or was it a week â of self-imposed solitary.Â
It took him a few seconds to peel reddened palms from the counter, body angling to lean against it instead. Wordlessly gesturing to the appliance she headed to, the arms crossed a moment later while blue eyes followed her movements.Â
âYou a winter person?â The gaze broke and flitted to the window, and the droplets racing on its surface. âSnow angels, winter wonderland, ice skating? Everyone seems to be so fuckinâ excited.â

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Itâs no secret that Casey takes pride in his Australian heritage, although nothing worthy can be said of the memories heâs left behind. Even with this pride, a quirk heâs developed during his life in America is to hide a very prominent part of himself, the accent.
cameron-malkinâ:
It took Cameron by surprise that the bantering conversation flowed easily between the two acquaintances. An unexpected but pleasant discovery. Although Cameron kept those thoughts concealed, a breath of laughter escaped the smirk plastered across his lips. âHell on earth,â Came the sombre reiteration. Mistakes and regret filled his time in Thornewood, brief glimpses of a life of happiness outside this draconian existence only fuelled the burning desire to escape in one piece.Â
âInspiring, huh? And what does it inspire you to do?â Morbid curiosity crept into his questioning, eyebrows arching high upon a furrowed forehead as they crept through parted doorways, keeping close behind Casey as he led the way to their destination, unsuspecting of the climb that awaited him. As the blonde began a somewhat risky ascent along the outside of the building, electric hues widened with a baffled expression, watching his movements meticulously to decipher the best course of action. Hands shoved into his pockets in a moment of defiance, tempted to call Casey crazy and leave it at that, however, the rebellious need for adventure gnawed away at the young man, tempting fate seemed like the only way to subdue the ache for adrenaline.Â
âIâm good,â Cameron called up quickly dismissing the offer of help with a narrowing of his eyes at the man now above him. Exhaling a short breath against the cool night air before climbing out onto the window ledge and assessing his next move. Outstretched fingertips found unforgiving brick as he pulled himself upwards, relying heavily on the grip of old leather-bound boots and tattooed hands to keep steady as he began the climb. Once feet hit the sturdy ground of rooftop, the air captured in his lungs finally escaped. Cobalt orbs glanced out at the miles of dense forest and city lights before them, âI âspose thatâll do.â Cameron lightheartedly complimented Caseyâs findings with a nonchalant shrug then reached for a cigarette and placed it between his lips, âWant one?â
Withholding his inspirations was an innate reaction Casey felt, biting his cheek, harboring those thoughts until it was certain there werenât any stray eyes or ears nearby. The thoughts faded to the background as he stood there, hip cocked to the side, eyes set on the ordeal of his new frenemy climbing to join him on the off-limits floor no one had dared to join him on before, only almost. âImpressive,â came a compliment, still tinged with haughtiness, nothing too companionable, even if the grin conveyed some respect for the taller man. He waved the offered cigarette off as Casey dug out his own from the depths of his jacket.Â
âThat booze tough? Iâll take that any day,â it was the words of a man addicted, but there was no denying that in a place like this. While sharp eyes glanced at the hidden bottle still in Cameronâs possession, Casey took a step back, further up the mossy shingles that crunched below his boots. The cigarette was quickly lit as he turned on his heel, stalking towards the usual spot near the chimney that should still hold some warmth after the dayâs fires. It was routine by now, finding the usual spot adorned with discarded cigarette butts and shards of glass from discarded contraband. With a grunt, Casey plopped down, the impact sending some loose vegetation rolling down the slope. Patting the peak of the roof beside him, Casey offered the subtle camaraderie while keeping his eyes on the blinking lights on the horizon.
What did the sight inspire him to do? Off himself, maybe do something that would send him to jail instead of here, back to Australia? It fluctuated every time he caught the faraway promise of liberty, but the answer always boiled down to one word; âFreedom,â came the confession between the smoke of his lungs. It was quick to dissipate with the shake of his head as Casey stretched his legs and crossed his ankles, the rough roof digging into the palm he was leaning on. âIâm gonna get out of here, doesnât matter how. Itâs right there, isnât it? The city, the life, the chaos. Inspiring, like a kick in the arse.â A chuckle colored the end of the confession, even if it came out more somber than expected.Â
âWhat, you didnât think Iâd start spouting poetry, didya? Ainât got no brains for that, roses are red ââ The laugh was more boisterous this time, even if the sound didnât match the look in his eyes. At least the blonde was adept at shrugging off those thoughts, the longing look in his eyes exchanged to an usual dulled darkness as he dared look at Cameron again.Â
âBut hey, thatâs what everyone wants, letâs forget that. We came here to drink, didnât we?â
elliemoore-thornewoodâ:
Caseyâs muttered sentence went unheard by Ellie since he was a few steps behind. Though she did glance over her shoulder to catch the tail end, realizing he had spoken. She shot him a slightly annoyed look at the disregard for her challenges with verbal communication. âHey, I canât hear a thing youâre saying.â She reminded him with a small huff. Ellie was often patient, despite a lifetime of her needs being ignored, but with Casey she didnât feel the need to gently sugar coat the issue.Â
Ellie was ready to defend her original plan to settle on a bench and soak up the fresh air. If the books werenât occupying her arms they wouldâve been crossed over her chest defensively. Ellie didnât feel the urge to be so timid around Casey. He had seen her for what she was the day of the fight, he had seen the pure rage and fear that could explode from her with zero control. Her soft brown eyes flicked towards the waiting woods at his gestures.Â
The challenge in Caseyâs voice was unnerving, but not in a bad way. This invitation is what she had wanted a few months back from Cameron, when she needed to feel anything other than a constant ache. She was no longer the person longing for a rush, but there was something that drew her to agree. Ellie missed feeling truly alive, like she was just a young girl in her early twenties with no real worries. âFine, Iâll go with you.â She replied, as if agreeing only because he had bothered her to. âIâm not hauling all these books through the woods though.â She added, her eyes glancing for a safe spot to set most of them down. Ellie set all but two books under a bench with as much care as she could. âYou know the way, right? I donât wanna become a ghost that haunts this place.â She quipped, a hint of playfulness in the tone.
