05-24-2026, 11:26 PM
Las Vegas, Nevada. The Family hated that place: 'cartoonish' was the word most frequently assigned with a heavy sneer, all vice infantilized and turned into a playground. The apotheosis of nothing mattering, a Shangri-La built in the desert, recklessly defiant. Actions have consequences. Things should matter.
Jude does know Courtland's handwriting. The shock of recognition blanches the frown from his face. 'Best friend' projects an equality between Jude and Courtland that did not exist; 'father' is too foreign a concept for a being that was born already ten years old. Courtland represented something far more abstract: hope.
He has not been hopeless these past months, but he has certainly not been hopeful. Near is gifted as reminding Jude how despair tastes. Suddenly, Near holds hope in his hands. Jude's fingers curls into the couch, his forearms and thighs tensing as he restrains himself from moving too suddenly.
Since you knew him better than me.
He doesn't answer that right away. Jude has been focused on the Big Picture, which is that great and terrible Somethings will come through from another dimension to this one, enslaving humanity for the rest of its days. The drama of an estranged father and son is microscopic by comparison. It has not so much as crossed Jude's mind, until now.
He wants the key. He needs the key. He stands, slowly, and takes the paper carefully from Near's hand. He begins to immediately memorize the address. "Not off the top of my head," he says, the words dripping out. But it does not escape Jude's notice, that LN DYER is in a place Jude has specifically never been, the capital of charlatans and pageantry.
Jude does know Courtland's handwriting. The shock of recognition blanches the frown from his face. 'Best friend' projects an equality between Jude and Courtland that did not exist; 'father' is too foreign a concept for a being that was born already ten years old. Courtland represented something far more abstract: hope.
He has not been hopeless these past months, but he has certainly not been hopeful. Near is gifted as reminding Jude how despair tastes. Suddenly, Near holds hope in his hands. Jude's fingers curls into the couch, his forearms and thighs tensing as he restrains himself from moving too suddenly.
Since you knew him better than me.
He doesn't answer that right away. Jude has been focused on the Big Picture, which is that great and terrible Somethings will come through from another dimension to this one, enslaving humanity for the rest of its days. The drama of an estranged father and son is microscopic by comparison. It has not so much as crossed Jude's mind, until now.
He wants the key. He needs the key. He stands, slowly, and takes the paper carefully from Near's hand. He begins to immediately memorize the address. "Not off the top of my head," he says, the words dripping out. But it does not escape Jude's notice, that LN DYER is in a place Jude has specifically never been, the capital of charlatans and pageantry.