#workwiththis

She had a headache coming on. It was probably her own fault for just wandering around the vicinity of the condos. Eventually, she’d forgotten about much else other than exploring. The time was decent, but the emptiness was borderline haunting, and with all of the other confused people, it just made her feel worse. 

“Hey uh,” voice soft, she glances over to somebody who looks just as confused as she does. “Do you know if the taxis do more than just drop us off?” 

“they love lars” haha gay

ᴠɪɴᴇs - not accepting.

Send me 🤳 for a vine that reminds me of my muse.

Dropped!

The place was a ruin for the most part, but that didn’t stop his rambunctious Digimon from needing to get outside. As the small blob roamed around what probably would have been a park, Takeru watched and smiled, keeping an eye out for anything else that may be lurking around.

Or people walking through. Getting up quickly, he scooped up Poyomon, who made noises of protest, before the little guy could get in the way.

Send me “I need a new outfit” and my muse will pick out one for yours.status ::: accepting!!!

Well, another day, another shitty timeline and place.

Digging through the rubble, he tried to find something that could be of use in this decrepit place. He doubted it, but hey. You never know. Besides, he’d been in worse situations. This was like, more of a middle ground. Not necessarily bad, but not great either. Still had zero depth perception which was great. Doubted he was going to be getting those limbs back no matter where he went.

Tossing away some of the rubble, he made sure to throw it on the side he could see on---not wanting to chuck something at someone’s head on accident. Especially since most of it seemed to be rock. So far, it was all useless.

“Oh come on,” he called out, standing up straight and dropping another piece of brick. “Isn’t there anything useful in here?”

After staring at him for so long it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the stranger would finally acknowledge her relentless gaze, his discomfort quite clear as she only blinks slowly in response. In all honesty his appearance is what threw her off though not from how unique he looked but, rather, by how much he resembled a friend of hers from back home. 

The overpowering nostalgia that had instantly washed over her upon first glance in his direction has now diminished into a mood more forlorn. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She says simply, voice uncharacteristically soft.