YOU
NAME: Kira
AGE: 23
E-MAIL: penofdl@gmail.com
AIM: peacekeeperdl
OOC JOURNAL:![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
kasterborous
PREVIOUS RP EXPERIENCE:
CHARACTER
NAME: Owen Harper
FANDOM: Torchwood
AGE: 27
ALIGNMENT (GOOD, EVIL, NEUTRAL): Neutral
BRIEF BACKGROUND SUMMARY: Owen Harper was born in London to a very small family. The eldest son of two lawyers, Owen had everything he could ever want for when he was younger, but he was smart enough to understand that these material goods were a trade off for his parents never being around. Not that he really minded being on his own with his younger sister. He adored Abby, and she was the only one who actually attempted to talk to him like he was a person rather than just a workhorse. His father was absent most of the time, and his mother wasn't a good person in any sense of the word. Whenever his mother was around, her bitter attentions were turned on Owen, insisting that he do things the way that she saw fit. For a child as intellectual and soft spoken as he was, Owen had no reason not to listen to his mother's insistence that he wasn't good enough, that he didn't work hard enough, that all he was to her was a burden.
It wasn't until his younger sister, Abby, was diagnosised with leukemia that Owen's world view shifted. As he watched the one person that actually understood him fight for her life, Owen became lost in the sea of doctors, nurses, and other various medical personelle that were attempting to save her. He couldn't imagine what it had to have felt like to have the life of someone else in the palm of your hand. It had to have been a great feeling because as things started to improve, the doctors' attitudes were more jovial, and they were much more willing to give the nine year old allowances when it came to being near his sister. After a rather successful operation, they even let him sit on the bed with him a few days after.
Of course, all good things eventually come to an end, and Abby took a turn for the worst after her bone marrow transplant was rejected by her body. She died three weeks before her eighth birthday and a month and a half before his tenth. Owen had always known that Abby had been the favorite. His mother had never been one for subtly, and she had often praised Abby outright in front of him before lashing into him about his school progress, his attitude, his lack of ambition, or something else that really wasn't entirely true. Of course, up until that point he had had Abby around to smooth the worst of the injury. Now... Now, he was on his own and apparently denied any sort of grief.
His tenth birthday was hell. After having spent all of Abby's birthday and the week after screaming, yelling, and only occasionally crying when she wasn't able to stand it anymore, Owen's birthday provoked the same type of reaction except this time, she had something to take her anger out on. Up until that day, Owen had difficulties with his mother, but her words had never truly wounded him before. But there was only so much that Owen could take. When she started saying that while she might love him, she didn't have to like him, Owen's attitude took its first step towards souring completely. The typically understated child talked back to his mother for the first time in his life, and it was the start of pattern that would mark the rest of his life.
In order to cope with the tradegy that weighed heavily on hims, Owen shut himself off from the people around him and instead poured himself into his work. He was awkward, sheepish, and a little pathetic, and he didn't really care how other people viewed him. Having been at least a grade ahead of where he was supposed to be since starting school, it was easy for Owen to ignore the other children that he was placed with since he rarely had anything in common with them. Owen didn't have anyone that he truly counted as a friend until he was in his pre-med courses.
Having finished high school at 15, been kicked out of home at 16, and received his bachelor's degree in organic chemistry through a, luckily, very generous academic scholarship at 19, Owen earned his first real friends when he started his pre-med courses. He was an oddity among them, considering most of the students were already in their mid-twenties, and Owen hadn't even hit his early ones yet, but he had broken out of his shell by the time he started his upper level medical courses at King's College in London. He counted himself lucky when he met Megan Tegg, another medical student that he clicked with almost immediately. But after a rather rocky end to his first relationship, Owen felt that a fresh start was necessary. London held far too many memories for him, and he needed to get away from it. He decided that he'd move to the one place he knew that nobody would even bother looking for him.
Wales.
He enrolled in Cardiff University's Medical Genetics after his first year at King's College was up and moved there the following year. It wasn't much long after that that he met Katie. There really wasn't much that could be said negative about Katie. They just...worked. It was much easier than it had ever been with Megan, and while she wasn't a fan of many of his vices, she didn't bitch about them all the time nor would she deny them to him as long as he didn't deny her hers. The relationship went swimming all through the rest of their courses and into residency despite the rather clear age difference between the pair of them. Owen felt more at easy around Katie than he had been around anyway in...well, in a long time, and while he was as nervous as any man when he did it, there was nothing in his mind at all second guessing himself when he asked her to marry him in 2004.
