Galactica Point, Sunday Evening

[suitably_heroic]

are u sure we cant stop by? he's worried

he's always worried Jill

yeh but ur never this weird

I'm going to take that as a compliment

nicholas come on you know what I mean

I'm fine. I'll be back at the end of the summer. I told you that.

It was a nice evening. Sun setting, not too warm, the kind of evening that made Fandom look almost magical. It had gotten Atton up and walking from his hotel room, restless, once again listening to Earth music through one earbud while his mind wandered all over. Trying to figure out why he was here, what he was hoping to get out of this, why he hadn't found it yet. And how it connected to the way he didn't feel so damned terrible to be here anymore, it was just-- a nostalgic kind of sad.

Thinking that kark it, sometimes he wished he was Anakin Skywalker. A man so black and white that, whatever drove him to brood, Atton bet the guy at least knew what it was.

He sucked in a breath of moist almost-oceanside air, and watched the low walls pass him by as he walked the perimeter of the old town again. Sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose, at least until he got to Galactica Point, his old haunt, and pushed them back up to between his eyes.

He parked his arms on the wall and stared out over the ocean.

At least whatever Spotify was coughing up matched his mood.

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