#c.threads

It isn't that he's avoiding his sisters- Really, he swears that it isn't. It's just that it's easier, actually, to pretend there's not the constant, looming reminder of exactly how close his father could be to finding him, if he bothered to give a shit beyond trying to preserve his investments. It was different, with Felix- the tie that bound them was his mother- who, despite everything, had seemed to try her best to spare Silas and Felix the worst of Silas' birthright of being a righteous douche. His run-in with Aya had gone... strangely. He wasn't sure why she hadn't immediately lit into him, thankful, maybe, that he'd become nearly unrecognizable as the spoiled rich kid she wouldn't have hesitated to chew out and attempt to drag home.

But word traveled, in Huntsville, and it wasn't like 'Chiyoda' was a common name in the area- he'd gone by 'Canne' long enough to know that- and the word traveling... certainly hadn't sounded like Aya. It's still surprising, no matter the conclusion he arrived at, to see Aiko Chiyoda anywhere close to Huntsville. It's almost like a backwards dream, the image of his little sister sitting at the bar at the diner in his usual spot. He considers turning around and leaving.

"Hey! Mornin' Silas!" Busted.

"Yeah, uh, Morning." he greets his neighbor, wincing slightly before turning to face Aiko. "I can... Explain?" That's... surprisingly gentle, for the version of Silas she knew growing up- no cutting remark, no insults- He looks... apologetic. "Does dad know you're here?"

@aivalanche

"If I'm there to catch you when you fall- You'll have a friend down in Hell after all..." The last week had been. Weird, to say the least, busy, marked with work- restoring the intranet, checking on injured friends and looking after Russell to lighten Sissy's load- It had been almost an act of desperation, radioing G and Wren to see if they had the time to sit around and play something, anything, to pass the time, to latch onto a little normalcy around the stress of trying to 'live in the after' for what felt like the hundredth time that year. They were down a few members, Cyan and G slumped onto a dirty couch in the Romero garage, feet propped up and guitars across their laps, Wren absently playing a wooden box between her feet for percussion- it was a break from reality.

Reality comes creeping alongside Hunter Hilton, who is also creeping further out of town than Cyan tends to see him. "And if you're there to catch me when I fall- Then maybe Hell ain't so bad-" He lifts a hand, waving slightly to quiet the instruments. "You lost, Hilton?" Comes the question, a raised brow over sunglasses quickly tucked into his hair. "If you're trying to round two Mo, he's not here." Word traveled fast, it seems.

@oxtofmydcpth

"If I pretend they threw the festival for me, this is the first birthday party I've ever had where everybody maybe kinda liked me and wasn't around because I like... Have a pool and illicit substances." He admits with a chuckle, that builds into a laugh as Sissy shoves him. "Okay, okay, I'm going, Hot cocoa, slice of pie, pickled something, I got the checklist." He sets a kiss on her forehead. "Love you. Back soon." And then he's off, the trail of his leather coat dragging the ground slightly, smudged visage of The Crow painted over his features already a little messed from his bandmates insisting on touching his face and time spent simply idling with Sissy around the stalls.

It's snacks he's been sent to retrieve when he stumbles into somebody else. "Shit, bro I'm sor-" He realizes, after a moment, that 'Bro' was an apt descriptor, because for all his concerted effort to avoid him- he'd smacked headlong into... Felix. "Oh. Hey, Felix uh." He sighs. "Yep, just as awkward as I was expecting it to be- uh, hey, if you're gonna like... tell me to fuck myself and die or something like most everybody back home wants to can we go somewhere away from people? I'm trying really, really hard to not cause any more scenes ever again if I can help it."

@endlessreruns

"She's just eating a lot of weird stuff now, I guess that's normal. The books say that's normal." Cyan flicks ash from the end of his joint, passing it back to G with a nod. "Hey, I'll see you around dude- you and Wren still up for practice next week? Sissy usually doesn't need me on Rusty's days off, so." It's an affirmative from the other man who lifts a hand in a wave and walks off toward town proper that confirms their plans for later, and releases Cyan to sit back down on the open doorway of his van.

