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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 16, 2013 20:49:08 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. To Moose, it didn't feel personal. It wasn't like it was something he thought or felt. It was just something he was, no more secret then his height or the scar on his nose. Even if most people wouldn't be immediately aware that his memories were gone, they would figure it out soon enough. It wasn't something he could even attempt to hide, even if he wanted to. All he could do was live with it and move on. If anything, things were easier for him if he got it out ahead of time. In general, while people might be a bit weirded out by his lack of memory, no one hated him for it.
The fact that he'd been to prison was something else entirely. He couldn't hide that either--not for long--but people didn't like that at all. He knew how they'd react, and it was something he strove to keep a secret from people as long as possible. Being homeless people could understand. Having brain damage people could understand. But the moment he so much as mentioned he'd been to prison, the vast majority of people would head the other way.
Standing there, Moose was vaguely aware that Oskenonton was uncomfortable. He wasn't good at reading body language, but the little stutter made it obvious enough, and after a moment he started walking again.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to freak you out. Found out it's easier to say that stuff at the start so people don't get confused when I don't know something they do."
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 16, 2013 21:11:31 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. He was sincerely expecting for the both of them to just stand there awkwardly for the next half hour, but maybe that was the exhaustion getting to his head. Perhaps Moose just didn’t care who knew what had happened; it was just a scar, and an accident. It wasn’t like he’d murdered a guy, right? Right? He’d like to think that. He could really only hope, and being alone in an isolated environment certainly didn’t help matters.
When Moose started walking again, he let him pass him, and then quickly caught up to walk next to him. His hands were still stuffed in his pockets, but otherwise he seemed to have gone right back to relaxed. ”Yeah, that’s understandable.” Because, of all things, it really was. So he suffered an unfortunate accident, likely not even his own fault, and now he was suffering for it. He might’ve looked big and intimidating, but he seemed nice enough so far.
”Never really suffered much in accidents myself. I don’t have any scars or anything like that; just a lot of travelling.” Which only produced memories, usually good and not too many bad.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 16, 2013 21:25:13 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. "Travelling sounds nice." But that was all it was. It sounded nice, but it wasn't anything more then that. He wasn't nearly idealistic enough to genuinely think he'd ever get to do it. His options were limited anyway--he was a convicted felon, and the vast majority of countries would laugh in his face if he so much as tried to visit. That wasn't even counting the dragonfly on his shoulder--that would make travelling even worse. Borders had enough issues about pets without taking into account magic talking dragonflies.
Cutting through the woods, he could see the lightest glimpses of light through the trees, and he perked up at the sight of it. The city would be a relief for him. The forest was alien to him, and after everything that had just happened, he would be happy to be back in the city. He gave Oskenonton a quick glance before deciding it was probably worth talking about the whole thing before they got back.
"I know you probably think you're nuts, but you weren't. All that shit really happened, and some people died. Lots more are now under the control of the big bug on the TV, and I don't know if they'll be coming back." He was fairly sure they wouldn't. He was fairly sure they'd become snacks before long, and he didn't like the thought of that. His one refuge was that he didn't know anyone, and that his memory was shoddy enough that no faces jumped out. The only woman he'd really talked to had made it out, which really just left his driver--who he'd paid no attention to. The man who'd hired him hadn't been there at all, and he'd have to be Moose's first stop the next day.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 16, 2013 21:46:46 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. ”Travelling is nice, but I don’t like big cities like this. I prefer home, but for now, I’m out and about.” And he wouldn’t come back permanently until he got too old or until he found what made him happy. His father wouldn’t be happy at all if he just came back empty handed; he wanted to him to travel, like he had. Now, what was he supposed to say when his parents asked how his week went? Would he tell them about the insanity that had just happened? Likely not.
Up ahead, he could see the twinkling of city lights and the sounds of cars were floating towards them. Ah, so they finally reached civilization, away from the woods that he’d grown to miss. He paused at the very edge, like he was hesitating on actually stepping in.
The hostel was really his destination, but a night sleeping out in the woods sounded appealing. Still, it was probably a bad idea, in a suit nontheless. A lot of things weighed on him, and it was Moose that brought it all up, causing him to glance towards him.
”…yeah, I do sort of think I’ve gone off the deep end. Just a little.” More like just a lot. The guy had a goddamn talking firefly, damn it. ”I just want some time to think about it… There was one girl in the garden with pink hair. I spoke to her for a bit, but she didn’t make it. The snakes got to her.”
He paused for a while more, staring at the bright lights of the city. He recognized it, actually; the hostel wasn’t far from where they were at all. ”Hey, do you have anywhere to sleep tonight?”
