#mathcs

It wasn't often that Alvin got a cryptic text from Jude. Text, yes. Cryptic, no. He stared at it thoughtfully.

* Could you come by the lab when you have some time? Thanks!

Well, today wasn't a busy one; it was the end of the work week and the deliveries were done. All he'd been doing was paperwork.

"Hey, Yurgen? Jude needs me to drop by for something."

"Yeah, sure, Alvin. Stay out of trouble for once, all right?"

"Can't make that promise, could be a lie. I'll do my best, though. See ya."

-----------------------------

Fifteen minutes later Alvin had talked his way past the receptionist and up to Jude's floor. The kid's door was ajar, so he poked his head in, only to find Jude neck-deep in his own paperwork, as usual.

@mathcs

//ooc. Oop, tee hee!

The nights of Xian Du are windy at this time of year, with a chill that seemed to sweep right through his clothes and into his bones. Rubbing his bare hands together, Emilio gazes out at the vast expanse of mountains and towering stone buildings, the colourful banners of Auj Oule now reduced to dark, inky shadows fluttering in the air. There's a pretty good view here near the front gates of the inn, and somehow the sights looked even more striking in the dark, away from the daytime merchants' hustle and bustle.

This city is a sharp departure from the mild pleasantness of Leronde, but...Emilio couldn't say he disliked it. The crisp air had been good for clearing his head, though he's still at a loss for what to think about those Exodus agents they'd been running into. Should he tell someone? Leia? Jude? But what little he can recall isn't necessarily useful information and, really, everything related to that part of his life had been so long ago, maybe it isn't even relevant anymore...

Emilio stifles a sneeze as another gust of wind sweeps over him, wrinkling his nose but not wanting to return to the stuffy inn room just yet. At least here he could walk around and stretch his legs, not needing to worry about disturbing others–

There's a creak as the door behind him opens. Emilio turns around, blinking in surprise.

As if things weren't bad enough in the world, it had started to rain some time ago. The already gloomy appearance of Lake Epsilla just seemed amplified by the bad weather and the miasma permeating the air. How long had it been now since he'd learned Milla, Jude, and the others had died? Weeks? Months?

Does it even matter?

Jude had been working so hard to make spyrites work. Milla had given them extra time to make sure things would work out. Now both of them and their friends were gone, and Ivar was left to deal with the aftermath. All the same, he was no closer to trying to avenge any of them. He'd only really been surviving and doing what he could for people and animals he saw that were in trouble. Outside of that, the only things keeping him going were the desire to do something about the present state of things and the knowledge that Milla probably wouldn't have wanted him to wallow. Carrying on was hard, though. The task was harder still when the world seemed to be falling apart at every possible way. But he kept going. He had to. For Milla, Jude, and everyone else.

A low rumble of thunder brought Ivar out of his thoughts. Seemed like the storm was likely to get worse before it got better. A reflection of the world, perhaps? Or was that too poetic? Either way, he kept walking and eventually let his gaze drift down to the ground. The dirt seemed to have been disturbed as if someone had walked along the same path he was taking recently. His eyes grew wider.

Is someone else out here?

Anyone else might have stopped to think about it for a moment longer. If there was someone there, they could have been from Spirius or just someone that wouldn't be too happy to see him there. Ivar didn't care, though. Common sense was thrown to the side in favor of finding out who else would be daring enough to be in the gloom and rain. He ran forwrad.

As he rounded a bit large sort of outcropping of rocks, Ivar stopped dead in his tracks with his breath caught in his throat. This... wasn't possible. It shouldn't have been possible. But that hair... those clothes...

"N...no way."

"Jude?!"

Maybe the hair was slightly different, Ivar realized as he looked a bit closer. That also could have been the rain's doing. This had to be some sort of trick, though, right? Maybe... maybe he was a Jude from a fractured dimension like the other Milla, he tried to reason. Jude was supposed to be dead. All of his friends were, too. But there was no mistaking the way the other boy carried himself. Disbelief gave way to a moment of relief. If that really was Jude, then someone he knew was still alive.