kingbxsil:
Bazz had a weird addiction: LIMINAL SPACES. He barely spent any time at home, so he enjoyed exploring the small town he was trapped lived in. His favorite places so far were the rusty arcade, the old bowling alley, the west side of the park during the twilight, and the abandoned gas station at the outskirts.
Currently, he was in the last one, sitting on the dirty steps that led to the mart with broken windows and some canned food on the dark aisles. He didn’t smoke, but he was playing with a lighter, turning it on and off repeatedly as his mind sometimes thought about the possible dangers of playing with fire in a place full of gasoline. Small smiles would usually show up on his face. He wasn’t an arsonist, nor he wanted to become one, but he understood a bit the psyche of those who actually were. POWER. Everybody likes to have power and control.
BASIL INCLUDED.
After the announcement of earth’s impending doom, Seraphina decided to withdraw into her healthiest coping mechanism - art. Packing up a canvas, some brushes, and paint, Seraphina packed up her little lemon of a car and drove to the outskirts of Hawley, eagerly searching for some inspiration.
Spotting a little abandoned gas station, she pulled over and grabbed her tote packed with her art supplies. Setting up her easel, Seraphina began preparing her paints when she saw some movement in the long-empty building. Taking a breath, she slowly approached the building and inched open the door. “Hello?” she called in, somewhat expecting a specter to come forward.
