( + ) chugging along! @yuael
it seems she was on an illegal streak lately. her current activity containing the act of destroying public property… except she had an excuse. or some sort of excuse. let’s just call it a reason to be on the safe side, she doesn’t have enough evidence to back it up if it’s deemed an excuse. so, yes, back on track here. her madness has a reason behind it, a silly one if she had to admit. you know how staplers are supposed to be really handy, especially when working around the office to organize documents together? well, yeah. they were pretty handy indeed… the sharp edges of those evil edges always seeming to find their way to inflict pain onto the tips of her fingers, and she had finally had enough of it. no more! she will have no more of this! staplers are dead to her.
which yes, lead up to why she was now destroying public property. the mangled grass of the public park now corrupted with a fray hole and miscellaneous dirt scattered around the area. she truly didn’t think this entire thing out either, the dirt that crept up underneath her nails being an extreme nuisance that kept her face in an annoyed scowl. it was probably karma either way, just how it was her unlucky nature to be caught in this ordeal. oh wait, was she really caught? ah, nervous laughter. that was invented for situations like this, the weight of her shoulders perching over to quickly finish off the task so she could come up with some excuse– i mean reason to her current actions.
“what?” she was acting innocent now, her head turning around as her hands folded behind her back with the gardening tool to keep it hidden. she wasn’t burying anything! it was all just an illusion. “i’m not burying anyone.” see, now actually, she was telling the truth… she technically wasn’t burying anyone, rather something. “what are you burying?”
Mi quickly learns that making money and having a stable income doesn’t mean you can stop saving. You never stop saving. At least barring some extraordinary circumstance where she goes on to become some celebrity furniture upholsterer or cat lady. Maybe it’s the inventor and maker inside her too, but she’s always coming up with cheaper ways to do things: old sweatshirts turned into oven mitts and broken tables to chairs, and everything in between.
Today, her search is for cheap—free—potting soil for her new flowering maple plant that she’d recently moved inside. Actually, the general supply of soil had been dwindling lately. The perfect place to replenish?—the parks after sunset. Mi figures between the abundance of dogs and ducks and small children, there’s plenty of compostable stuff in that ground.
Usually, when she visits, armed with a couple old empty rice bags, there’s not much of a crowd. The late homeward-bound straggler taking a shortcut, a homeless man or two, a stray cat, the random thoughtful young musician looking for inspiration under the stars. Ah yes, company. Today though, Mi stumbles upon a strange sight, ambling over to the little patch of ground she would normally go to. There’s a girl, digging. Mi slows her pace and tiptoes closer, peers over, squinting in the dim light of a single lamp nearby. Burying something.
The way the girl startles so nervously upon Mi’s question is a little suspicious. She blinks down at the stranger, at the messy mound of dirt (needs a little fixing up still, for sure), then at the stranger’s hands tucked behind her back. “Nobody? Are you sure? Is it a pet fish? Lunch for tomorrow?” Her eyebrows are still arced high in curiosity as she squats down by the girl, and flashes her a grin. Nothing wrong with a little fun. “Me? I’m actually digging someone up-”
