Edge of the Park, by the playground, Wednesday afternoon

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

Eliot wasn't really the most together guy these days, but he was still pretty damn observant. He might not remember what he'd observed by an hour from now, necessarily, but he still noticed things.

Like how the island looked a little different than usual. He was pretty sure. Cleaner? Lighter? It actually looked kinda . . . nice. Out there.

Maybe he should go for a walk. He liked walks. Maybe he'd find Parker and Hardison.

Parker and Hardison were dead. He had to kill them.

It looked like a nice day for a walk.

[Open!]

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[geniuswithasmartphone]

Most days, Hardison was content being a brilliant hacker-slash-super-genius and part of the world's best crew. He didn't much mourn for his lack of superpowers or magical abilities, even on an island full of them. Later, however, he would be feeling his lack of precognition quite keenly, tempted to a ridiculous degree by the idea of having some kind of extra-sensory power that would give him a bad feeling or an arachnid-sense or something whenever his day was about to go precipitously downhill. Unlike most of the other longtime residents of the island, he literally had no idea that anything bad was on the horizon, that his reality was blinking in and out with another, or that the Eliot he'd just spotted was anyone other than his own.

In retrospect, it wasn't even the weird clothes, the beard, or even the general air of murder-hobo that should have given it away, but the fact that his Eliot, proper Eliot, would never let his hair get into that kind of state.

But Hardison, three-quarters of his brain still on the coding problem he'd left in the apartment, just saw Eliot and was jogging over to catch up with him before consciously noticing any of those pertinent details.

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

Eliot's body tensed for a fight before his mind even managed to register that someone was approaching.

Ah, instincts.

He peered into the fog, hand moving to the tree-branch club he kept tucked between his excess of layers. Someone was coming. No, right, he got that part. New question: was it a person?

It looked like one. Assuming he was remember correctly what people looked like.

"That's close enough," he called. His voice, never exactly smooth to begin with, sounded like wagon wheels on a gravel road. He coughed roughly into his scarf.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Eliot?" And once again, Hardison focused on the wrong thing, concerned more about the cough than how odd Eliot sounded. Looked. Seemed. He rushed towards Eliot, worried that his stalwart boyfriend was coming down with a cold. "Yo, you okay?"

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

"Dammit, Hardison," Eliot said, again acting on muscle memory before his brain could even kick into gear.

Huh. He hadn't known he remembered that.

-- Shit, Hardison. Hardison was dead. Hardison liked to kill people now. Eliot backed off again, his conviction not to attack anyone battling with his conviction not to let either of his partners kill any more people and leaving him shaking. "I said that's close enough!"

He had said that, right? He was pretty sure he'd said that.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"You sick, man?" Hardison asked, looking Very Worried now. He didn't stop, of course he didn't. Eliot was in need and he was going to him, no matter how sick he was. "Yo, I'mma call Parker, we'll get you back to your house an' take care of you."

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

"Parker's here, too?" Eliot had his club out and at the ready in an instant, and he quickly spun in place, scanning the immediate area. He didn't see her anywhere, but -- Parker. Not seeing her didn't mean a damn thing.

He got turned around again just in time to get his club up between himself and Hardison, a last ditch attempt to keep him at bay. He couldn't do this yet. Dammit, he wasn't ready, not yet. He still looked so much like Hardison.

"Ain't . . . got a house," he said. He was losing track of the narrative. "Ain't had one since. . . ."

Since what?

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"You're delirious," Hardison said. "Where's Val? And where did you get a--is that a club?!" What the hell was going on here.

Wait--no, sick or not, Eliot was not capable of growing that kind of beard in the few hours since he'd seen him last. This had to be some kind of Fandom thing, right? Where people were replaced by other people, like that time Eliot had become that hot, nerdy librarian.

"Yo, who are you?" he asked, skidding abruptly to a halt in what he hoped was out of clubbing range.

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

Only in Fandom was amount of hair a barometer for reality.

"That some kinda trick?" Eliot growled. "You're the one who was just callin' to me a minute ago."

Hardison wasn't this vocal anymore, was he? Eliot felt like he hadn't heard this voice in so long -- but who knew? He might've heard it yesterday.

Fuck, he couldn't keep track.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

'Only in Fandom' could be said about a lot of things.

RIght. Okay, hell, this was Eliot. He'd answered to his name and the way he moved was the same. He'd been responding to the million little things that had screamed 'Eliot' to him long before he'd noticed the man's actual appearance.

"You're Eliot, but you ain't my Eliot," he said slowly. "Did you just show up here? Is my Eliot wanderin' around from whatever...murder hobo town you stumbled outta?"

