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Vanishing in figures.

I'm not a pantysniffer. I'm not a pervert.

When do I become this... superhero?

Maybe I ought to ignore you.
This is Simon's voicemail. Leave a message after the tone.


Room 230, Thursday Morning
Silence is a friend.
Simon hadn't really unpacked his things after they'd moved back from the campgrounds. No point. He'd made up his mind: it was time to go. Back to England, back to Alisha. Back to Nathan and Kelly and Curtis, and whatever lay in his future.

It would have been a lie to say he wasn't a little bit terrified. But he knew Alisha was waiting for him. And it was nearly Christmas. To his friends back home, it had only been some months since he'd left. He'd been here over a year. He'd gotten that much. He'd bought himself more time. He'd gotten to train far more than he would have had time to back home. And he'd had the opportunity to spend a year somewhere where he didn't have to hide what he could do. He'd had friends. That never ceased to amaze him.

And it was for that reason that while he'd considered leaving without goodbyes (like Nathan had), he'd decided against it. Instead, he'd sent out a simple text to the people he thought it might matter to. Just a brief note to say that he was leaving. If any of them came by while he was packing up the rest of his few possessions, he'd say his goodbyes.

[ooc: This is Simon's last post in Fandom (and assuming I don't get masochistic and crank out a post sketching out the things that happen to him after he leaves, his last post in this game ever). If you think you got the text, you did. Open door, open post.]

A Street in the Abandoned Warehouse District, Sunday Afternoon
[plot] Girl: Straight ahead.
Admittedly, Simon had been a little... freaked out, yesterday morning. To find himself smaller, more delicate. And with breasts. His first instinct had been to use his power and hide, with his invisibility, until he felt like he could breathe again.

He could breathe just fine today, and he was visible. He knew this would pass, because these things always did. Until then, he was going to use this to his advantage. As a challenge. He'd spent a lot of his time in the warehouse district, lately, climbing walls and running along the streets. He'd been getting used to it, even though that didn't mean he could do half the things he hoped to eventually be able to. Now, it felt new again. With this new body, he had something different to adjust to, something different to help him prepare for just about anything.

So, he was trying to scale a low wall. It wasn't going very well and he had a few scrapes but he was determined. At least it wasn't a very long way to fall.

[ooc: Mostly 'stablishy, but can be open if there's people around these parts of town!]

Room 230, Tuesday Afternoon
Something's amusing.
Simon had finally made it back to Fandom late last night. He'd missed all his finals but that didn't matter to him. He'd stayed in England because it was where he'd needed to be after everything had come back. He'd needed to be sure that everything really was okay.

That none of them were going to disappear again.

Even now, he'd just got off the phone with Alisha who was having trouble believing Fandom was only days from Christmas and had then demanded that he send her something American for as an early Christmas present. Having ended the call, he was smiling to himself as he rearranged some of the things on his desk and thought about what to send her.

[ooc: Open, albeit subject to SP since I'm all 'do ALL the things' right now.]

Room 230, Tuesday Afternoon
Screams in the night.
Nathan was gone. The one in Simon's home dimension, not the one that went to school here. Not that Simon was sure about the one here, either, and he was considering checking up on him.

But he wasn't sure he had the time. He'd scheduled yet another portal with far too many layovers, and he was packing. Almost frantically. He had no idea if there was anything he'd be able to do at home, but he knew he wanted to be where Alisha was.

As long as she was there.

He was trying not to think of the possibility that at some point, she might not be. He kept packing.

[ooc: Open door, open post! And yes, this'll probably be Simon's last interactive post before the BDE ends. Sigh, heroes.]

Simon's England, Friday Fandom Time
Oh no.
Simon was standing outside the community center.

Except the community center wasn't there. It was as if something had picked up the building, foundations and all. And it seemed to have taken the ground with it as well. What was left was... nothing. A hole in reality. It almost hurt to look at it, and yet Simon couldn't force himself to turn away.

Beside him, Alisha was frowning at him, arms crossed over her chest. "Simon? What is it?"

Startled by the question, he managed to pry his eyes away from... whatever it was. "Can't you see it?"

