[identity profile] per-ardua-surgo.livejournal.com
There is a Scott outside today, who isn't wearing his biking leathers (the bike is stored away safely where it can be gotten to at a moment's notice, under a tarp), and who is, in fact, forcing himself through a silent routine that he'd neglected even before landing here.

It's a strange mix of Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Karate and simple Tai Chi stretches, guaranteed to loosen up his muscles and keep him aware of everything that goes on around him.

For now, the farm community is his new 'family'. Scott, you see, is a sentinel type (without the tall, murderous, metal connotations), and needs people to look after. It keeps him sane.
[identity profile] per-ardua-surgo.livejournal.com
It's taken almost two days to ride from where Dinah found him to the Cooper farm. While Scott is used to pushing himself beyond human levels of endurance, he hasn't been sure what the blonde can take, and its easier to get the lay of the land if they ride in shifts.

There may be a memory here and there of anotehr time spent in a post-apocalyptic world, one where he might have been known as Prelate. Eventually, however, he pulls into the driveway and sits there, studying the layout.

"Anyone home?"
[identity profile] per-ardua-surgo.livejournal.com
Flash

BANG

There's now a man on a bike in Nebraska, supposedly on a road trip from New York to Alaska.

Or what used to be the state of Nebraska.

Welcome to Shatter, Scott Summers.

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