Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lucas held the hot cup in his prosthetic hand, using his good one to rub over his face. This? This was the definition of insanity. It wasn't doing the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome, it was trying to solve one uncertainty and opening pandora's ******** box of bullshit.

"I, uh -- " He exhaled sharply, leaning over to take one of the cookies. "Thanks," he murmured, nibbling at it with distant eyes, seeing images and memories of a different time.

The cookie did not help with how dry his mouth felt. Drinking from the coffee again, he only stopped when his tongue hit that pinnacle of scalding that it was almost numb. "Mn. So she's -- if I'm -- if you're saying I'm a werewolf," his tone indicated he still wasn't sold on that, "and I'm like her, and she's your sister, then -- what does that make you?"

"She knew enough to appear in my room in the dead of night. Knew what buttons to push." The coffee wasn't helping. He felt like he was swallowing desert sands with each tip of conversation. It was too bad they'd both agreed to keep Thorne out of it -- he could have used some reassurance.

Lucas shook his head and finished the cookie, more to free up his hand then out of hunger. "What -- what would any of this have to do with the Other place that I haven't seen or been a part of? There's enough monsters over there, why would -- why would you see a turning point here?" His pale gaze fell heavy upon the red-head. "Does it have to do with -- Autumn called someone The Gardener, someone who wants things normal. Is this tied in or different?"

The coffee cup was put on the desk before it could betray his shaking. Lucas slowly ran both hands over his face while Aleksy talked, trying to listen over the thundering of his heart in his ears. He listened, even as his metallic hand stayed poised over half of his face, eyes fixated over his knuckles.

"I don't understand," he snapped back, dropping his hand, eyes narrowed, "because no one can speak in full goddamn sentences." Lucas clenched his teeth, counted backwards from five, and tried again. "The day I met Autumn was the day this was all -- being exposed to me. She likened it to Silent Hill. But she couldn't - or wouldn't - tell me anything more. I met Zac, this smart and good-hearted teen, who has probably done more research on the place than a library can hold who still couldn't answer anything. Now," a growl edged around his words, the prosthetic hand on the lip of the desk, "you're calling me a werewolf, saying it's your sister that is manifesting on my bed and making a limb turn into part animal and that I should just stop freaking out? I just want some damn answers! Sense is a bit be-damned by now, just -- "

He sat back abruptly in the chair, jaw working, very nearly glaring over the table. "All I want to do is understand, without analogies, without terror." He paused. "I lost my arm when a humvee flipped and cut it off at the window," he finished, clipped, "and my leg when the engine decided it wanted to be in my lap."

"I'm trying," he responded through his teeth. But Aleksy seemed set in his ways and what he believed and despite Lucas having been his first vision of werewolf, the red-head seemed to refuse to believe that his sister was involved. He realized, with dismay, he still wasn't going to get the answers he wanted.

"I didn't get to ask, I was out cold," was his disinterested reply. "I don't know what I need to know, Aleksy. I've never been to your Otherworld, I'm not affected by it in any way that I can tell you. You can't tell me anything about why you see me as a werewolf, so I imagine -- you can't help me after all."

There was no derision in his voice, just a tiredness. Everyone was 'Other Ashdown' this and that and whatever it was, was not his particular problem. "If you want to ask me anything, that's fine. But I'm -- I think I'm tapped out." Fresh out of questions, fresh out of ******** class="quote">

Jeremiah. That was Zac's Guardian, also part of this hooplah? There really was no escaping it...except him, it seemed. Lucas pursed his lips against the memories that weren't his but were, nodding slightly. "Memories I can't focus on. Thorne was there, but it wasn't quite him, I -- I can't ever seem to recall it clearly." He paused. "The only thing that's real is the taste of his blood and flesh in my mouth."

Just with those words alone, his fight dimmed, and miserable set in.

Lucas shook his head, slow, but he was listening, even if he wasn't understanding. He had no way of knowing what was real, but damn if he didn't still get that taste randomly and unbidden at times. How was he supposed to know?

"What I understand," he said at length, "is men. The folly and hubris of men, the wars, theology, I get that. It's ridiculous and violent and horrible, but it makes sense." His eyes flickered back to Aleksy's face, lips quirked in that same misery. "This s**t? I don't pretend to understand it, but that explains why Autumn is always neck-deep, with Rosalinde." He shrugged a little. "If I'm a werewolf, doesn't that negate the Otherworld? Means I'm a dog after all."

I'm not a wolf, he wanted to say, but he was tired of chasing his proverbial tail.

"Don't worry, you're not the first, probably not the last," he chewed the words like they were distasteful. "Appreciate the attempt." Lucas pushed himself to stand, agitation making his limbs ache more than usual. If he'd had his running prosthetic on, he'd probably run as fast as he could, see if he could leave his troubles in the dust.

Spreading his hands uselessly, he asked, "Anything I can do for you that isn't scaring the s**t out of you, for now?"

"Then I better be getting them for free," Lucas grumbled in return. "Let's see what you've got, bright-eyes."