flash! wolf! whoosh! slish-slash!

Alex blinks, stepping back from the massive hole leading to who knows where in the middle of this city that she just appeared in. “Yeah, just - uh - just got here.” She turns and gives this kid a weak smile. He looks as skittish as she feels. “Glad to know I’m not the only noob here.”

She glances back to the hole, “That’s a little spooky. Any idea where it goes?”

He grins at her in what he hopes is a friendly way. It’s good to be able to help someone the way people have helped him in this strange and new city. “It’s pretty weird, so take your time getting used to things. There’s lots of people like us here.” The word she uses -- nube? -- is kinda weird, but he brushes it off as a fluke in the translation.

He hitches his bag up his shoulder a little more, the bag with his Primal Source in it. He sticks his other hand out to shake. “I’m Callum. Nice to meet you.”

“hey, whoa–”

the gunhead stumbles as the smaller figure darts behind him, almost tripping over his own feet as he turns to follow. a hand reaches out, and his grip finds the back of callum’s shirt, lifting the boy into the air.

“dammit, be more careful! i could’ve killed you!” jyuzo swings the kid back and up before he can complain–hopefully he gets the idea and clings to his shoulders, but if not, he’ll just have to drag him along by his shirt.

“where the hell did you come from? and where are you going? this whole place is crawling with dead… things!”

“Aaah!” It’s a miracle he still clings tight to the Primal Source, since he almost drops it when he’s lifted into the air without warning. In a moment of shock, he isn’t sure whether to struggle, but when his “captor” speaks to him he decides it’s better if he doesn’t.

“I’m sorry!” is all he can get out before the very tall person swings him up and deposits him on their shoulders. With a noise of surprise he shoots out an arm to grab onto the broad shoulder before him, his knees coming up to automatically secure him at the person’s sides. He fumbles to keep a grip on his basketball until he can find a way to sort of pinch it between his chest and the person’s back. There. Safe... for now.

“I know,” he says despondently, looking around at the shambling creatures around them. “I’ve just been running away from ‘em, but then I ended up here -- and you -- I just hoped you’d be on my side.”

❝ i — yes, ❞ you say, taking care not to startle too visibly. you blink, eyes drawn away from the page. it’s only a child; no need to worry so. he looks about as out of place as you or anyone else not from this place does, and that concerns you. if you were indeed plucked from the sea of screams by some greater power and left to your own devices here, why would that same power do such a thing as to take children from their homes?

it doesn’t quite sit right with you.

regardless, you clear your throat and speak again to chase the awkward silence away, tucking stray hairs behind your ear.

❝ there are not a lot of books left where i come from, so i wanted to take advantage of this. ❞ you make a small gesture towards the stack of your selections.  ❝ are you looking for something in particular, or just looking? ❞

The stranger’s pretty friendly, so he can relax a little knowing that it doesn’t seem like he’s going to get into a fight. You kind of never know in a place like this, he’s figured out.

Not a lot of books? “That sounds kinda sad,” he says thoughtfully, before realizing how rude that sounds. “Not that it’s your fault or anything -- I meant like -- oh, geez.” He makes a face. Put his foot right in his mouth, huh? “Sad as in like... tragic, you know?” He looks back down at the book in his hand, voice going quieter. “Can’t really imagine what that must be like.”

Ohhh he’d know that look anywhere. The same look he had a few weeks ago, looking around himself and being entirely lost. Now he’s a bit more lucky -- he’s been tossed into his fair share of weird situations here in this city, weird enough that walking up to a stranger isn’t that big of a deal anymore.

He’s had it with this stupid city, he decides, watching with wide eyes as the shambling zombies lumber toward him down the street. Other people are running but he can’t even do that -- something about the entire situation just freaks him out to his core, and he clutches his basketball in his hand as if it’s gonna fix it.

It’s pretty chaotic at this banquet -- all kinds of sights and smells he’s never experienced before tied in with the familiar but just a little different -- and Callum finds himself not willing to stray far from the section of the table nearest him, the one with all the delicious-looking fruit, for fear of being trampled underfoot.

He’s got an apple in his hand he hasn’t bitten into yet, the bag he’d found for his basketball Primal Source slung cross-body and held close to him, annnd... nobody he recognizes.

Though when he glances around, he spots a set of what look like horns poking up over the edge of the table. Leaning for a better view, he blinks at the little creature, the one seemingly reaching for some food with their tiny stature working against them.

Him and this weird ball he’d been given. It’s like... elastic? Kind of? It bounces a little. He noticed when he set it on the ground. A weird bouncing ball with what’s definitely a Primal Source inside (he can hear it crackling even if he couldn’t feel it).

❈ @stcpprince

amidst the nigh-suffocation of being alone and worrying yourself over your interrupted affairs, you find your spark of curiosity. this city is enormous. an entire island — littered to its shores with golden age buildings. you wish there was a way to record your experiences here and take them with you when you go.

pearl street in golden ward is far more lavish than anything you’re used to in the last city. you stick out — you don’t want to — and desperately want to find a place where the mere idea of having eyes upon you is lessened.

there is a shop on the corner, and you can make out shelves lining the walls on the inside. when you enter, a welcoming bell rings, and you can see that the shelves are full of books. innumerable books, floor to ceiling.

your ghost would be so excited, if he were here. it’s a fond thought.

a brief few words with the proprietor grants you permission to read the merchandise, and so you settle in a corner with a selection of books that you’ve never seen in the vanguard’s library.

the shop’s lighting is dim enough to be comfortable, only dotted with lamps here and there. you allow yourself to remove your hood and the fabric guarding your eyes. all three begin scanning the pages as you open the cover of the first, happy to have a moment of quiet to take things in.

This place is... weird.

He doesn’t remember much before showing up here, passed out on the ground -- Azymondias hatching, but that’s about it. Though it’s obvious this place is way different from home. Sure he’d let the driver of the weird wagon take him to where he’s staying, apparently, but after that he’d been pretty lost.

Until it occurred to him.

Books!

There’s gotta be something about this weird... the word city doesn’t seem to cover it. Something written somewhere. He’s just gotta find it.