The reminder of her hearing loss was swift as she reprimanded him, and Caseyâs eyes flicked to her hearing aids before he shot her an apologetic smile over his shoulder. As apologetic as it could be with the wolfish grin it turned out to be. Heâd never had an issue with being loud, it being the twisted defense mechanism heâd learned before he could even walk properly. Sometimes, just sometimes, the weight hanging over his shoulders shifted to press on his lungs, emotions choking up somewhere between an overactive brain and pained lungs.
Shaking himself out of the poetic trench heâd sunk into came with a flinch and a few blinks, his eyes finding hers only to catch the brief hesitation. Assumed hesitation with the growing silence and eyes towards the woods. It was a subconscious gesture, hands wringing together with nerves that yelled at him to get out of there before she rejected him. Still, there was a buzz of rebellion thrumming beneath tan skin, raring to do something else than sitting around speaking pleasantries. Boots tapped the ground, the crunch audible just before she spoke again.Â
He hadnât noticed his brows draw into a frown before it was gone, replaced by an unbridled glee to have someone accompany him into trouble, blue eyes sparking with puppy-like excitement and mischief. âHell yeah, letâs go!â It was a quick decision, his entire body vibrating with energy at the mere thought of getting away from the mansion, as far as possible. The thick leather of the worn jacket squeaked as Casey pulled it tighter around himself, hands flexing against the cold and the promise of adrenaline.Â
âWhatâs so bad about being a ghost? Wouldnât have to pay taxes,â a grin as sharp as a knife greeted her before the blonde beckoned her to follow him through the garden towards the edge of the woods. Broad shoulders curled in in inch as the imposing man hunched over, eyes alert even if the smile still lingered, aimed at her as he listened to her footsteps echo his own. âLeast you get to prove your sneaking skills, yeah? Canât just bolt or theyâd tackle us in seconds,â speaking from experience was easy enough, a phantom ache in his ribs reminding of all those times he hadnât run fast enough to avoid the mindless detainment. A suppressed shudder wracked his body, a grumble deep in his chest before movement caught the corner of his eye. A pair of eyes scanning the gardens for him, possibly, and Casey was quick to duck behind the cover of a shriveling bush. Without a second thought, his hand shot out to grip the slender arm of his companion, the rough yank too forceful to be called a mere request to hide. âGuard,â a hushed, harsh whisper was directed her way, scarred fingers still holding her arm as blue eyes glared daggers around the corner of the flora. âLucky youâre that small, câmon. Just stay low.âÂ
undynememes-blogâ:
CHARACTER FLAWS MEME.
bold flaws your character has / italicise ones they used to have, or have partially. feel free to add more.Â
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Slipping into Winter//10.27
The halls of Thornewood were growing colder by the day as the warmth of early autumn slipped away. The days seemed to be growing darker and as the light faded so did Finneganâs mental clarity. The passing weeks seemed to mount up around him. Erronâs guidance had helped at first. Recalling his memories of the fire that had left him scarred was difficult, but it reminded him why he was here. It was only once his therapist had begun pressing him about his relationships, his time at the Brotman Institute, and his nightmares, that lines began to blur. Lately, Finn had taken to wandering around, muttering to himself. He didnât usually seem to be aware that he was doing it, or even that he was awake.
He was sitting out in the yard on a bench when the sun finally dipped below the horizon and left the gardens in darkness. âI wasnât told until I got here.â He murmured, waving his hand as if he were explain something to an invisible interlocutor. âI couldnât have been there you know. I couldnât have started it. I didnât start either of them.â It had to make sense, in his mind. He had to make it make sense. He wasnât an arsonist. He was just covered in fire scarsâŚand had been committed for over a yearâŚand sometimes dreamed about starting those fires. âItâs just a dream, not a memory.â He muttered aggressively. Â
It wasnât a surprise that Casey, as noticeable as he was, had a tendency to eavesdrop. It was an easy hobby to have when lock-picking or pick-pocketing wasnât on the table, and the basement was off limits. Even easier with the garden silence surrounding him for the brief moments he could hide from watchful eyes and suspicious glares. It wasnât much as first, closed eyes shutting the outside world out while a lone wolf lurked at the edge of the estate, crooked cigarettes piling by the tree trunk heâd taken to habituating as of late.