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 16, 2013 21:55:56 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. "Well, if you went off the deep end, we all went off it. But it's not drugs--I've seen enough drugs to know it, and it's not." Because no matter how much people tried to keep them out, there would always be drugs in prison. He'd stayed away from them, but others found refuge in them. It wasn't drugs, of that he was certain, but nothing else really made sense either. For Moose things not making sense wasn't that much of a struggle, on the other hand--plenty of things didn't make sense to him, even if they made sense to others.
He could understand death though. He'd seen people die--and supposedly had done it himself. Even so, no one close to him had died as far as he could recall. He'd watched people die in front of him only a few hours earlier, but he hadn't known those people. They were simply faceless humans that lacked detail or focus. Maybe if he'd spoken to them, things would have felt different, but for the moment he felt very little at all for them. The dragonfly drew more fear and mental anguish then the dead bodies that remained in the mansion. She still had sway over his life, after all.
The question caught him a bit off guard, and he gave Oskenonton a quick glance while he considered his answer. He wasn't one for lies though, and he opted for the simple truth. "Not really. Was going to head into a park and grab a bench. I've gotta drop the suit off at the agency and get my stuff back." His stuff being a very, very small amount, but it was still his stuff anyway--ragged clothes and the money he was owed, because by god, he'd done his fucking job.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 17, 2013 20:13:20 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. So, seen enough drugs to know that it wasn’t it. That certainly made him feel a lot safer, but he just sighed and shrugged his shoulders again. Whether Moose was good or bad, he’d yet to threaten him with anything other than his sheer size, so he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, if there was any benefit to that at all. Oskenon:ton simply continued to eye the city, suddenly so wary of heading in to where ‘civilization’ was.
The city was a bright beacon, especially coming out of the woods. He was dirty and his shoes were caked in mud, his suit looked roughed up and his hair was a little more disheveled than it was at the beginning of the night. He should’ve felt uncomfortable as hell, but he was actually feeling fine. He missed the woods, and it had been a fair amount of time since he’d been in there; rich people in LA demanded his art, and so he provided it while sacrificing his own time. That was how it worked, apparently. He thought it was a shitty deal, especially since most weren’t even interested in the history of the art.
”Well… If you want, and I know it’s not much, but there’s some space in the room I’m staying in. You can just sleep there for the night.” A little pause. ”It’s been a rough day for you and I, so I think you deserve a good sleep on something other than a bench.”
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 17, 2013 20:20:09 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. It was, in the better part of a month (or had it been a month? Moose wasn't entirely sure--his ability to keep track of time was terrible), the first time he'd even thought about sleeping in something other then a shelter. He'd spent a few nights here and there indoors, mostly when it rained, where his sheer size almost always guaranteed him a spot. The cots in shelters simply weren't built for someone of his size though, and they were painful and awkward. It was a sad state of affairs when sleeping in the open, on a long bench or just on the grass, was actually preferred to sleeping in a shelter.
He was vaguely aware of hotels and motels, but completely oblivious to the existence of hostels. He simply naturally assumed it would be a motel of some variety, and he paused to consider it for only a moment before deciding. It wasn't like it was a particularly hard choice. Sleeping in a room, with four walls around him would be especially nice when he was half worried that Magnus was going to come rampaging after him.
"Yeah, wouldn't mind at all." He paused, then offered an awkward addition. "Thanks. I mean it." Because he felt the need to tell people he meant it every time he thanked them. For some reason, no one ever seemed to think he was being sincere about it.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 17, 2013 20:43:29 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. Despite his initial hesitation and timidity at a man that could easily snap him in half, he’d feel rather sorry and try to convince him if he decided not to take the offer. Perhaps it was pity, or that he felt like he deserved some good rest after being attacked by giant bugs or snakes or whatever had gone after him. And his dragonfly, too, he supposed. Moose didn’t really bother him, but his roommates might think it odd.
But thankfully, Moose accepted. He could rest a little easier, he supposed, and he grinned faintly. ”Good. Now, where did you need to go?” He supposed they better pick up Moose’s stuff first before heading back to the hostel. He was hoping that everybody would be out or something by the time they got back; he was shacked up with a couple teenagers, so they were likely out all night anyways.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 17, 2013 20:47:36 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. "Nowhere." Moose responded, resisting the urge to shove his hands in his pockets. Probably not the best idea in a suit. "My stuffs all in a locker, and that place won't be open until tomorrow morning. I was supposed to get a ride back to town, but... well, that's not happening." Because the guy giving the ride was probably in the middle of some giant bug's stomach around that point. "I'll have to go get it tomorrow on my own, and explain shit. Don't want to wake the boss up with all this." Plus he really, really just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to curl up and rest--only without actually curling up.
