Observational Study, OPEN!

[Alexi]

Like an oasis of spring in a desolate place, the garden was the perfect place to escape and hide. The winds were gentle, making flowers and leaves move like frail dancers. The colours were vibrant and with the sun up, the flowers opened their wares to the insect world. Alexi crouched among the blooming, beautiful flowers of the garden. He was hidden under a thick-trunked tree. The sunlight were dimming as evening approached and Alexi felt safe for now.

On his knee rested a notepad and some scribblings, half in Russian, half in English - the sign of scatterbrained moments. In boots that made a pleasing crunch against the soil, he moved around, still crouched, still shaded and waddling in a rather duck-like fashion as he observed the soil and temperature settings around these stubborn plants.

The planet must be full of places like these. Maybe some wilder places. Some dangerous. Other packs. New fauna. And in thinking of all these wonders, he could only speculate about which of these will end his life. When wrapped in textbooks and journals, Alexi had distracted himself of the thoughts of danger and demise. But with the beginning of autumn, Alexi knew his winter trip was coming up.

He leaned close to a pink flower which affectionately stroked his cheek as he came close. He closed his eyes a moment and smiled. Such a feeling was really euphoria when one was thinking dark thoughts. It snapped him out of his grim mood and he continued taking notes on the flowers and their features, conditions and Latin names.

People may have noticed an increased activity in him. He would observe wildlife more. Something would seem disturbing to the pack around him. They were soon to lose one.

[Dauh]

"Shit."

The paint had gone hard again. Leonard prodded the insides of the tube with the end of his tattered paintbrush, but to no avail; it had gone hard. He swore again, and angrily dumped the tube back into his bag. That would be the third time he would have to rescue that colour – and he wasn’t sure it was going to be so receptive anymore. Where was he going to get more yellow?

His already thin motivation slain, Leonard slowly and carefully packed up the easel he had already slowly and carefully unpacked. His patience was wearing through, and his only pastime was finally kicking the bucket; how were you supposed to go years and years with no fresh supplies? It was ridiculous. Damn Vancouver for not being the one free of the disease; he bet that it had art stores. Point Grey was a joke.

The aged man looked up at the sky, noting how unusual it seemed for the day to be pleasant, then grunted and tossed his bag back onto his back. Back to the hovel, it seemed. Back to nothing.

Moving slowly, for there was nothing to rush for, Leonard looked about the desolate gardens. There were rarely that many people about, at least not in one go... or, rather, at least not when Leonard was seeking company. The last three years had made him into a hermit, something he would have never predicted, a thought that those who knew him would have scoffed at – but it had happened, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if the majority of the campus didn’t even recognise his face. Typical.

But there was one here, today – a young man, fit and healthy despite the deathbed the outside world had become. The entire scene had an air of the pathetic, particularly when the boy had an intimate moment with a flower. Leonard huffed, watching the boy’s delicate analysis of the flora, marvelling at how normal it could seem, after – after everything.

“Seems like ah seeck johke, ze beauty, eh?” He was probably too far away for the boy to hear, and the French in his voice probably didn’t help, the accent which had persisted despite over three years with no contact of another from his country. He didn’t know why he had said anything, it had been impulse; perhaps he was more lonely than he had previously thought.

[Alexi]

Alexi was slightly startled by the voice. Yet his body did not move too much in response. He smiled a little. The accent was thick and slightly refreshing to hear, even if a bit odd. He understood what the man behind him was saying and Alexi decided to reply, though he did not look at whoever was speaking.

"No joke. A stand. This is a sign of strength beyond those that humans had. Self destruction has always been a possible end of the world. But to destroy oneself and have others survive longer... this is no sick joke. This is a miracle."

Alexi stood slowly, then turned to face Dauh. "Nature can flaunt its power like everything else in the world. To remain beautiful... well, maybe that shows not all is lost. There is no sick... and there will be more sanctuaries like this in the world. Maybe we should see them before we see the world as a dumpster."

Alexi sniffed the air, trying to determine if Duah was human or werewolf. Depending on that, he could interpret and expect Duah's answer to his words. Alexi smiled warmly.

"I am Alexi," he said in simple greeting. He stayed in the shade, careful to not go into direct sunlight.

