praying | preying

He’s still queer, he’s still here, he’s still full of existential fear.

    “A flock of the sinful escaping containment is a Purge in of itself, yes, but not the needed one.”

“Hmm? I suppose my uniform might, but I was taking care of Numels.. “heh though weirdly enough the girl’s hair and herself, in general, smelled almost like cinnamon. “Heh dealing with pokemon that are essentially tiny Volcanos can do that to a person”

     “I suppose the oft-obnoxious scent of smoke and soot would lose its edge after enough time, especially if one occupied themselves with Fire-Ground types on a regular basis. Are you capable of scenting the variances in ash consistency, then?”

      An odd thought, perhaps, but very few questions are not worth being voiced. He is a scientist through and through, even if his specialization was in biomechanics, and scientists are known for their insatiable curiosity. 

      “. . .”

     An instance passes in the blink of a hundred years. 

Nothing has changed for him, even as holes left wide by disappearance are stitched shut and the memories of those he knew briefly fade.