"Just lead the way I guess." Vaguely he wondered if there would be a couch before deciding that no, a couch was probably not going to happen. The floor would be fine with him. Hell, the floor and a pillow would be goddamn heaven. It had been ages since he'd had a good pillow. They were too damn bulky to carry around unless you wanted to be a shopping cart hobo with a bunch of stuff. Easier to make one out of leaves and not worry about it.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 17, 2013 21:20:11 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. Oh, well, that made everything easier, now did it? He didn’t have a mode of transportation besides walking, so the hostel would probably be a good place to crash for the night. Besides, walking any more would be exhausting at best, so he’d beeline for a place he could rest for the night. ”Whatever suits you.” He wasn’t in a pushy mood, and he’d love to get some rest as soon as possible.
And he did lead the way, finally stepping into the city and onto a sidewalk instead of the dirt. Everything seemed to come back into perspective; he didn’t like it in LA, but the money was good and he was low on funds. He would’ve left a long time ago if people didn’t pay him so generously for his work, even if they didn’t give a damn about the history. He still wanted to get out as fast as possible, but there was that one guy who wanted a goddamn totem pole and that would take a while.
”Never planned on staying here as long as I did.” He said quietly as he turned down the familiar streets.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 17, 2013 22:14:52 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. Just as the woods were home to Oskenonton, the city as home to Moose. Everything was comforting and familiar, even if he wasn't aware of this specific part of town. It was only closer to the city center that he knew things like the back of his hand, but he still new the rough layout even if he hadn't visited this place before. He knew which way he should go to get back to town not by any intrinsic sense, but by recognizing the skyline of buildings he'd navigated by before. He stopped when they hit pavement, staring up for a bit before getting his bearings and carrying on after Oskenonton.
He only half heard what the man said as they walked, and he let himself dwell on it as he did. "You were here for... art or something?" All he had were rough pieces of the puzzle he was trying to push together. There weren't enough pieces to even form the frame, let alone guess at the picture, and unless Oskenonton was fairly up front about what he did, Moose wasn't going to figure it out on his own. If someone had asked right then for Moose to guess Oskenonton's ethnicity, he'd have probably guessed 'some kind of mixed hispanic', simply due to sheer lack of exposure.
"Always lived in the city, so I really don't mind it. It's got it's pleasant places and it's pleasant people, but I don't really have much to judge by." Nothing to really compare to, so to speak. Maybe he'd really like living out in the country. Maybe he'd like living in another country entirely. He had no way of knowing, and didn't think he'd ever get to test.
"Are you going to make a run for it then? Leave the state?" He wouldn't be terribly surprised. Most people would want to get as far away from the monsters as possible. It practically went without saying for those who had the means to do so. Moose didn't, but then he also didn't see any reason for Oskenonton not to leave.
Which he supposed, in an odd way, would be kind of sad. He liked the guy. He'd been nice, had given him a place to sleep and a meal. Most importantly of all, he'd talked to him like a person, even after finding out he was homeless. It was a rare thing, and Moose appreciated it. He didn't like the idea of not seeing him again, even if he supposed that was selfish of him.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 19, 2013 19:23:29 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. A faint nod, eyeing the various signs on the street as they walked. It wasn’t exactly a good part of town, but it definitely wasn’t skid row either and he was so thankful for that. His reasons for being around still varied at times; there were a few instances where he thought he’d get used to it and stick around, and other times when he got extremely homesick and just wanted to leave to a quieter, more secluded place.
”Yeah… work. Art is my work, really. I travel and make a lot of traditional, Native American artworks, especially from the coast. Places like this love it, but it’s difficult to be far away from home all the time.” And he could’ve just stayed for the rest of his life, but his father insisted that he go out and see the world, perhaps find something or someone that made him happy, then return to settle if he so wished.
But making a run for it… Now what was a very interesting way to put it, now wasn’t it? He thought about it for a while. ”I don’t know. I still have a lot of work here to do, but honestly, I’m not sure where I’m headed next.” Passing a familiar sign, he turned left, and the hostel was right ahead. ”Might sound really stupid, but it was actually my dad who told me to travel in the first place. He found my mom while travelling, so I think he hopes something like that’ll happen for me.”
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 20, 2013 19:28:40 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. Native American art? To say the least, Moose had not even the slightest clue what that meant or implied. What he knew about natives could be summed up in fifty words or less. He was vaguely aware of only the most basic and general explanation, but none of that included anything about art. He didn't know what it looked like, or that it was still practiced, and he really only had the smarts to realize that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't blurt out that he'd thought all the natives were dead. That was the impression he'd gotten from the lessons, which had been fairly shoddy and incomplete.
So was Oskenonton a native then? He actually squinted at him slightly, trying to work it out. Maybe he was. Only he had no idea what a native looked like, so it was hard to say if he was or not. Really, he wasn't that concerned about sounding stupid, so he opted to just ask. "You're native then?" What exactly that implied was beyond him, but it at least explained his features.
