From the Vast

Interlude X: Happenstance

What the hell had he just run into?

Muffled electronic music filled Dan's ears as he made his way home, combining with an ill-fitted coat to shield him from the depressing surroundings. It was still cold, and his nose was still an obnoxiously large target for any stray raindrops, but he'd bear through the former and had his methods to ease the latter. For once, though, his mind was focused on something entirely unrelated to what either of his usual senses were feeding him, replaying the scene he had just witnessed on a loop.

It stumped him in a way not much did anymore. Was that a drug drop gone awry? Some sort of gang intimidation? He'd seen these two kids around quite a bit, and while their records were far from spotless, they were nowhere near bad enough for him to suspect them of dealing with organized crime. Then again, they didn't end up actually getting hurt. Frightened and held in place, yes, but not hurt. Didn't notice any manipulation either, though that might've just been because of the distance.

Further confounding it was the fact that, as far as he could tell, the psychics were coming from the tall one and not either of the mons. The thought made him chuckle under his breath; the mental image of some stray wildling putting on their best hobo impression was too far-fetched to be real, amusing as it was.

Not his business either way, especially since nobody got hurt.

Clearing his mind, Dan upped the volume a couple of notches just in time for the drop, head banging all the while. A lotta noise—most of which his dad couldn't stand, but it was exactly what he needed. Took quite a bit of talking and thinking to square the circle of his preferences without subjecting his old man to what he'd so candidly described as 'the sounds of blenders being tortured to death', but eventually, they arrived at their current solution.

Custom molded earbuds were the priciest investment of his life so far, but also the ones by far the most worth it.

Completing his most favorite kind of overstimulation was the small trinket in his off-hand, sliding up and down along its string roughly in tune with the beat. It'd still be a while until he could time it right, but the progress he had so far was already motivating enough.

It also inspired the mental image of him walking up to a wildling cousin and just giving them a yo-yo of their own. Also a trinket on a string, but one they could do so much more with instead of just obsessively polishing it! Win-win as far as he was concerned! Oh well—

...

...

Oh shit.

His heart skipped a beat as he focused on the sensations he could just barely make out a few streets down, bright and noticeable in the most distressing way possible. A part of him wanted to ignore it and run, to just hope it'd solve itself; it's not like this stuff didn't happen all the time whether he was there or not—but he couldn't. Of course he couldn't, he'd know he could've done something but didn't.

He already had enough things to judge himself for as is.

A deep breath never hurt to get his head straight in situations like these, but he had no idea how much time he had—might as well head over as he chewed through what he'd even do. Just like dad said—acknowledge it, measure it, mitigate it. He'd acknowledged it alright, and from the little he could measure it, it looked dire but not critical yet.

Now to mitigate it.

Dan struggled to think of what he'd say to the stranger as he speed-walked down the wet pavement; the din of rain and even his music completely tuned out by now. He needed to have a plan or else he'd just make it all worse—especially if he started panicking or was too serious. It'd have to be something casual, yet attention-grabbing. Let's see...