cujoh-not-kujo:
The day was not going well for Jolyne Cujoh.
She was plopped right into a place, a city she knew nothing of and struggled to comprehend what was going on around her. While the city around her was beautiful to say the least, Jolyne could feel herself shrinking down at the overwhelming unknown, despite her best efforts to try and stay positive in the situation. Her stomach felt tight not knowing what happened to Emporio, and that all of her friends lay face down in the Atlantic Ocean’s waves.
Jolyne was irate, hands in her pockets, teeth grit as she nearly stomped down the sidewalk. Her aura radiated ‘go away’ which most of the citizens were able to pick up on, giving her a wide berth as she trudged down the road. She walked in relative peace until, well, she was solicited about some jazz and chill bullshit.
“Fuck off, I don’t want any–,” Her words were cut off there, eyes immediately recognizing… well, her childhood favorite. The big goofy dog that 3-year-old Jolyne would go screaming down the stairs for, demanding her mother turn on Goof Troop. Green eyes widened as Jolyne slowly pointed to the familiar face.
“Wait what– holy shit– you’re–”
Oh boy. Now this is what they call an angry teen. Goofy held the stack of papers close to his body and set his gaze upon her verdant personage. A small smile grew upon his lip as she looked up at him, realizing who he was.
“Goofy Goof, of Spooverville. Nice to meetcha. Do you remember me from the Powerline concert? That fishing move, it was how you kids call lit...Right? But I do have a small thing to add. Young lady....I don’t appreciate the use of bad language like that you hear?”
He chided, letting the topic drop after that. He turned to post one paper onto a wooden power pole before turning his attention back towards the girl.
“So...Ahyuck. What has you more sour than a raisin?”
