#ankh 01

From a fair distance away, Waka stared and stared at the man before him. He wasn’t sure what about him was so...interesting. Perhaps it was the strange clothes he wore - he wondered what he would look like in garments like those. Perhaps it was the hairstyle - would Waka look good with his hair cut like that? He didn’t know, he could certainly try it...his hair grew fast enough that he wouldn’t regret it if he did cut it.

Sunny didn’t wander around the Cultural Sector much, and had some doubt that there’d be anything there of interest to him. One of the few citizens of the IGO he’d managed to find-- he couldn’t recall her name, though he did remember her saying she’d had magazine pages with his photo on the wall during her teen years-- insisted otherwise. Her housing was there, she’d said over drinks, and swore that she’s seen a temple that might have been to Acacia.

Indeed, it might have been. The architecture was similar enough, and it felt achingly familiar to step underneath the roof. There were no icons of Acacia in sight, but a few places where the dust look disturbed, like objects had been removed. Perhaps the best evidence for the space coming from his own world was the emptiness-- no one here to pray, no one even passing by, save him. This did, however, make it a decent place to picnic, and despite not being particularly faithful, it was hard not to see this beautiful, nostalgic spot as a gift from the god to Sunny and Sunny alone.