Sadly, that happiness would be short lived. It wasn't long into planning the wedding that Katie began to forget things. It was small at first, but she had always had a crystal clear memory before, perfect down to the last detail, and the sudden, unusual slips set Owen's instincts on alert that there was something more going on than just the being tired or confused or turned around that Katie kept insisting that it was. Of course, he'd never expected the diagonsis to come back as Early Onset Alzhiemer's. Katie wasn't even in her thirties yet. It had to be something else. It had to be. Despite the fact that he was no neurologist, Owen dove into the material, desperate to find some sort of answer. He consulted with his colleagues, spoke to the most qualified doctors, went through every bit of information that he could find, but still, another solution eluded him. There was a hope, however, when one of Katie's MRIs came back with some clearer evidence. A brain tumor was to blame, and the doctor was sure that he could remove it. After turning to ask Katie what she thought about the idea and met with a blank confused stare and an utterance of "I can't remember your name," Owen knew that they had no other choice. He wouldn't lose her. He wouldn't lose the person who had made him feel like himself again, again.
Unfortunately, there are sometimes when no matter how hard you hope something is going to work out for the best, it doesn't. It turned out that what was in Katie's brain wasn't a tumor but an alien larvae. Not that anyone believed him after he'd woken up, but he was certain that what he remembered was true and not a hallucation constructed by his mind in order to cope with the loss like all of the psychologists said it was. It wasn't until after he was finally released from the hospital and visiting Katie's grave that his suspicisons were confirmed when he spotted the mysterious man across the graveyard. Anger, frustration, and grief that had been balled up in the pit of his stomach errupted in violence as he charged the man and punched him several times before the anger dissolved into sadness. The explanation that came after he had put himself together was a surprise, and he had certainly not been expecting a job offer to come with it. Having been suspended from his job because of his questionable mental state, Owen had absolutely not reason to refuse the offer and no desire to either.
Initially naive despite his bitter temper and oddly jaded attitude toward life that was a result of the many sore disappointments and traumas in his early life, Owen was even more shocked and warped over the years by the things that he saw during his time in Torchwood. Developing a scoffing and sardonic sense of humor in order to cope with the shock of some of the situations that he found himself in the middle of, the professional distance that he had been taught as a doctor to put between himself and his patients extended farther in order to encompass people in general. It was easier that way. If you ended up getting too close to someone, you gave them the tools that they could use to hurt you, after all.
That was why it was that Owen kept most of his relationships causal, the fear of allowing someone else that sort of power over him. If there was anyone in Torchwood that could be called the office slut, it wouldn't be Jack Harkness, it would be Owen Harper. Owen has made an effort (and succeeded) in sleeping with every woman who has come into the office (except for Tosh because sleeping with your best friend is just awkward). Sex is just sex as far as he's concerned, and the chase is the best part of the game. Of course, that was before he met Diane after her plane fell through the Rift. For the first time in a long time, Owen actually let himself get truly close to someone and actually admit it. Though, the fact that she turned around and did exactly to him like he expected someone would if he allowed that, it left him broken and empty.
After failing to allow himself to be mauled to death by a Weevil and opening the Rift both to save Jack and Tosh and then once more in an action that ended in the death of hundreds of people and nearly the end of the world, Owen had more than a few doubts about his place in Torchwood. And then Jack had to go and disappear on them, leaving the lot of them to fend for themselves.
In the time that Jack was gone, Owen's attitude initially soured from the perceived betrayal, growing more snappish and defensive. At least, until Tosh & Gwen both gave him a sound thrashing about his attitude, telling him off about how callous he was being toward everyone and how his self-loathing was getting in the way of a lot. They had to work with him, and they were getting absolutely sick of his bullshit. Sore over the reprimand, Owen drew in on himself as the team was enlisted to go to the Himalayas for Prime Minister Saxon, contemplating what Tosh & Gwen had said and wondering if it was really time for him to grow up and stop being afraid.
