that's his argument, always. they're all gonna die anyways, so what's the point? what's the point in walking the easy road, observing from afar? he doesn't want to see life. he wants to splash in it. he wants to drown in it. by the time he's gasping for air, he wants to be so sick of it that it's finally time. sometimes, when he's at his peak, he feels close to that precipice.

arms itch. his kit's at home, but the bag's another sort of ride. and the boy next to him is his friend now, so he pulls it out with a wink and licks his finger.

he dips it back in the bag and puts the snow to his gums. they tingle and he exhales, eyes narrowing. he scrunches his nose--phantom pain--and shakes his head as the ice starts to crawl back around him. the grass presses against his arms and the stars shine just a bit brighter. he holds the ziploc out to this boy, and his voice is sing-song as he says, "easy. i live every day like it's my last."

samuel carter

☉

he doesn't say anything, but he doesn't take up on knox's offer. that's fine, really. he just takes another smidgeon for himself, this time pulling it by his nose, and then pockets it again. energy thrums through him, but he can't stop staring at the stars; they wink in and out as the fog rolls over the two boys.

"so much pressure with that mindset," knox says. he sighs. "i'd be okay if it happened--right now."

at least he wouldn't be lonely.

he looks to the side and nearly sneezes as a dandelion tickles his nose. the sableye is a pokemon flung out of someone's nightmare, and although the ghost is still a tad unsettling, there's something comical about its catlike perch on its trainer. knox chuckles. "never been around many ghost tamers. my sis hates 'em." understandable, given her type specialty.

samuel carter

☉

he wouldn't be left behind if he were to die tonight. he wouldn't become that thing on sam's chest. that's how ghost stories work, right? you only stay if you missed something, if you still have something to accomplish. the best person to ask that is right there, but he doesn't. because he doesn't need to. because it wouldn't happen anyway.

he bites his lip.

"you speak from tragedy." the words come unbidden from his lips, but he doesn't try to take them back. the bubbly, over-the-top demeanor dies, for a brief moment, and there is a sadness that wells up inside of him. there is the realization, staring him in the face, its haunted, ugly guise rearing to strike. his lips curl and he runs a hand through his hair. shake it out. put the shell back on.

"or you could just keep going up, up, up, 'til that last moment, when you gotta come down." he chuckles.

samuel carter

☉

knox blows air between his lips in a pshhh sound. it's like they're on different sides of a pond. their reflections are nigh identical, but just a little bit bent. but the knox charm is to drag someone into his party, to give them a new set of eyes, if only for a few hours. he's escape and he's nirvana and the coke is making him feel like he wants to dive.

so why shouldn't he? he rolls to his side and he looks at the man, and he watches the way he watches the stars above him, and the whirlwind inside of him is calmed. for a brief respite, it's calmed.

he tucks the name away. for another time. because somewhere out there, off this mountain, they will meet each other again, and he will cut away the chains this man - sam - has wrapped around himself.

he's good at that, at making people feel free.

"knox fletcher," he says. he's usually quite forthcoming with his name, despite the family's infamy (another stick it to the man shtick, he supposes), but he doesn't want to sully that trust. he'll need that trust, to give sam what he needs in return.

"sounds like you're waiting to slip and fall. i learned that about life real quick - it'll shit all over you if it gets the chance. no preparin' for that."

samuel carter

☉

he laughs. "look, i just call 'em like i see 'em." but he wouldn't go so far as to say the boy beside him is boring. just...frightful. tentative. those aren't inherently bad things. they are, however, things that knox tends to rip away from someone, given enough time. he may be icarus, but he won't fly to the sun alone.

very rarely does he find himself in a spot where he's in a one-on-one battle. his pokemon are utility, tools (though he would never refer to them as such), and scurry about him while he cooks up elaborate shams, distractions so he can sneak into his targets' pockets.

he blinks, albeit slowly. is he the only one who sees the electricity popping between their eyes? a living, breathing thing. "i aim to please," he says with a wink.

samuel carter

☉

he snorts. "making assumptions already? boy, you better take me out to dinner first." his tone is a joking one. that electricity still sizzles and pops and his addled brain says, are you falling in love?

he breaks his own heart that way - it's been shattered my strangers' smiles, minute kisses, one time flings, a few scant moments of connection. he falls in love with everyone he meets. it's chemical/transcendal. one should consider it a miracle that he hasn't tried to close the distance between them yet.

it's the stars humming above him, because he loves them too, loves them more, right now. they shine so much more brilliantly than this wisp of a boy beside him - all smoke and mirrors. he doesn't know him well enough to appreciate the way sam is solidifying, at peace in his flesh.

"i used to know the constellations," he says wistfully and then, hopefully, "do you know any?"

samuel carter

☉

the only constant. but there have been times when he's looked up to the stars for guidance, for some sort of poetic epiphany, and all he'd seen were dark clouds of gray. a child with some grasp of object permanence could tell him they're still there, even when he can't see them, but for knox, seeing is believing. he is action - unstoppable force, kinetic. 

and the brilliant lights, that wavering white, on the edge of his vision is fading again, but he's thoroughly distracted, still drinking in the idea of lazing next to this boy while he rattles off the stars.

"we're closer to them, up here. i wonder if the others realize that." he speaks of the mourners, the lost, the people come searching for answers atop this sad, lonely mountain. have they ever looked up?

samuel carter

☉