[There's that feeling again.
Sinclair doesn't know when that feeling started, but he knows it has always been present.
Unlike with Kromer, the presence didn't loom over him, suffocating him with fear.
He wasn't actually know what the feeling was; was it warmth when he felt the vivid delight as he tripped headfirst into a trashcrab's innards?
Definitely not.
But he had felt its protection when the waves moved just so and the monster had been caught up in the tide.
Strange. That had been warm, safe, even.
But there was no time to dwell back then, no one to ask - how could he when Ishmael and Heathcliff were ready to rip each other's throats out, and Dante was frantically trying to pull them together? That would be causing trouble they didn't need.
They're traveling across the Great Lake in search of the Golden Bough, but for once, there's a moment to rest.
Faust had called a reprieve of five hours before the Laws of the Lake would force their bus-turned-boat to flee to the next section. While everyone else had taken their shelter in their rooms, Sinclair had decided to come back outside onto the deck, leaning against a railing.
This wasn't what he had imagined the lake to look like, twisted with toxins and monsters. But in the false serenity that enveloped the bus, he thinks he could imagine it was much like the novels he used to love reading; crystal blue waters, an orange sky kissed with pink clouds like cotton candy drifting along in the faint breeze...
He breathes in the salty air and draws himself still.
Ah. That feeling...was it...? He looks around nervously]
...is someone there?
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[2. Now with a high school AU]