full disclosure, i’m probably going to be pretty selective with muses from here on out !! but I’m still 100% open to new interactions, etc. I just might prefer things to have a bit more of a direction than usual. In the last year or so, that’s what has been easier for me instead of just winging things. although, i’ve always loved winging things. 

i’m rambling, but anyway. I also might be moving kara to a sideblog here??? because I miss her so much, and I prefer her having her own blog because of the amount of information and content I have for her, but I do...not feel very safe being on her own blog??? 

   “I forgot my key.” the words escape the pout on her face, having surpassed the stage of anger she’d had at herself for leaving it behind. what’s worse? her phone had died, and by now would certainly be waterlogged had it not been for the specialty case she keeps it in. she’d had no umbrella, nor rain jacket to shield her from the barrage of drops due to the torrential downpour that’d caught her up. as a girl from california who’s highest priorities are to remain indoors, remembering such protection from the weather is often the last on her mind.

  TIREDNESS LOCKS ONTO HIS SHOULDERS; who would’ve thought his life would lead to endless nights of trying to solve cases, files upon files that do nothing but drill more DISTURBANCE into his head. He’s GLAD when justice is served —— that’s the REASON why he chose that job, on the first place —— but when days PASS without a CLUE, he senses DESPERATION he never believed he’d own. If only he could RETRIEVE his full power, things would be entirely different…but then again, owning everything he once had whilst being on Earth WOULDN’T be a punishment, would it?   Hands are buried in the pockets of his jeans; PAIN circulating through his back due to exhaustion and the CONSTANT concealment of his wings. He walks in hopes to find the nearest OPEN establishment that can offer him a bit of solace…and a CARAMEL MACCHIATO. Whilst on his sluggish stroll, he’s able to see a WOMAN whom seems to be handing out pamphlets…or something along those lines. Just by seeing his AURA, he can tell she’s DESPERATE…WORRIED.   Curiosity and his inherent need to HELP drag him to her. He crosses the street, approaching her, and as soon as he’s near, her face gets replaced by a PHOTOGRAPH of a man. Gold and blue irises fix themselves on the picture. Why does he seem…FAMILIAR? God, it must be because he sees pictures of faces almost every single day. Maybe he’s mistaking him with someone else…NO, WAIT——–WAIT. Lark looks up to see her, and without missing a beat, he asks:

“—————why are you looking for a ghost hunter?”

there it is, the sign she’s been waiting for: this is not all for nought. It’s good, isn’t it? that this man recognizes her friend in the photo enough to know his profession? if so, then why is her stomach stuck in her throat? why has her body suddenly flashed, adrenaline shocking her system with the surprise of such a simple question? he feels so close, yet still so far from her. 

               Crazy. She doesn’t need to say it outright for Gareth to know she likely thinks he’s crazy or something similar. Hell, the republican considered himself insane when he started researching bugs online. This is why he doesn’t normally go around sharing his experiences about what happened back in DC. ❝I know. What I’m saying is – insane. It sounds insane.❞ He probably wouldn’t believe it if he was in her shoes. ❝That’s why I don’t go around telling everyone, but you’re one of the few people who have been to space. Even if the theory sounds far-fetched, nothing else has been able to explain why people’s heads have been exploding.❞ Apart from space bugs. Why he was the one sent here to relay this information is still beyond him.