@neuroticsynth
“Ah, I-I’m sorry, sir!”
The young girl hesitantly poked the teen’s back.
“Is this yours..?” She held out a wallet.
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@neuroticsynth
“Ah, I-I’m sorry, sir!”
The young girl hesitantly poked the teen’s back.
“Is this yours..?” She held out a wallet.
@neuroticsynth liked for a starter
With the quiet cling and clang of copper upon cobblestone, a coin came rolling to his feet. It was did not belong to him and was of little value. Perhaps that was the reason why KAITO felt not inclined to keep it -- but then again, he would’ve been more easily prompted to try return a bill. He began his stoutness exercises. With a “セ――イノ!” to himself, he bent down, his hands towards his toes and his legs hardly any less straight than they had been when he’d been standing. With his bad leg offering him virtually no ways to kneel successfully, he had to resort to playing Winnie Pooh. 5cm further he was making a face that implied him squeezing one eye shut, had he’d still owned the 2 necessary for such something, and then he felt his fingers close around the coin. Gotcha. “Sorry about that.” Or perhaps the boy had enjoyed the spectacle -- he didn’t look overly interested, though. With his good hand, he held up the spare change that had gone off on an adventure. “Is this yours?”
@neuroticsynth
“HEY, you look like Len.”
Emotions clad in YELLOW {--{The BEST color, of course}--} circled around the vocaloid, curious of what exactly they were. --They weren’t her brother; she could tell that at least.
“He hasn’t been handing out his appearance, has he?
Anyway, I’m here to grant wishes through the power of yellow! Probably not yours though. You can call me RIN!”
neuroticsynth:
Hunched slightly after a nudge from behind leads to wonder in the mind. Now configuring, a very old memory presses against his back. He dares not to look over the shoulder. Words, now awkward at the curl of his tongue. All the things he ought to say had long vanished anyway. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. I can stay.”
Same to you, all right? If this is her imagination, she dare not open her eyes. Times like this a voice can sustain a much stronger role; though slightly incoherent due to position, the one she hears is powerful enough to string the breath back through her. Now what to do? Apologies must be outdated. So throw them away and reach for other pieces in nostalgia's playbox! A finger lifts to meet the body, gently tapping its back at the beat of Fire◎Flower.