an afternoon in chicago
Daniel Faraday is living on a roller coaster. You'd think that his inner physicist would find roller coasters fun and exciting, right?
Unfortunately, this is not the case; he dislikes heights. He's adapted well enough to it, given the circumstances, but the ride he's on is still wholly unpredictable. Just when he thinks he's about to start a climb up, he's spun around a loop; when he thinks he's about to slow down, he speeds up on a steep drop.
You get the idea.
Right now, he's on a turn. He's gained near complete control over his power, he's gone almost two weeks without looking like he's just left a funeral, and he's made a considerable amount of money through his tutoring services. But (there's always a "but," isn't there?) the fact remains that he is very, very lonely. Juliet's here, Miles is here (Dan was very surprised when he noticed his co-worker in the park one day, but said nothing), and he's made friends with quite a few people, but (there it is again)... he's still lonely. He supposes this is a normal feeling for Wanderers; this isn't his world, after all, no matter how many people from home are here. There's only one person who could make this place feel like home, and he's fairly certain she's not going to ever show up.
For some morbid reason, this train of thought has led him to the coffee shop, where he's found himself a table positioned over the exact spot he died.
And there he sits, placidly, with a mug of tea in his hands.
Meanwhile, over in Grant Park, Conway Rankin and his dog are having a grand old time playing a game of "I'll throw the ball and you can just watch it roll away while I tell you to get it and you ignore me."
It's quite exciting.
Conway can't quite figure out why he's tempted to chase the ball, but that's something he'll figure out later.
(Bwahahaha.)
Unfortunately, this is not the case; he dislikes heights. He's adapted well enough to it, given the circumstances, but the ride he's on is still wholly unpredictable. Just when he thinks he's about to start a climb up, he's spun around a loop; when he thinks he's about to slow down, he speeds up on a steep drop.
You get the idea.
Right now, he's on a turn. He's gained near complete control over his power, he's gone almost two weeks without looking like he's just left a funeral, and he's made a considerable amount of money through his tutoring services. But (there's always a "but," isn't there?) the fact remains that he is very, very lonely. Juliet's here, Miles is here (Dan was very surprised when he noticed his co-worker in the park one day, but said nothing), and he's made friends with quite a few people, but (there it is again)... he's still lonely. He supposes this is a normal feeling for Wanderers; this isn't his world, after all, no matter how many people from home are here. There's only one person who could make this place feel like home, and he's fairly certain she's not going to ever show up.
For some morbid reason, this train of thought has led him to the coffee shop, where he's found himself a table positioned over the exact spot he died.
And there he sits, placidly, with a mug of tea in his hands.
Meanwhile, over in Grant Park, Conway Rankin and his dog are having a grand old time playing a game of "I'll throw the ball and you can just watch it roll away while I tell you to get it and you ignore me."
It's quite exciting.
Conway can't quite figure out why he's tempted to chase the ball, but that's something he'll figure out later.
(Bwahahaha.)