[ when his eyes open, he’s scared. there’s a sense of panic rippling through every part of his body, but he can’t grasp why.. there’s a reason in there somewhere, muddled by red dust that chokes him and makes his vision blurry. it reminds him of something ( skitters ) but that memory ( just a flash ) evades him like everything else he’s trying to make tangible. he shuffles onward, going through the motions until he’s clean with a device in his hand, dressed in a jumpsuit he doesn’t recognize.

then it hits him all at once like a sledgehammer to the teeth. ]

No. [ he grits out. it’s not the silence, or an agreement that bothers him. it’s the sheer and utter terror of what’s missing. ] Hal! Matt! Dad!

[ and there's anne, lexi, weaver, and a dozen other names and faces flashing through his mind. those first three are never slow to leave his lips. he's searching frantically, digging his heels in, refusing to agree to anything until he finds his family. he's been torn away from them one too many times to count. if he has anything to say about it, he won't go down without a fight. ]

Where are they? Where's my family?

matt mason. hal mason. tom mason. anne mason. alexis glass-mason. weaver. maggie. if these names mean anything to you, please get in touch with me right away.

secondly, and don't feel obligated to indulge me, what's it's like where you're from?