#anna 01

“Oh, that one’s really good.” Klavier doesn’t mean to intrude, but when he saw the book she’s holding he had to comment. He loves romance novels, even the terrible ones.

“Woah, I am so sorry!”

Operation ‘replacement grappling hook’ is a failure in pretty much every respect. Her homemade one isn’t the sturdiest, or the safest, she’s no Ivy. At least she didn’t hit anyone with it, though it was a pretty close call.

“Are you OK? Hopefully I didn’t startle you too bad...”

——- All in all, she can’t say she dislikes her living quarters. The residential area is pleasant and clean-looking, and though occupied the rest of the townhouse appears mostly empty -- she knows she’s meant to have roommates taking up the rest of the space, but neither have been there to make an introduction. ( Though she would’ve been otherwise glad for her privacy, it’s a little too big and a little too empty. )

She supposes it’s as good of a time as any to introduce herself as a new neighbour.

It hadn’t been a necessity, back when she’d taken up rent on her apartment, but it’d been nice being acquainted with them -- saying hello on the way home or trading the occasional ingredient when convenient, and even if they were never friends it brought a sense of comfort to know their names. It’s why she’s paused by 231, only a few houses down from herself -- only hesitating to breathe, straighten in posture, and plaster on a trademark smile before she knocks three steady raps on the door.

A child? A child. An older child. Older than the one he had lived with for five years. Ironic. Five years that was. Pembroke stayed away from children, his reminder of his daughter made his chest ache. It made Karma’s wider chest ache. He was nice to kids when he was human passing, but with instinct to chase whatever runs on sight stronger in this form, it ran wild. He ran wild. 

But we he saw Anna, he shifted out of his ghost form to say hello. He had to, Anna was fantastic. So now here he was here, just barely into the hours of the morning, watching her paint. “-you could do a dual career in being an artist and a journalist? Right?”

He hadn’t been treating himself well. He had’t been kind to himself. Tonight it had been in the form of $20 worth of Taco Bell and then three shots of tequila alone. Gerry walked alone across campus, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He was going home now, to sleep, and then to inevitably be late for work in the morning. It would be in his best interest not to be fired. And then he saw her. Anna. He liked Anna more than most that had come into his life recently. “Anna-,” He wasn’t drunk, he was fine. Fine. “Hey.”

“Lemme guess-,” this was far from the first time they’d bumped into one at this hour. The handful of times it had happened, Gerry had come up with a ridiculous answer to where she had been prior to bumping into one another (or prearranging a meeting). He said, “-midnight book club?”. His usual guess was midnight book club, Gerry wasn’t all that creative. 

[well, there’s a familiar face and figure. he’s so relieved to see his orphanage staff safe he barely even thinks before resting a gentle satin-gloved hand on your arm.]

Anna-san...! You made it! You look so nice. [admiringly.] Did your hair take you an awful long time? It looks great.