[soniaroadsqueen]

Ringo was still only just beginning to piece together that something was Wrong. Jono had warned them during class, and she kept running into, well, people who weren't quite themselves. Still, she'd gotten so used to the "normal" of Fandom, that it didn't occur to her that this Elliot was not the same one who'd taught shop the day before, so seeing how, well, distracted he looked had her worried.

"Um, are you okay?" she asked, interrupting her afternoon ride through town to slow down and drift over toward him.

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

Yeah, speed was a big red flag for Eliot, who dropped back and into a crouching stance, the club he kept under his outer layers out and in his hand, but kept low at his side.

"Don't hit till they hit you," he mumbled. It was one of the few things he could still count on always remembering. As long as he didn't let go of the violence he kept inside, he wouldn't turn into one of them.

. . . Had she spoken to him? Shit. He should probably say something back, right?

"Hi."

There. That worked.

[soniaroadsqueen]

That club had her wary, but he still sounded like Mister Spencer. If, you know, a little bit off.

"Hi," she parroted back, holding her empty hands up placatingly. Then she repeated herself. "Are you okay?"

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

Eliot looked at her like she'd lost her damn mind. Which, really now. "The hell kinda question is that?"

Nobody was okay.

[soniaroadsqueen]

Ringo blinked, surprised all over again.

"Um."

How was she supposed to respond to that?

"A, uh, polite one?"

Maybe?

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

"What're you, new?"

Rude, Eliot.

[soniaroadsqueen]

"Um. No?" Ringo looked around, as if she could spot something that would explain why he was acting so weird.

"I was in your class yesterday, remember?"

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

"'Course not." It wasn't like Eliot's serious memory issues weren't a known thing in the village, after all.

Still, mentions of class and Ringo's apparent age both sent him straight into protective adult mode, and he straightened out of his crouch again and looked past her, scanning the streets.

"Ain't safe out here, darlin'. You need to get back to the village."

[uncertain_dume]

"I don't like this," Kanan was muttering to himself as he took the dog out for a walk. "I don't like this, I don't like this..."

Maybe say that a few more times, just a little louder, Kanan. There were some ducks who still couldn't hear you, way in the back. Even Stance was whimpering, his nose working overtime to sniff at whatever was lurking in the fog.

"Just hurry up and do your business so we can get out of here, pal," Kanan muttered, squinting at the other figure in the park. "Just in case you weren't aware? I've got a real bad feeling about this."

Stance whined again, but that wasn't stopping him from taking a minute to sniff at a nearby tree. Dogs would be dogs.

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

Honestly, someone wandering around muttering to himself about how terrible things were was the most normal thing Eliot had seen since wandering out of the village this afternoon.

"Least someone around here has some damn sense."

Eliot was not including himself in this assessment.

[uncertain_dume]

"Yeah, the only people out there with more sense are the ones who aren't standing out here in this," Kanan replied, glancing over at...

Uh.

He squinted a little. There was something off about the man standing nearby. And not just because he looked like he hadn't showered in ages. He felt like he'd been carved apart from the inside.

"Eliot?"

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

What an apt description.

Eliot didn't recognize who Kanan was, but that was true about 99% of the people he saw every day, and most of them knew who he was, too. Kanan wasn't rushing up or looking like Eliot's evil dead boyfriend, so, you know, his day was even looking up.

"What?"

[uncertain_dume]

Yeah, today Kanan was regretting that he'd opened himself up to the Force even the slightest bit since coming to the island. That feeling was rattling around in his head now, just feeling... bad.

Jedi and bad feelings. Really. Just wait until he met the big, ethereal mess that was meant to be himself.

"Just making sure I had it right," he hedged, frowning a little. "You looking for something out here?"

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

Eliot frowned. He had no idea why he'd come out here. His whole morning was a big blank nothing.

Not that that was terribly unusual, these days.

"Probably," he said. "Or -- someone."

One of those. They were kind of the same thing, anyway.

[uncertain_dume]

"It's usually one or the other," Kanan allowed, watching quietly as Stance made his way a little closer to Eliot to sniff around him, less of a trot in his step out here today than usual. He was spooked nearly as much as Kanan was, apparently. "Want some company for that? Today seems like a good day to travel in numbers."

And, frankly, Kanan didn't feel right leaving Eliot alone out here.

[lostdistinction.livejournal.com]

Eliot examined Kanan out of the corner of his eye and tried to figure out why the guy set him a little on edge.

Ah. Right. He was clean.

"You ain't from around here."