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To: Thirteen From: Memo Loir
[txt]: hey, Thirteen. [txt]: Are you free tonight?
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{;STARTER @spacerescued}
To: Thirteen From: Memo Loir
[txt]: hey, Thirteen. [txt]: Are you free tonight?
FEEL & LOYALTY??
Feel -How does your character react to a persons touch? A random stranger’s? A loved one’s? A friend’s?I guess it actually mostly depends on the situation he’s in. If he’s at a convention or walking around in public and a fan’s rushing up to him and tapping his shoulder to get his attention, he’d likely be like yo hey there, let’s take a selfie! If it’s paparazzi or fans or something trying to be uncomfortably familiar with him, he’s likely to shove them away. It’s rare that he’d feel the need to actually punch someone, purely because of his raw strength.
Otherwise, he’s usually pretty cool about being touched. He’ll punch close friends on the shoulder (very lightly), give friendly pushes, and so on. He’s a chill dude.
He’ll often wrap an arm around the back or shoulder of his partners or otherwise stand pretty comfortably close.
Loyalty -Does your character have any loyalty to any group?I guess you could say he’s loyal to the Naja Crew. They took him in when he was on the streets, became their team captain, and is overall real close to them. He’s almost exclusively most loyal to himself though.
26 for the one word writing prompt!!
26. Rescue
Heroism and the greater good was just what Thirteen did, it seemed. It was admirable – something Rika wished she could aspire to. To help others and to truly expect nothing (not even the attention, the worship) in return.
She passively watched as the hero quietly handed the baby back their toy, even though they had thrown it, and the mother’s back turned. It would have been much easier, much more gratifying to tell the mother – look what I have done for you. And yet… Thirteen never did.
Granted, Thirteen was no Superman. They were a hero, and they were super, but their methods were pacifist in nature. She had once watched as they stopped a thief not with force but with kindness, with understanding – told the thief that if they did not return the items, they would lead someone into the same path they were on. It was almost supernatural.
So when Yoosung brought up helping Thirteen organize a decent search and rescue operation, it made Rika nervous.
It was what she had dreamed of. An organization that could truly save people, that could truly make a change. But she also knew that if Thirteen ever knew just how radical her beliefs leaned, they would have no choice but to interfere. Rika would have to get them out of the way.
And when the hero became the distressed, content to stay anonymous, who would rescue Thirteen then?
Starter for @spacerescued
It wasn’t long before Sal had made his way out toward Sector oo1. He had been in the middle of working on school-related work, but when he heard the news, he’d set out right away. It had been a bit of a struggle getting there, as he preferred not to use up any of his magic in travel and the train schedule had been disrupted by the chaos. Fortunately, he had been practicing riding his bike and managed to get there soon enough.
Still, its hardly enough to satisfy him. He hardly wants to imagine how things might act in a place like Sector oo1. There’s no telling just how the city will behave with fallen or damaged buildings. Will things still change every hour on the hour? And if so... Sal gulps as he hops off his bike and sets up on the sidewalk. Best get to work.
The moment he’s on foot, Sal’s tapping away at his phone, working to contact any others in the Blades. And Marissa too, of course. Sounded like things were already starting to get busy where she was and extra volunteers were coming in... But at the very least, they had enough to accept more for Sal to send their way. Anyone that could handle the stress of a teleport like that.
It doesn’t take much more walking through the streets to find places that had been heavily damaged. And no doubt where people were stuck under the rubble as well. He gives a brief look upward as lightning lanced across the sky, but tried to not get too distracted by it.
As he got closer to the ruined structure, he caught the scent of someone there, already working away at the rubble. He walks in their direction, shoes slapping on ground to let them know of his presence. Better that than say something and ruin their focus. Situations like these were always so precarious.
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Memo held in her hands a Styrofoam container, full of takeout she had just gotten at a nearby fast food place. She walked down the halls of the school until she found the door she was told was Thirteen’s office—yes, she actually went around and asked people until she found someone who knew where their office was.
She also asked when the class they taught was, so she knew that Thirteen should be on their break by and was likely to actually be in the office. She walked up to the door and gave it a good couple of knocks, then did a quick spin on one of her heels to turn herself around, leaning back against the door and opening her styrofoam container to pick at her food.
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It was still early in the afternoon. Memo hadn’t even been awake all too long, nor had she really done anything yet today. And yet, despite that, she still found herself beginning to nod off on the train. She was fighting with herself to stay awake, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes, but it was a futile effort. Eventually, she just couldn’t stay awake anymore, and fell asleep on the ride to her destination.
And in her sleep, she started drifting off to her right, eventually finding her head resting against the comfy stranger next to her.
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Her teeth were still chattering, which made it harder to speak than she would’ve liked. “Are you sure I’m not already frozen to death? I can barely feel my face.”
She was hugging herself, but any potential extra warmth that gave her was cancelled out by the fact that her sweater was still wet. Though her room was heated, it wasn’t doing a good job of drying her. “I should have stuff in my kitchen.. you can use any glass, it doesn’t matter. I’m gonna go change, okay?”
She’d then walk to her room, leaving Thirteen to figure out what they were gonna make in the kitchen, and come out a few minutes later. Now she was wearing another pair of sweatpants but with a white tanktop, meaning her golden streamers and third eye were uncovered now.
Δ
Δ = playing with their hair
When she popped by a visit today unannounced, Thirteen was at their desk, working. She didn’t want to interrupt that, even if Thirteen insisted that it was no interruption at all. They settled on a middle ground of ‘You keep working, Thirteen, but I won’t leave, I’ll just hang out’ as opposed to Memo’s first plan of going back home.
She spent most of her time making sure Beetle got their fair share of playtime, but at some point, Memo had sat down to rest, leaning against the side of Thirteen’s chair, and Beetle had fallen asleep on her lap. She couldn’t move (she wouldn’t dare interrupt a sleeping kitten) so she sat there, head resting against one of Thirteen’s legs. They didn’t seem to mind, nor did they seem to notice right away that she fell asleep.
But Thirteen must have noticed at some point, because they started stroking her hair. Their gloves were surprisingly soft, though large enough that they could’ve covered her whole face. Memo was sleeping, but she could still feel this happening. A sleepy grin spread across her face, her body relaxing even more than it already was.
After a moment, her third eye opened, the glow from her chest and the disappearing of one of her wish tags letting it be known that she was making a wish. One made in her dream that she was unaware she was making. If the glow wasn’t enough for Thirteen to notice, the letter suddenly appearing out of thin air onto the stack of paper’s Thirteen had on their desk might be. On the front was written in a frilly font, “Thirteen” with a yellow heart wax seal keeping the letter closed.
As oblivious as Thirteen might possibly be sometimes about Memo, they didn’t fail to notice the letter. They stopped stroking her hair and went to unseal it and read it... but it was just an empty envelope. Nothing to be read there.
Memo must have subconsciously noticed that Thirteen was no longer petting her, because she woke up, only vaguely aware that Thirteen was doing it in the first place.
“Hey... why’d you stop.. ?”