His attitude softened a bit in the time that passed after Saxon's wild goose chase and mysterious disappearance. While he still had authority issues, they weren't quite as bad with Gwen in charge. Of course, it probably helped that he wasn't about to kick, punch, or shoot Gwen and could very easily resist the urge when he got it unlike when he had had to deal with Jack. When Jack did reappear out of the blue, Owen wasn't exactly thrilled, but he wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. There was no point in causing unnecessary issues when they had a job that they had to do.
That was the tact that Owen took in most of the jobs that they did after that, to do his best to swallow down most of the urges that he had to grumble and growl and be overly sarcastic in ways that would make people uncomfortable or upset. It was a difficult process, but it seemed to get him through things without as many squabbles.
And then he died. The sensation of being shot was one that was familiar enough to Owen but slowly drowning in his own blood was a completely new experience. Through the lung, through the heart, he wasn't completely positive which organ it had hit, whether it had hit them both. But whether had happened, he could probably hear with buzz of his colleague around him with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, gasping for oxygen that wouldn't come, and darkness seeping into his vision.
It seemed like an eternity until he was dragged from the darkness and ended up returning, conscious, on the morgue table in the medical area of the Hub. Grief, anger, panic all flooded him as he tried to take in the last few seconds that he would have left. He was so young. It wasn't fair that he was dead. It just wasn't fair. As Ianto signaled that the life signs had failed, Owen had thought at first that he was dreaming, but no, no, he could still hear them. And Jack was still holding his hand. That was a situation that needed to be rectified immediately.
It became clear almost immediately that he wasn't in the same sort of situation that Suzie had been with Gwen. He wasn't alive. He was still dead. He was just aware, unnaturally aware. Certain systems were shutdown, but others were working even when one shouldn't have worked without the other. He wasn't breathing, but he was still talking somehow. He had muscle control, but his heart wasn't pumping, and he couldn't feel anything.
Medically speaking, it was sending his head in circles, but medically speaking had rarely had any bearing on things when it came to Torchwood. No, there was always something more to it than that. Of course, being a catalyst for Death's entrance into the world of the living was probably about the last thing he would have hoped that that 'something more' to be.
Luckily, his new status as living dead put him in the perfect position to send Death right back where he came from. In fact, his new status put him into a unique position. Most of the things that go bump in the night that they had to deal with anymore didn't want a thing to do with him. Apparently a walking corpse without a shred of breath to speak of isn't that appealing to the big baddies.
Of course, man made things aren't that picky, and radiation is about as nondiscriminatory as they come. Having every molecular in your body broken down into its composite atoms is an interesting experience especially if you're conscious through the entire thing. Owen is merely thankful that he wasn't able to feel any of it.
PB: Burn Gorman
JOURNAL USERNAME:whowillsaveme
EXAMPLE OF FIRST-PERSON ENTRY: Toto, I don't think we're in Cardiff anymore.
Not that it matters because this is brilliant! The rains is freezing, the wind isn't helping one ruddy bit, and I'd really like to know where the goddamn sun has buggered off to at 3 in the afternoon, but I don't think I've ever been so happy to be miserable in my whole life.
Yes. Life. Because, ladies and gentleman, Dr. Owen Harper is alive!
Living-breathing-eating-drinking-fucking alive!
Tosh? Ianto? Gwen? Jack? Hell, I'd be happy to see Rhys right now!
God. I'm dying (without any irony!) for a curry. Anyone know where there's an Indian takeout around here? Wherever here is.
EXAMPLE OF THIRD-PERSON ENTRY: Owen hadn't felt his body being ripped away, but as his consciousness had slipped farther and farther toward a state of hazy blackness, he'd known that this was it. There'd be on coming back from this one, not when he didn't have anywhere to come back to. As his last threads of awareness had started to slid from his grasp, he had felt a jolt, something that he'd neither been expecting nor understood, and then was unceremoniously dumped onto the sidewalk of some random seemingly forgotten street.
And it was raining.
"Fucking nature! DAMMIT! That's COLD!" Owen cursed at the sky as a shiver ran through him. It took a few seconds for his brain to kick into gear, but as the water started to soak into his clothing and leave him a shivering, trembling mess, the only thing Owen could do was grin.
"It's cold. It's cold!" Owen exclaimed in delight, the sensations of temperature and moisture so familiar and so welcome despite how foreign things like them had become in the last few weeks.
As Owen pushed himself to his feet, he silently thanked god that it was raining. Nobody would be able to see his tears.
