#artificial-continuity

Nothing’s quite as deafening as absolute silence.

There’s a city that shouldn’t be, sprung up overnight and disrupting the land like weeds in a garden. Gray buildings jut into a bleak sky to dominate the horizon, each one a giant of brick and concrete laying claim to its surroundings. Hundreds of them each with a hundred rooms and with a hundred windows and all of them e m p t y.

He’s alone in a way he’s never been in his life and every instinct screams at him to turn and leave. Even the lowliest of animals know better than to willingly wander into known danger. Yet here he is, proving that being at the top of the food chain means nothing when men like him possess the ability to ignore all common sense. Years of caution and careful planning could be thrown away in this very moment if his own curiosity proves to be his undoing.

The mystery of this city is what drives him on. It dangles in front of him, baiting another step forward towards the unknown. Something waits for him at the very heart of this city and he’s come prepared with his wits and the pokemon that he keeps in his pocket. 

He has to hope that it’ll be enough.

When he has only his thoughts to keep him company, he becomes keenly aware of when he’s no longer alone. Even if there’s been a presence that’s hovers at the very edges of his senses the moment he stepped foot into the city, he’s managed to ignore it this entire time. It’s too ethereal a thing for him to contemplate, but this one, this one is real and solid and ALIVE and it resolves itself from the silence in the shape of a woman with red hair. The contrast of colours against the cold palette of the city makes her impossible to ignore.

donuts! | accepting

Donut hole: Do you collect anything?

beedle, while it may be obvious, collects bugs. butterflies, locusts, and, yes, beetles. he does his best to keep them alive, but when they inevitably pass in his care, he pins them in a sort of scrapbook to immortalize them.

Maple iced: What do you like to do on rainy days?

years of buying, selling, and traveling to do both have trained the eye to a fine degree. beedle knows this woman is a fighter, knows she has more on her shoulders than the average, and maybe even more than what the enormous beetle-shaped backpack on their back can carry.

             “He-llo!”

it’s aimed clearly at her, though projected around the marketplace to bring any attention. it’s been a rather slow day, after all.

“We read the wind and the sk-.” As Kiawe turns around he catches sight of Red, a near dead silence falls. How long had she been standing there, when did she even get in here? He smiles sheepishly, at the very least she was being nice... Least he hopes it wasn’t sarcasm, hard to tell with writing.

There’s a hint of confusion in Kiawe’s expression as he accepts the singer’s gift, what appears to be a collection of vinyl disks with what he can only assume to be her songs are now in his possession.