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Flowers. He was going to leave flowers in her place until she was back. They'd be fresh and would start to fight off the horrendous stench the meat had left. Because she would come back. There was no other option.

Lucas was -- worn. A lot had happened in the last week and it seemed more was yet to come. He was tired. With an aching arm, he made sure the door didn't slam behind him, and it was understandably why he was confused that by the time he'd turned around again, the person he'd seen at the counter upon entering was...not there anymore.

Pale eyes flit around the room, brows furrowed. There was no where else for them to go. A soft rumble escaped him, an unvoiced word of bemusement. "Hello?" he called, uncertain, approaching the counter to make sure there was no hidden door he was missing.

He froze, his skin chilling with goosebumps. It was not the first time he'd been asked that, but it was the first time he'd been asked by someone he'd never even met.

Lucas ran his tongue behind his teeth, trying to combat his dry mouth and feeling of being cornered. The door was behind him. He could just leave. It seemed like a good idea but when did it cross from leaving a problem to running from himself?

"I don't know," he replied quietly, deciding on honesty. Lucas hesitated, wavering on his feet before he offered just as softly, "Should I go?"

Lucas' eyes narrowed slightly when the other emerged from behind the desk. Another red-head. Didn't that just figure.

The words earned a sharp downward turn of his lips, looking behind himself to try and see if he could catch his reflection in the windows. From what little he could see at that distance, he looked like himself, just grumpier. Turning back to the man, Lucas subtly shook his head. "I'm very much half man and half machine."

But what about the teeth, the blood, the images --

Closing his eyes against the wave of thoughts that were in near constant assault, he held out his prosthetic hand. "I don't have a right hand, but go ahead." The metallic fingers curled out towards the flower clerk, lidded eyes turning over the man's face. There was something telling him this wasn't the first time he'd seen the other, but damn if he could place how or why.

"...have we met?"

"Nor the arm attached to it. Why?" Lucas felt his spine tighten, not sure which way to go with this guy. On the one hand, he was hitting the nail on the proverbial head with what he was saying, but on the other...he didn't seem to be able to see him, standing right there. In front of him.

Turning to face the red-head, his frown remained, watching him move. "With all due respect, you've hidden from me and you can't see me right in front of you. I'm not too keen on following you somewhere when you're not making a lick of sense."

Lucas was far from belligerent, and yet, being talked to like a doctor refusing to meet the eyes of a cancer patient - by a flower clerk, nonetheless - was setting him on edge. "I just wanted some flowers. I'm not here to be read another riot act."

Lucas watched with slightly narrowed eyes, but the more the man tried to explain, the more he was able to piece together that this guy was part of that place. He told himself to breathe deeply, to center himself the best he could; his expression softened with a sigh.

"Other Ashdown, Autumn mentioned it." He was no longer surprised when her name fell from the lips of strangers. "But I didn't -- Thorne? He's -- ?" s**t. Because that guy didn't have enough bad things going on, now he was stuck dealing with this...?

"Too bad we can't just burn this place to the ground," he muttered, rubbing his good hand over his face. Of course, that made him think of Rylan - perhaps the only one he'd met that wasn't being bent over by this Other place. "Alright. Fine. I'll follow you." He exhaled slowly, shoulders slumping a little, waving his prosthetic hand with weak dismissal. "The flowers...can wait. I've had about enough the goings on without answers."

He paused, adding almost off-handedly, "I'm Lucas." His lips tightened into a thin line. And I'm the monster that scares the rest of you.

He accepted the cup with a quizzical glance towards the coffee maker, but honestly? Stranger things had happened. Were happening. Lucas sipped the rich, black liquid and made a soft sound of approval. It brought back fleeting memories of days he was whole, and standing, he watched Aleksy over the rim of the cup, slightly obscured by the steam.

A soft sound escaped him when the conversation returned to Thorne. "Good. I hope he never knows. The man has more than enough on his plate, he doesn't need...any of this." Lucas clenched his teeth in thought, trying not to recall the taste of the man's blood in tandem with his name. "He's -- Thorne's my neighbor. It'd just be nice to know someone isn't drowning in this."

God, it was the first person who was actually offering answers and now, standing there with the taste of dark roast on his tongue, Lucas was too tired to even think of questions. "...where does someone even start?" he asked, mostly to himself, looking down at the dark pool of liquid in his cup. His tongue flicked out over his lips, trying to think, trying to find some sort of place to grab and hold on and start something, but it was hard. It was all a jumble.

He thought of Zac, their conversation, and decided...he might as well start with himself. "Have you ever seen or heard of a woman with long red hair and a white tattoo up her arm?"

And just like that, his mouth went dry.

Lucas had to swallow with some difficulty, eyes fixated on the tattoo that was displayed. It clicked, then, why he thought Aleksy was familiar - the sister.

The dread and weight was immediately rear-ended by the question that followed, and Lucas look like he might have just been hit by a truck. "In so many words," he replied, slow and confused. "Unless he's that friendly with all his neighbors." What -- ?

And Aleksy was off again. Lucas finally had to take a seat, apparently not having the legs to stand through the roller coaster of Aleksy's thought process. "It's why I thought we met, maybe, if it's her," he finally said, his words dull and distant with shock. "Tatya? She...she appeared on my bed. Said she'd felt me awaken, and that I was like her." His mind, screaming on this carnival ride he never ******** signed up for, grasped for straws from their discussion. "She mentioned a boyfriend and that she had to wake up because it was almost dusk."

He hesitated a fraction of a moment longer. "She also touched my hand and it turned into a creature's, with fur and claws." A pause. "How...how trustworthy is your sister?" How trustworthy are you?