NAME: Kira
AGE: 23
E-MAIL: penofdl@gmail.com
AIM: peacekeeperdl
OOC JOURNAL:
kasterborousPREVIOUS RP EXPERIENCE:
CHARACTER
NAME: Owen Harper
FANDOM: Torchwood
AGE: 27
ALIGNMENT (GOOD, EVIL, NEUTRAL): Neutral
BRIEF BACKGROUND SUMMARY: Owen Harper was born in London to a very small family. The eldest son of two lawyers, Owen had everything he could ever want for when he was younger, but he was smart enough to understand that these material goods were a trade off for his parents never being around. Not that he really minded being on his own with his younger sister. He adored Abby, and she was the only one who actually attempted to talk to him like he was a person rather than just a workhorse. His father was absent most of the time, and his mother wasn't a good person in any sense of the word. Whenever his mother was around, her bitter attentions were turned on Owen, insisting that he do things the way that she saw fit. For a child as intellectual and soft spoken as he was, Owen had no reason not to listen to his mother's insistence that he wasn't good enough, that he didn't work hard enough, that all he was to her was a burden.
It wasn't until his younger sister, Abby, was diagnosised with leukemia that Owen's world view shifted. As he watched the one person that actually understood him fight for her life, Owen became lost in the sea of doctors, nurses, and other various medical personelle that were attempting to save her. He couldn't imagine what it had to have felt like to have the life of someone else in the palm of your hand. It had to have been a great feeling because as things started to improve, the doctors' attitudes were more jovial, and they were much more willing to give the nine year old allowances when it came to being near his sister. After a rather successful operation, they even let him sit on the bed with him a few days after.
Of course, all good things eventually come to an end, and Abby took a turn for the worst after her bone marrow transplant was rejected by her body. She died three weeks before her eighth birthday and a month and a half before his tenth. Owen had always known that Abby had been the favorite. His mother had never been one for subtly, and she had often praised Abby outright in front of him before lashing into him about his school progress, his attitude, his lack of ambition, or something else that really wasn't entirely true. Of course, up until that point he had had Abby around to smooth the worst of the injury. Now... Now, he was on his own and apparently denied any sort of grief.
His tenth birthday was hell. After having spent all of Abby's birthday and the week after screaming, yelling, and only occasionally crying when she wasn't able to stand it anymore, Owen's birthday provoked the same type of reaction except this time, she had something to take her anger out on. Up until that day, Owen had difficulties with his mother, but her words had never truly wounded him before. But there was only so much that Owen could take. When she started saying that while she might love him, she didn't have to like him, Owen's attitude took its first step towards souring completely. The typically understated child talked back to his mother for the first time in his life, and it was the start of pattern that would mark the rest of his life.
In order to cope with the tradegy that weighed heavily on hims, Owen shut himself off from the people around him and instead poured himself into his work. He was awkward, sheepish, and a little pathetic, and he didn't really care how other people viewed him. Having been at least a grade ahead of where he was supposed to be since starting school, it was easy for Owen to ignore the other children that he was placed with since he rarely had anything in common with them. Owen didn't have anyone that he truly counted as a friend until he was in his pre-med courses.
Having finished high school at 15, been kicked out of home at 16, and received his bachelor's degree in organic chemistry through a, luckily, very generous academic scholarship at 19, Owen earned his first real friends when he started his pre-med courses. He was an oddity among them, considering most of the students were already in their mid-twenties, and Owen hadn't even hit his early ones yet, but he had broken out of his shell by the time he started his upper level medical courses at King's College in London. He counted himself lucky when he met Megan Tegg, another medical student that he clicked with almost immediately. But after a rather rocky end to his first relationship, Owen felt that a fresh start was necessary. London held far too many memories for him, and he needed to get away from it. He decided that he'd move to the one place he knew that nobody would even bother looking for him.
Wales.
He enrolled in Cardiff University's Medical Genetics after his first year at King's College was up and moved there the following year. It wasn't much long after that that he met Katie. There really wasn't much that could be said negative about Katie. They just...worked. It was much easier than it had ever been with Megan, and while she wasn't a fan of many of his vices, she didn't bitch about them all the time nor would she deny them to him as long as he didn't deny her hers. The relationship went swimming all through the rest of their courses and into residency despite the rather clear age difference between the pair of them. Owen felt more at easy around Katie than he had been around anyway in...well, in a long time, and while he was as nervous as any man when he did it, there was nothing in his mind at all second guessing himself when he asked her to marry him in 2004.
