#lackingheart

    ☁ ------ pair of faded hues focused on words inked onto tattered pages that belonged to reams of unsorted papers. pensiveness engraved into his orbs, glowing with spirit as they scanned through them, faster than any normal human could. the male’s arms were steadied ‘pon dark oak wood the tables within the right wing of the archive ( more precisely the LIBRARY ) were made. peaceful had been the atmosphere for the longest time; the silence he quite liked engulfed the with dust specked shelfs && antiquities of the archive. only some souls strayed into this establishment, therefore most of the workers were off duty, making him the only employee present at the moment. however, his ears did not fail to perceive footsteps approaching his table. swiftly, his head arose && a welcoming smile spread across his rosy lips. words were soft but determined as the man spoke. 

  i should be over all the butterflies. 

                   The bag handle in his grip becomes so tight in his hands it turns his knuckles white, back and forth back and forth across the street he watches the strangely shaped creature prowl, awaiting clearly for his departure across to the other side. Apparently the crosswalk acted as some sort barrier the creature considered itself unable to pass, that’s all he could guess anyway with how it stayed on the other side of the street and even the green walking symbol that caused others to cross wasn’t enough invitation to make it move. Normally, this would be a blessing when a crosswalk kept spirits at bay but RIGHT NOW it was his only way to cross and get home, he could SEE his apartment complex just beyond its figure, and even if he crossed to the other side of the street that might be welcome enough for it to follow until it found a proper way to get across to him, “Why today. . .” He can only mutter, he has no energy to shout and release his frustrations like he normally might. The day had been long, it weighed on his shoulders and the idea of venturing home to cook only for himself, read a funny comic, and then pass out on his mat had been an all too comforting thought. Couldn’t he just have THAT without interception?

                  The unpredictability of it all was just too much right now. . . Maybe he would just head back to the shop, he was sure Yuuko would CHARGE but he could have somewhere to sleep for the evening at the very least. Beginning to turn back the way he came he notices, completely unexpectedly, someone else staring across the street, unmoved like himself. The walk symbol shows green, he has the perfect chance to go, but his own eyes just seem to have the solemn look of Watanuki’s own, of being unable to GO when he should.

  “...” 

  She presses the back of her hand to her burning cheek. This was exactly what she expected and still it caught her off guard. All of the attention was almost enough for her to wish she could take it back. Almost. Slowly, she adjusted herself (but not away) and took his book to look at herself. It was Asahira’s latest work in Yoshino’s most popular on-going series with handwritten notes in the margin for him to remember. 

  She’d have to remember to pick up a copy herself for her collection. There was no reason for her to read them anymore, but now that she already had so many of them it was hard to stop. 

  “You say that, but it’s not that serious...” Peko said finally, eyes kept to the pages she continued to turn and skim. It’d only make her blush more to look at him. “You’re hasty. How are you sure this is love? Or... that this is what you want forever?” Because she wasn’t. She... liked him. Somehow, she really liked him. But it wasn’t love. Not yet, not yet, but she knew she was falling. She knew what love was, she used to be in love, but now—

  “I like how we are now.” Speaking the truth put her other thoughts to rest. Peko set the book aside and atop her own about cat breeds before leaning against him and closing her eyes. His scent was calming. She sighs.

@vi0lentroom

     What a complete nuisance! The elder boy had just barged into his lab with a chainsaw, nearly causing the small scientist to drop the beakers he had in his hands. If the chainsaw revving much too loudly, then Bennett’s voice would certainly do the trick, leaving felix with a small vein appearing on the side of his head. A scowl appearing on his face following suit. Now he couldn’t have been more angry, but the teenager proved him wrong by throwing the chainsaw into the air & FAILING to catch it. Short arms stretched out; Felix grabbed a hold of the handle, turning the machine off & setting it down beside him.

@lackingheart // verse: the real world / aftermath

With a tall bottle of panta and a large cup of boba tea clasped in each hand, Rantaro slipped to Kokichi's side before gently handing him the carbonated beverage.  He swirled the far end of the straw of his drink with his now free hand, idly watching the chewy tapioca balls float up before descending back to the bottom of the cup.  

Most likely unbeknownst to the boy beside him, Rantaro was visiting Kokichi with an intended purpose.  In all honesty, the question on his mind had been prodding at him for awhile.  However, the words he wanted to say were having a difficult time coming out.  Conceivably, it was because of the idea's potential significance in Rantaro's life: moving on and letting go.  He didn't think he was ready to move past his fabricated life.  It was possible he would never be ready.  The years passing them by didn't make any of it easier.  Nevertheless, there was nowhere else for him to go besides forward.

Perhaps the supreme leader could help him find a new path to follow.  In truth, the long-time adventurer didn't know of any other place to put his skills to good use.

He pursed his lips for a moment, all the while staring past Kokichi.