Sometimes, Caliban just needs to be alone. Sometimes, he needs the night around him, the air breathing. In New York, sometimes he would go for walks in the middle of the night, sneaking out through the window, no matter how dangerous it was. Maybe because of how dangerous it was. There's always been something dark in Caliban's heart, something that ( Read more... )

Once he stumbles and nearly falls, just catching himself, and it makes him look up. His eyes widen and he backs up. “No. No. Jesus Christ, no.” His eyes are wide and round as he backs up. “You can’t do this to me,” he says, hoarsely, and ducks behind a tree. He might be there, again. She might be there. And therefore he can’t be. If they could ( Read more... )

Caliban is outside, actually, sitting by the lake and rather deep in thought, though it's not clear even to him whether he's happy or not, knees drawn up to his chest and staring at the water, pitching rocks every so often.

He's kind of wanting to see people, actually - he's feeling better than he usually does. Probably because of the brother.

*is downstairs, actually, sprawled on a couch and looking serious. as usual.*

*plops by, sees Cal, grins and closes the distance.* Hey !

*looks up* Oh - hey, 'Nita!

Hey. *Pokes him* I'm ready. Shall we?

Sure. *drags himself up* Now or never, I guess. *alllmost a grimace*

*squeezes his shoulder.* It'll be alright, hun.

*bit of a smile ( Read more... )

*is in his room, brooding again. that conversation brought up some uncomfortable things.*

*well, is worried about Cal and half drunk - again - and comes to check on him. He knocks on the door*

S'open. *oh, Robin*

Hey kiddo. I'm off to see the wizard of Oz. Wanna come?

*eyebrows* What's that?

< Robin> *grins* found an old DVD

Oh, Christ ( Read more... )

Cal doesn't know what to think about this. On the one hand, Robin who mostly knows him as a homicidal bastard. On the other hand, it's Robin ( Read more... )

Caliban is actually feeling hungry, for the first time in a long while - and hence he's down in the kitchen, trying to scrape something together. It's not doing so well, evidenced by the way he's staring gloomily at the scrapings he's managed to amass and trying to decide what can be made with them.

Hellllo, city kid.

Caliban is sitting on the steps, frowning at his feet, determined not to cry. Niko doesn't cry, so he's not going to ( Read more... )

Caliban is outside again. He still looks battered, tired, and not well, but slightly better than he did, and at least he's been able to eat more. He's picking flowers, as a matter of fact, frowning at them as though he's not quite sure what they're doing there. And indeed, he's not quite sure he does know what they're doing there ( Read more... )

Caliban isn't whole yet by any stretch of the imagination. But the bags under his eyes are a little less, and while there's still a haunted look in his eyes when they're open, which they aren't right now, Sophia curled up on his bare chest where he's on his back on his bed. He might be dead for all he moves except for the rise and fall of his chest ( Read more... )