Sadly, that happiness would be short lived. It wasn't long into planning the wedding that Katie began to forget things. It was small at first, but she had always had a crystal clear memory before, perfect down to the last detail, and the sudden, unusual slips set Owen's instincts on alert that there was something more going on than just the being tired or confused or turned around that Katie kept insisting that it was. Of course, he'd never expected the diagonsis to come back as Early Onset Alzhiemer's. Katie wasn't even in her thirties yet. It had to be something else. It had to be. Despite the fact that he was no neurologist, Owen dove into the material, desperate to find some sort of answer. He consulted with his colleagues, spoke to the most qualified doctors, went through every bit of information that he could find, but still, another solution eluded him. There was a hope, however, when one of Katie's MRIs came back with some clearer evidence. A brain tumor was to blame, and the doctor was sure that he could remove it. After turning to ask Katie what she thought about the idea and met with a blank confused stare and an utterance of "I can't remember your name," Owen knew that they had no other choice. He wouldn't lose her. He wouldn't lose the person who had made him feel like himself again, again.
Unfortunately, there are sometimes when no matter how hard you hope something is going to work out for the best, it doesn't. It turned out that what was in Katie's brain wasn't a tumor but an alien larvae. Not that anyone believed him after he'd woken up, but he was certain that what he remembered was true and not a hallucation constructed by his mind in order to cope with the loss like all of the psychologists said it was. It wasn't until after he was finally released from the hospital and visiting Katie's grave that his suspicisons were confirmed when he spotted the mysterious man across the graveyard. Anger, frustration, and grief that had been balled up in the pit of his stomach errupted in violence as he charged the man and punched him several times before the anger dissolved into sadness. The explanation that came after he had put himself together was a surprise, and he had certainly not been expecting a job offer to come with it. Having been suspended from his job because of his questionable mental state, Owen had absolutely not reason to refuse the offer and no desire to either.
Initially naive despite his bitter temper and oddly jaded attitude toward life that was a result of the many sore disappointments and traumas in his early life, Owen was even more shocked and warped over the years by the things that he saw during his time in Torchwood. Developing a scoffing and sardonic sense of humor in order to cope with the shock of some of the situations that he found himself in the middle of, the professional distance that he had been taught as a doctor to put between himself and his patients extended farther in order to encompass people in general. It was easier that way. If you ended up getting too close to someone, you gave them the tools that they could use to hurt you, after all.
That was why it was that Owen kept most of his relationships causal, the fear of allowing someone else that sort of power over him. If there was anyone in Torchwood that could be called the office slut, it wouldn't be Jack Harkness, it would be Owen Harper. Owen has made an effort (and succeeded) in sleeping with every woman who has come into the office (except for Tosh because sleeping with your best friend is just awkward). Sex is just sex as far as he's concerned, and the chase is the best part of the game. Of course, that was before he met Diane after her plane fell through the Rift. For the first time in a long time, Owen actually let himself get truly close to someone and actually admit it. Though, the fact that she turned around and did exactly to him like he expected someone would if he allowed that, it left him broken and empty.
After failing to allow himself to be mauled to death by a Weevil and opening the Rift both to save Jack and Tosh and then once more in an action that ended in the death of hundreds of people and nearly the end of the world, Owen had more than a few doubts about his place in Torchwood. And then Jack had to go and disappear on them, leaving the lot of them to fend for themselves.
In the time that Jack was gone, Owen's attitude initially soured from the perceived betrayal, growing more snappish and defensive. At least, until Tosh & Gwen both gave him a sound thrashing about his attitude, telling him off about how callous he was being toward everyone and how his self-loathing was getting in the way of a lot. They had to work with him, and they were getting absolutely sick of his bullshit. Sore over the reprimand, Owen drew in on himself as the team was enlisted to go to the Himalayas for Prime Minister Saxon, contemplating what Tosh & Gwen had said and wondering if it was really time for him to grow up and stop being afraid.