While the world turned dark, everything was clearer. Some muttering nearby that finally made the Aussie crack his eyes open and crush the last of his cigarettes. Although tired, constantly tired, Casey was a curious being drawn to things more exciting than just existing. Long hair didnât flop over his eyes anymore as he peeked over his shoulder, around the tree to spot someone horribly familiar. Even if the last few months had been smooth, the guilt didnât take to leaving. Old bones popped as he pushed himself up from the ground, rough hands dusting the back of his jeans as he called out; âYouâll get gray hair mumbling to yourself like that, mate.âÂ
âTrust me, done a lot of that in my days.â Approaching the lone man was a careful walk, with a swagger swinging his legs until he was a few feet away. Blue eyes darted around the last rays of light peeking through the woods, guards mapped and followed with every flick of his eyes. It wasnât his place to butt in on the self-reflection; God, heâd hate it if someone did that to him, but Casey had never been a self-preserving individual. âNightmares gotten worse? You look like absolute shit,â colored by a chuckle, the statement â for once â friendly banter instead of malice. Of course, he knew painfully well that he looked no better, even if he managed to drink himself to sleep for a few hours.Â
âSo, whatâs up? Youâre not jogging, sâweird.â

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elliemoore-thornewoodâ:
Caseyâs surprised reaction was no shock to Ellie. A rule-breaking reputation wasnât one that stuck around the often timid patient. âProve it? You want directions to the hidden alcohol or something?â She replied with a humorous glint in her eyes. Ellie was still conflicted about Casey, but her turmoil was slowly melting with their recent interactions. Casey wasnât bad, this place was just claustrophobic and everyone had their own problems to work through. She could only hope he saw things in the same light. Ellie wasnât typically violent, or even outspoken, she was simply protective of loved ones.Â
An easier smile lit up Ellieâs gentle features at the noncommittal shrug to accompany her outside. Did he realize it was her way of extending peace? She started towards the door, but paused at the comment about books and porn. Ellieâs brows raised in some surprise at the blunt statement. âI really wasnât thinking thatâs what you meant, but thanks for the clarification I guess.â She said with a roll of her eyes and huff of fake disgust. Though a faint pink blush colored her cheeks.Â
âIf youâre that concerned about reputation, you might not want to hang out with me. I donât exactly have a cool or badass rule-breaking rep hanging around me. People will think youâve gone soft.â She teased lightly. Ellie briefly thought of Cameron mentioning his reputation in the past. How come she always tried to make friends with the tough cookies? Maybe she could learn to mirror their resilience or how to keep on a carefree mask despite the horrors that clouded her past, or maybe she thought one of them would understand her actions that night.
âThanks-â She said with a nod as she hurried through the opened door. The chilly temperature awakened her senses. It always cleared the fog that so often permeated her days now. Ellie pointed her chin in the direction they were to walk. âThereâs some decent benches over that way. I donât wanna sit on damp leaves all day.â She explained. Ellie led the way, imagining the sight of Casey following her through the wilting garden was an odd one, but anything could happen in Thornewood.
Anxiety had a funny way of rendering an usually boisterous man silent, but the noise worked as a reply in place of actual vocals. Shifty eyes were kept forward while he trailed some steps behind Ellie, gaze never really falling on her. It wasnât her fault, but a cross-wire somewhere in a traumatized brain told Casey this was okay, but terrifying and futile all the same. It was to score patient points, speeding up his release from the prison that Thornewood still was, albeit the lines were starting to dim around paranoid thoughts, and hopes for something better.Â
âEh, itâs easy to get the rep back. Just gotta yell at a Green or tussle with a guard and suddenly youâre a feral rampaging brute.â Forgotten were her hearing loss, the sentence muttered under bitter breath aimed at everyone within the warmth of the inside mansion. While wind whipped across his face, Casey pulled a a palm to run over the short-cropped hair he regretted, fingers staying hooked around his neck as blue eyes fell onto her with a raised brow.
âBenches? Seriously?â It was tame for his tastes, danger and forbidden paths calling his name louder than the familiar landscape in the gardens. A wicked grin and a huff later, the boisterous man was back, and the hand fell into a broad gesture towards the woods, another challenge to do something arising; It was an usual dance heâd danced with Lex, but their paths hadnât crossed as of late. A simple yet painful realization Caseyâd noted amid midnight runs and looking for a fix of adrenaline.Â
Nodding a bearded chin to the dark edge of the forest was a question before he opened his mouth, âFuck benches when we got a lakeside out there, yeah?â Shifting weight from leg to leg was a manifestation of restlessness that always had a hold on the blonde, stupid ideas and undermining mundane joys a founding pillar of his reckless behavior. âNo need to show me hidden liquor, just some spirit. You in?â
Itâs not a, a bad time, time spent with you Thereâs cool lights and songs with good lyrics We never have to talk again, whatever, up to you But since youâre putting up with me Hereâs another toast just to you
Gang of Youths - Let Me Down Easy @elliemoore-thornewoodâ