[ PLAZA ] - It's been a long time since the city has been so lively, and there is something new to see in every place you look. The Central Plaza is lined with every vendor you could imagine, hot food at the ready, and even live music! There is no shortage of things to things to see and smell and taste.
The central plaza is alive with activity, countless people flitting between stalls selling every product imaginable; through it all, Acheron drifts like a wraith, present yet silent. She wanders through the crowds with no true destination, stopping here and there to check out a stall, but little catches her interest.
Eventually, her path leads her to a food stall, following a scent that she can, for once, actually perceive. It soon becomes clear why, as she studies the menu - spicy food remains one of the few things she can still taste, with her senses as faded as they are.
She orders the spiciest thing on the menu, then settles in to wait - just as yet another purple-haired woman with a very familiar face approaches the stall. "Huh. How many of us are there on this world..."
#GHSnowswept2025 - Part 1
IN THE PLAZA, NAMELESS FACES COME AND GO. “dr. mei” watches them passively — envious, almost, without malice — and does not imagine that “she” could be like them. sitting with the man she loves on a public bench, “she” charts how the crowds ebb and flow — how people clump together near certain stalls, certain storefronts. sometimes, “she” points this out to him, affectionately half-listening to whatever he says in return. time passes slowly, but pleasantly, like viscous honey. then, perhaps by chance — or by fate, “she” thinks “she” sees herself —
only a glimpse. “her” attention zeroes in on her doppelgänger with methodical precision. as the doppelgänger disappears behind a stall sign advertising some kind of local street food, “dr. mei” realizes that “she” had been mistaken.
it isn't dr. mei — but it is someone who looks very similar, identical even. intrigued, “dr. mei” stands up, promising to return soon with something to eat, and makes “her” way toward the stalls. eventually, “she” spots the doppelgänger again, perhaps ordering something from a stall advertising unbeatable spice, and weaves “her” way through the crowd to line up, too ...
when the doppelgänger remarks on their resemblance, the surprise “dr. mei” feels is — less feigned than anticipated. how many of us are there on this world is quite different from what “she” had expected to hear — and within it lies a tantalizing kernel of possibility: her doppelgänger had seen another lookalike, here.
suddenly aware of their patrons' similarities, the vendor behind the stall blinks in confusion, too. they laugh, suggesting something about sisters, twins? — and “dr. mei” doesn't even bother to hear them. “is there — another?” “she” asks, “her” voice almost glittering, without restraint. then, abruptly, “she” turns to the vendor, “i'll take the same order ... make that two, please.”
the vendor blinks, stammers — but “dr. mei” has already shifted “her” attention back to the previous patron. “what are the chances ... that more than two of us are on this planet at the same time! it must be minuscule, don't you think, miss ... ?”