His attitude softened a bit in the time that passed after Saxon's wild goose chase and mysterious disappearance. While he still had authority issues, they weren't quite as bad with Gwen in charge. Of course, it probably helped that he wasn't about to kick, punch, or shoot Gwen and could very easily resist the urge when he got it unlike when he had had to deal with Jack. When Jack did reappear out of the blue, Owen wasn't exactly thrilled, but he wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. There was no point in causing unnecessary issues when they had a job that they had to do.
That was the tact that Owen took in most of the jobs that they did after that, to do his best to swallow down most of the urges that he had to grumble and growl and be overly sarcastic in ways that would make people uncomfortable or upset. It was a difficult process, but it seemed to get him through things without as many squabbles.
And then he died. The sensation of being shot was one that was familiar enough to Owen but slowly drowning in his own blood was a completely new experience. Through the lung, through the heart, he wasn't completely positive which organ it had hit, whether it had hit them both. But whether had happened, he could probably hear with buzz of his colleague around him with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, gasping for oxygen that wouldn't come, and darkness seeping into his vision.
It seemed like an eternity until he was dragged from the darkness and ended up returning, conscious, on the morgue table in the medical area of the Hub. Grief, anger, panic all flooded him as he tried to take in the last few seconds that he would have left. He was so young. It wasn't fair that he was dead. It just wasn't fair. As Ianto signaled that the life signs had failed, Owen had thought at first that he was dreaming, but no, no, he could still hear them. And Jack was still holding his hand. That was a situation that needed to be rectified immediately.
It became clear almost immediately that he wasn't in the same sort of situation that Suzie had been with Gwen. He wasn't alive. He was still dead. He was just aware, unnaturally aware. Certain systems were shutdown, but others were working even when one shouldn't have worked without the other. He wasn't breathing, but he was still talking somehow. He had muscle control, but his heart wasn't pumping, and he couldn't feel anything.
Medically speaking, it was sending his head in circles, but medically speaking had rarely had any bearing on things when it came to Torchwood. No, there was always something more to it than that. Of course, being a catalyst for Death's entrance into the world of the living was probably about the last thing he would have hoped that that 'something more' to be.
Luckily, his new status as living dead put him in the perfect position to send Death right back where he came from. In fact, his new status put him into a unique position. Most of the things that go bump in the night that they had to deal with anymore didn't want a thing to do with him. Apparently a walking corpse without a shred of breath to speak of isn't that appealing to the big baddies.
Of course, man made things aren't that picky, and radiation is about as nondiscriminatory as they come. Having every molecular in your body broken down into its composite atoms is an interesting experience especially if you're conscious through the entire thing. Owen is merely thankful that he wasn't able to feel any of it.
PB: Burn Gorman
JOURNAL USERNAME:
whowillsavemeEXAMPLE OF FIRST-PERSON ENTRY: Toto, I don't think we're in Cardiff anymore.
Not that it matters because this is brilliant! The rains is freezing, the wind isn't helping one ruddy bit, and I'd really like to know where the goddamn sun has buggered off to at 3 in the afternoon, but I don't think I've ever been so happy to be miserable in my whole life.
Yes. Life. Because, ladies and gentleman, Dr. Owen Harper is alive!
Living-breathing-eating-drinking-fucking alive!
Tosh? Ianto? Gwen? Jack? Hell, I'd be happy to see Rhys right now!
God. I'm dying (without any irony!) for a curry. Anyone know where there's an Indian takeout around here? Wherever here is.
EXAMPLE OF THIRD-PERSON ENTRY: Owen hadn't felt his body being ripped away, but as his consciousness had slipped farther and farther toward a state of hazy blackness, he'd known that this was it. There'd be on coming back from this one, not when he didn't have anywhere to come back to. As his last threads of awareness had started to slid from his grasp, he had felt a jolt, something that he'd neither been expecting nor understood, and then was unceremoniously dumped onto the sidewalk of some random seemingly forgotten street.
And it was raining.
"Fucking nature! DAMMIT! That's COLD!" Owen cursed at the sky as a shiver ran through him. It took a few seconds for his brain to kick into gear, but as the water started to soak into his clothing and leave him a shivering, trembling mess, the only thing Owen could do was grin.
"It's cold. It's cold!" Owen exclaimed in delight, the sensations of temperature and moisture so familiar and so welcome despite how foreign things like them had become in the last few weeks.
As Owen pushed himself to his feet, he silently thanked god that it was raining. Nobody would be able to see his tears.
