[hr][center][h1][color=f49ac2]Owen Childs[/color][/h1][/center][hr]

The train ride, the armed escort, the warehouse tour, all of it hardly registered with Owen as he knitted his brow in concentration. He had been distracted, and in his distraction he had fallen into a silent funk while his mind was busy at work. It wasn’t his frustration with Rend that had render him unresponsive, and in fact he normally would’ve been pestering the mogul until Rend finally broke and told him the truth. It had been Tahlia, or rather, it had been something that Tahlia had said: the dreaded ‘we need to talk’ line. 

Owen had been in enough failed relationships to know that nothing fun ever came after those words. It was never ‘we should talk about what we’re going to do with all of this free ice cream I just won’ or ‘I need to talk to you about this film festival that I am now taking you to’. Of course, Owen and Tahlia didn’t have an actual relationship outside of their faux monarchy claims, at least not the kind that one could dump the other over, but he still felt the hair on his skin stand up as the words had exited her mouth and she admitted to have been suffering from issues.

He should’ve been ecstatic—not that she was suffering, only a monster or perhaps Rend would be happy to hear that, but that she was willing to admit to him that she was suffering. It meant she trusted him, and when it came to someone as seemingly cold as Tahlia that seemed like it should’ve been a big deal. Yet, instead of filling Owen with some kind of warmth for being able to make a professional breakthrough it had only added to his ever increasing stress. Of course, he had seen her behaving differently over the past few weeks, but he had just pretended that he was imagining things. Now she had shattered that illusion, and the things he had begun to imagine while they were being dragged here and there took dark, disturbing shapes. Although even the most overactive imagination couldn’t keep him away from reality once he saw Echo and Benji, very much alive, casually enjoying some unrecognizable classical ditty.

[color=f49ac2]“You son of a—”[/color] started Owen, clapping his hands together over his mouth as Benji tried to play it cool as if the last time he had been seen alive he hadn’t proven to all of them that he was a terrible ninja. Doc made some real bad calls, but Owen was clearly glad he was alive. The joy in his eyes faded as they made contact with Echo, and he fixed her with a withering glare as the others began to talk. It wasn’t that he had hoped that she had been harmed or worse, she was one of the Artemis Six after all, but if the Principality had decided to hold her a little longer he wouldn’t have protested.

[i]That’s a little petty, man,[/i] he thought, chiding himself as Yaz took the words right out of his mouth, right down to the part about being scared. 

Benji began explaining the situation they were in, and Owen responded by continuously shaking his head back and forth disbelief. So they were guilty for a crime someone else committed? He didn’t need a law degree to know that should never hold up in court, although he also knew that once aliens showed up everything he knew no longer really applied. As if to affirm this idea, Benji began speaking in the alien tongue. Deep down Owen still hoped that one day he’d look up and see a red recording light blinking back at him, then the VR world around him would fade away, a whole bunch of production people would walk out clapping, and Andrew would give him a punch in the shoulder and tell him he was victim of some godawful prank show.

He considered everything for a moment and then, without clarifying if he was talking about his own idea or Benji’s words, threw his hands up and stormed out of the room, declaring loudly to the walls, [color=f49ac2]“That’s [i]just[/i] stupid!”[/color]