He's about to uncork a bottle of mead and set to work wiping rental drives when footsteps coming up the drive catch his attention again. "You forget some shit G? It's probably sitting on the coun- Fuck me." His slight smile drops into a hard scowl, tattooed arms crossing over his chest. "To what do I owe the displeasure of your visit, Hilton?" He'd known he was in town, to be fair. Val had already informed him of at least one sexual encounter Cyan was loathe to think about the details of- He just had hoped he could manage to avoid him longer. "Which face-fucking is this? Have you reached the double digits yet?"

@oxtofmydcpth

[User: AMAK1TSUN3] I don't know if I'm doing okay?

[User: AMAK1TSUN3] I didn't think it'd hit me like this.

[User: AMAK1TSUN3] oh hold on.

[User: CYANOTYPE] Forgot I was still... using my old usernames on these. That's better I guess.

[User: CYANOTYPE] This is stupid. so many other people knew them better but I'm not... I was just talking to her like, a week ago you know?

"Come on, you fucking.... Frankenstein's monster of a fucking..." Cyan's working on something, it seems, a snaking mass of wires spilling out of the door of his van and into the main house. He's dressed in his usual garb, clothes too expensive for Huntsville with a silicone skull pendant held between his teeth, gnawing at it absently as brown eyes narrow. "I give you LIFE and this is how you repay me!?" He groans, releasing his grasp on the sea of cables and staggering back to lean against the door of the van, rifling around in his jeans before procuring a lighter, pulling a blunt from behind his ear and sparking the end, a long drag before he pushes a hand through messy dark hair, loose against his shoulders today. "Okay, Silas, you got this. You're a smart man- some might call you a genius, in fact- you can defeat a place that's technology only extends to 2012."

He's not so sure, really, as he slumps against the van and exhales a cloud of smoke up and away from himself, glancing to the side as somebody approaches. "Mm. Men at work. Sorry, lost the sign." He insists, tattooed arms crossed across his chest. "But forreal, don't fuck with my cables, okay? I'm on the edge of a breakthrough here." His breakthrough is blocking the sidewalk, to be fair, and he looks closer to a breakdown. "What's up, buttercup?" Well, at least the weed's working.

Where: Greenview Public Library Who: Jill @murphysreruns

"Mr. Inomata. Take your skates off the study tables." CJ sighs, tugging his ice skates and duffle bag from practice off the tabletop beside him as the head librarian walks off.

"Didn't know my shoes were going to hurt everyone's pursuit of knowledge. Fuck." He rolls his eyes before returning his attention to the open books beside him and the half-finished report on his computer screen. Notoriously behind the curve on most of his assignments, CJ had managed, at the very least, to get his English teacher to pity him and give him an extension on a report that had been due in december- but now he was three days out from the due date and only 4 pages in on eight minimum. He'd come here for peace and quiet after hockey practice, but he's finding it hard to focus- especially when the pen to his iPad rolls down the table as his duffle bag settles on the floor. "Fuck." It comes to rest next to someone else's arm, and he calls out softly. "Psst. Pssst! Hey! Abbott. Can you roll that back over here?"

Where: Campus Who: CJ and Kaleb @stormymists

"I don't know, man, I didn't exactly go about trying out for the show with the thought 'oh man it'll sure be awful for ticket sales if it comes out I'm our local scarlet letter!' but short of recasting me- which, I assure you, they can try, but it will make the show worse- there's not much we can do about it. Toss a fucking musical number in the middle featuring the ensemble so nobody has to look at my face, I guess." It's just CJ and a friend from theater clearing out the storage space today by the looks of it, racks of clothes pulled outside and a handful of boxes already stocked with props and costumes on their way out. He pauses, though, and whether it's the sound of footsteps approaching or the realization his companion has been inside this whole time, he turns.

"Oh, Hey Kaleb." He monotones, tossing another shirt into the box beside him and another onto the rack. "What's up?"