[Dauh]

Having long given up in the beauty of the world - a seemingly ironic statement for the fact that there were art materials in his bag - Leonard found the truth in the boy's words hard to handle. But he couldn't deny, to himself, that there was truth there.

Leonard hated that.

How could this child be so eloquent? How could he see the world so wonderfully, holding on to hope when it was clear that life was ruined? What did anyone have anymore? What do I have anymore, the man silently, bitterly corrected himself, aware that others had not come off as bad - and that many, many more had handled their losses better.

Leonard hated that too. He had never wanted to seem weak. So he had grown to overcompensate with coldness and bitterness. He didn't want talk of nature's glory; he spent his life trying to capture small pieces of it. It always... it always slipped through his fingers. Why couldn't he have any beauty?

Then the boy introduced himself, all formal and polite as though the world was no different and manners still mattered. What a joke. "Leohnarrd," he spat, his respect for that name long lost. He then waved a hand at the flowers beside the boy, in the shade, his face all disdain. "We should 'av ahll been wiped owt. Eet waz croohl teu leave some be'aind! What'z ze point ohv ze rest'o us, eh?"

[Alexi]

"It is nice to meet you, Leonard." Alexi said with a small smile on his boyish face. He looked down to his paper again and made some notes on the flower he had been observing.

"Point?" Alexi asked. Then he looked at Leonard long and hard. "Make one." Alexi was simple with his answer. "Why should someone else tell you or make you a purpose? You have your life and that is a gift beyond what you have lost. A home, a family, happiness, all gone. But you are alive. There are those alive around you. You have lessons learned in your mind and memories are not lost. Make a fire with the materials around you and warm yourself or freeze in your own self-pity." Alexi did not say it harshly, though. He said it matter-of-factly. He did not criticize Leonard for his anger at the world. "That's all any of us can do. We can rebuild. We can. But we have to start."

"But if you see your retention of life as cruel, there are many ways to escape it. Though as a community, we don't have a person to spare. Our ancestors lived through bitter ice ages and cosmic assaults. They mourned their losses and looked at the heavens asking why. But we lived so long after that. This calamity was man made. Why is it we find it so hard to deal with that?"

Alexi looked at Leonard and looked around. He smelled paint. "What brings you to these gardens, Leonard?"

[Dauh]

A small snarl threatened to make noise in the back of Leonard's throat, but he contained himself in front of this very calm, collected boy. He wouldn't be seen to be weaker. He couldn't.

Leonard was sceptical about the benefits of being alive when everything he had known had perished around him. The only thing which held him back was a fear of death, but often that fear had almost been overtaken by his apathy to this world. And as for the community needing him, well, that was laughable as well. He doubted the majority even recognised his face, let alone knew his name. The reason they found it hard? The world had made people soft. People like Leonard, who had thought themselves tough. And when the tough are proven to be weak, it hits them worst of all.

"Uh," he said, stalling for time because of the unexpected question. The truth? The truth was lame. But he was clearly carrying a bag full of something, and he didn't seem the type to take a leisurely stroll. "Arrt," he said simply. The truth was lame. "Or, morre laike, ze searrch for. Zis place does noht eenspire.

"What abowt you, Ahlehxi?" he responded, drawing out the boy's name in an almost mocking fashion.

[Alexi]

Alexi recognized the cynicism and in that moment, he pitied Leonard. But who was he to judge? His mother passed before the snap and he had no one else in the world beyond the few acquaintances in the pack. The couple of people he would consider friends had better ones or other places to be. Alexi lost very little and he could handle that. No doubt Leonard had lost more. But Alexi, as a generally neutral person, tended to judge all the same and was far harsher in his judgement of anger and loss.

When a weakling survives, it reminds him there are always those weaker. And it gives him strength. Leonard and Alexi were on opposite ends of the spectrum. But Alexi smiled a little as Leonard mentioned art. "Must be hard to see beauty if you do not value life. I'm here on a more scientific study. Almost all life was altered by the snap. But this place seems nearly untouched. I'm here to observe that. It may not be inspirational here for you. But to me, this is an epic in the making." Alexi grinned.

He then turned his head and shifted away from the sunlight. It was getting hotter and Alexi felt beads of sweat on his neck.