ENGULF
having a crisis with @avhojun
“no. way.”
and it’s not the good kind. not the sort that means hah, you’re kidding me, or oh word? it’s nothing but pure denial of something that is terrifyingly, unbelievably real. just seconds before they’d been on the other side of the globe seconds from devastation until a single snap delivered them across the globe to drop them off—where?
he registers the murmurs spreading about, ‘616, earth-616, there’s another earth—’ and he thinks to himself, ‘i don’t believe it.’ but the picture speaks for itself. the inside of the building is familiar only because the school is just as familiar with his presence as a student, one of their own, in fact, and at the same time it doesn’t feel right.
pulling out to the streets of downtown new york doesn’t make it any better. one step and his heart drops, plummets straight to the pit of his stomach with the dead-cold realization, this isn’t home.
frozen in place, it takes minutes before he can return to his senses. he looks down for his hand. status check: nothing in his fear, fight or flight instincts have flipped on the camouflage controls, out of sight, out of mind from the rest of the pack. but that’s not what’s on his mind right now, not when a certain shapeshifter seems to have disappeared as well.
panicked, he looks around, trying in vain to spot a fleck of green somewhere, anywhere? he returns to being visible at the faint sound of squeaking. “hojun?!”
he made a mistake. okay, not specific enough. somewhere along the way ko hojun is of the practice of making many many mistakes. but this, this holds a bit more of permanence. something about time and place. about the fact that the earth they tread now is completely unalike the one he’s used to.
desolate. grim. haunting.
and he, alone. disoriented by the shift in dimension. separated from all he’s known. his world. his friends. what is he supposed to do with this?
hojun wanders aimlessly, foolishly, unaware of his surroundings. vaguely, the crowd ahead is perceptible. so he’s not that far away. but beyond that? his ears ring tinny, left elbow heavy with ache. minor injuries sustained from the collapse of his dorm room.
so, he’s (not thinking. not anticipating) wholly caught off guard when nearby debris of a fallen building drops right above, only ever getting away last minute by shifting—into the smallest thing he could think of.
and of course it’d be a mouse.
it takes a couple seconds to wiggle out from the mess of debris, skittish in the way he moves, sniffling and squeaking while scurrying further away from the heap of rock and rubble.
—only to stop. aren’t his clothes being held hostage there now? what does that mean for him? that he would have to spend his first night on this foreign earth—butt naked? oh no. oh no, no, no, no.
what is he supposed to do now?
then, salvation. then his ears perk at the familiar voice, relief that rushes through his tiny body with a tiny wail in response. hojun moves to stand on his hind legs, to look as “big” as possible. hands (hands?) flailing about.
“adam! adam!!!! over here!”