"See what?" she asked. "There's nothing there, Simon."


Her eyebrows knitted further together, and she shook her head. "I don't understand."

Simon swallowed and turned his gaze towards the sight that made no sense. No, he didn't understand either. But he knew it was bad.

[ooc: NFB, NFI.]

Room 230, Sunday Late Morning
Hanging out.
It had been a great big surprise once Alisha had finally managed to get a hold of Simon on Friday night. He'd been playing a game on his computer when she'd called, annoyed that he wasn't at the mixer and she couldn't surprise him properly by just walking up to him with a smile and a 'hiya'. He'd met up with her outside the community center (there was something familiar about that) and told her he was still surprised. In a good way. He'd never wanted to hug anyone so badly in his entire life. That was the only thing that had sullied an otherwise perfect moment.

It was the happiest he'd felt since... ever, pretty much.

He'd shown her around town, then escorted her back to her hotel. They'd spent most of Saturday off the island, exploring the mainland, just the two of them. Sunday morning was the first time he'd invited her up to his room. They were sitting on the floor (her idea) with their backs against his bed, and eating crisps (his idea). He was smiling. He'd been doing that a lot, this weekend. Enough to make him wonder whether his face was going to ache tomorrow from being unaccustomed to so much smiling.

He wouldn't mind it.

[ooc: Door and post are open for whoever.]

Room 230, Tuesday Afternoon
Silence is a friend.
In an... ununexpected turn of events, Simon was spending his afternoon by the computer, at his desk. Playing some random flash game he'd stumbled upon and couldn't seem to quit playing. Oh well. His classes were done for the week and he figured his run could wait until later.

He hadn't been out yet, so he didn't know whether the ill-advised campaign sign he'd helped hang up yesterday was still there. He had a feeling Wesley might have asked for it to be taken down since he wasn't even supposed to be running.

But that was none of his concern, really. So he was playing.

[ooc: Posted for that one girl who knows who she is, but open, sure!]

Room 230, Saturday Noon
Doesn't flaunt it.
Simon had been horribly ignored for the louder characters keeping to himself a lot over the past few weeks. He'd spent some time on trying to calculate just how much slower time was going back in his home world, because he was wanting to go back for a visit – he missed his friends, and his family too – but first he was going to need to understand how long he could afford to stay there without losing too much time in this world. It didn't seem too good, though, when calling Alisha twice within a week made her laugh and call him a co-dependent creep.

So, he did other things to take his mind off of that. Mostly, that meant going running around town, especially in the abandoned warehouse districts. Slowly, he'd been adding climbing to his repertoire. Climbing and jumping, though not from great heights yet. He wasn't ready.

As much was obvious, right now. He'd just come back from one of those trips to the warehouse district. He'd already showered, but he was standing shirtless in his room, examining the bruise on the upper part of one of his arms. Yes, he'd fallen down. Yes, it had hurt.

Yes, that meant he just needed to keep practicing.

[ooc: Door half open, post completely so!]

Somewhere in the Abandoned Warehouse District, Early Sunday Evening
[plot] Lovecraft: Monster.
Simon hadn't really slept for two days. Definitely not since early yesterday morning, when he'd found himself in possession of the beginning of a tail and a rapidly deteriorating mental state that kept whispering to him about power and pathetic little psycho freaks. He'd done the only thing he'd been able to think of to protect... everyone, and taken himself as far away from everyone as he could.

That had taken him to the old warehouse district, where he'd spent the day getting increasingly agitated, flickering into invisibility and back again, fighting the urge to find people and creatures and hurt them, losing more and more of himself to the other inside.

And even when he'd felt it start to subside, he hadn't been able to go back, hadn't been able to sleep. Too exhausted to think it was over, when he still looked like a monster. Felt like one. The beginning of a tail was gone, but his skin was still mostly gray, his eyes still pitch black. So he'd walked and he'd walked, invisible.

But by now it was the exhaustion that was making his head spin, and he was finally hitting a limit. Turning visible, he sank down to sit by a wall and wondered if he'd ever feel human again.

[ooc: Largely 'stablishy, but can be open if there's anyone else in this part of town, sure!]