#skymade

  “I mean, I don’t call it anything, because I don’t know all those words together.” It’s kinda easy to work out, though, isn’t it? It’s just whatever it was that’d happened to him.

  “No, no, it’s fiiine.” She’s waving his words off – as though they’re some sort of concern or something – and heading towards where the food stuffs are. “You don’t gotta cook.” She’ll rummage around and find non-perishables. Or she’ll eat the perishables, but before they’re made into the food. “D’you want me to grab you anything?”

You don’t know what-- D’Ablo took a deep breath. He put his hands together over his mouth, and exhaled slowly. Sometimes, there are battles that you just can’t pick. And frankly, it shouldn’t surprise him that this strange woman didn’t know what “total body paralysis” meant. She clearly wasn’t local--as in, clearly came from way past the stratosphere--so he oughtn’t expect much.

          "Where’re you going?” It wasn’t fair of him to ask, and he knew that, but he was tired of saying goodbye. His time with Willow was always being cut short -- at least that’s how it always felt.

          It’d be pointless to ask her to stay, but maybe he could try his hand at an even more stupid, more impulsive idea . . .

Hm, okay, this was an unexpected turn of events. She didn’t know what angels were? Still, she... seemed super into it anyway, so Nisha was going to take what she could get. To her credit, she didn’t miss a beat.

@empathicstars / @siriseen / @skymade 

Ryand’r wasn’t really bothering to keep track of the days. Well, that wasn’t true, he tried to write or draw something each day to be able to count it somehow, but it didn’t really change much for the young tamaranean in his cave if a day passed or if it still was going anyway. A glance to the exit of the cave showed not much light remaining - it was probably going towards the time of sleep. Not that he kept a schedule there anymore, or looked much for what daytime it was when he did want to sleep. Still, it meant it would be time to actually put something down onto a page, and so he sat down to do just that. Half leaning onto the page, his left arm was raised and holding a ball of energy to offer the needed light (something at the ceiling of the cave gave some light too, but when writing, drawing or reading he preferred to have some more light), and the other hand moved to a blue-ish stick, obviously a pen of some sort, before moving with said pen over the paper to write things down. It was a day to write things down. He had drawn pictures a good amount of times before, and he would do again if it felt like it was needed, but today he didn’t want to feel that much. Writing his thoughts down, things he remembers of either Tamaran or the Shallas here, was less hurting. And it was also a way to focus on just his thoughts, if he tried to write down whatever came to his mind. It helped to calm down, to get more aware of the reason for his enduring again. He started to feel better again, when something in the corner of his eye changed - in the shine his light threw, maybe, he assumed it’d be just a fallen something, or maybe a gust of wind blew some things away from where he placed them - and he lifted his gaze off of the paper to instead look to the side to see what exactly had caused his attention --

 “I’ll ask the fucking questions, okay?”

“I mean, not really.”

Not that she really knows Willow or actually remembers the trick to the whole two doors, two guards, one tells only lies riddle either, but... Janet’s pretty sure they’re definitely fucked if her new purple friend here tries to solve it.