The whole explanation of his father really didn't click with Moose at all. He had no memory of his parents, no strong formative memories or connections. If his parents were still alive, he had no idea, but he knew that they felt no connection to him. In all his time in prison, he'd never had a single outside visitor. Not a single letter, not a single call. If anything, he hoped they were dead--it meant no trouble, no chance of one of them showing up and expecting things from him he couldn't provide.
So he offered a short grunt to that. "Finding a woman then?" Which was a fairly crude way of putting it.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 20, 2013 19:42:37 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. A lot of people would instantly assume that Oskenon:ton as a Native American of some sort. He just had that look that people associated with them; dark skin, dark hair and braids that he liked to wear. The things he carried with him often tipped it off as well, though he hadn’t brought any of that along today. Well, none that was visible; he always carried his tomahawk with him. Moose asked, and he thought it’d been fairly obvious up front. His name practically screamed it, but he supposed not.
”Yeah, I’m Haida from my mother’s side and Mohawk from my father’s. Grew up on Haida Gwaii, so a bit more of a connection there.” He didn’t expect Moose to actually know what any of that meant. To him, Haida was probably a new word and Mohawk meant the hairstyle, which had an odd past in itself, but he wasn’t holding that against him.
Though it was a fairly crude way of putting it, Oskenon:ton laughed shortly, a slow grin coming up on his face. ”Nah, not really. At least, I don’t think so. He just wants me to find something that makes me happy, that’s all. My mom makes him happy, so I think that’s what he meant.” His dad got cryptic at times, but at least he was halfway straight forward.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 20, 2013 20:03:12 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. Moose only knew about half the words in that sentence, and he squinted a bit at those he did know. Mohawk was a hairstyle. How could his father be a freaking hairstyle? It had to be something else--something he was missing entirely. After a moment of squinting he decided it probably didn't matter. It wasn't as if he knew what a 'Haida' was. There was no way for him to compare the two when he didn't know what either one was.
So not a woman. To Moose, the entire thing--laughing amused at something a parent had said--was entirely alien. There was nothing he could relate it to. Hell, he couldn't even relate to that kind of amused laughter. The farthest he got was an amused smirk. As far as he could recall, he'd never laughed in his life. He'd simply never felt the urge. There had never been anything he'd felt genuinely humored by enough to elicit any sort of laughter.
"Well, happiness is a pretty nice goal I guess." And that was almost as alien to him as laughter. He didn't exist for happiness--he existed to survive for the sake of it, because it was a primary instinct that was almost never overwritten. He didn't even have a firm 'goal'--just vague ideas of things he'd like, like a place to sleep and maybe even someone who he could talk to.
Pausing not far from the hostel, he looked it up and down briefly.
"Can't say it was what I was expecting." Definitely not a motel.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 20, 2013 20:21:53 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. It was a nice goal, wasn’t it? There were times when he thought he found it, only for it to fall through. There were other times when he despaired and thought he never would, and those days were passed just lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling, or sitting around and watching people go on with their lives as he waited for his own energy to come back. It wasn’t exactly rare, but thankfully wasn’t an everyday occurrence.
”I guess it is.” His voice went a little quieter, mulling over it as he approached the hostel and barely noticing when Moose paused. He had a card and everything, and he’d need to check in and make an excuse about Moose to security. ”I mean, it’s what I’m out here for, anyways. It’d be a shame if I came back with nothing.” He just highly doubted that he’d be staying in LA for much longer, though he said that last week as well, and the week before last.
”Never been in a hostel before?” They were extremely cheap, which was nice while he travelled. He opened the door and held it for Moose. ”Not bad when you’re on a budget; cheaper than a motel at least.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 20, 2013 20:30:52 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. No, never a hostel before. He didn't even know the word, although it was close enough to 'hotel' that he figured it was probably similar. He gave him a brief glance before stepping in, ducking in through the door and feeling almost immediately out of place. He was out of place almost anywhere he went, but a small hostel only made him more so.
"No. Just outside or shelters. If I had money, it went to food, not shelter." It wasn't as if it snowed or went below freezing in LA. The only weather he had to worry about was storms. Of all the places in the world to be homeless, LA was far from one of the best, but at the very least the weather wasn't against him.
He gave a brief glance around before scooting a bit closer to Oskenonton. He didn't know what to do or where to go. Did they sign in? Was someone going to ask who he was? Where were they sleeping? Where they'd walked in looked more like a lobby then anything, but he had so little experience in the area that he was more or less completely in the dark, forced to take Oskenonton's lead.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 20, 2013 20:52:26 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. ”Yeah, I get that.” Food was important, after all. Oskenon:ton often made his own in the communal kitchen when he could; eating out got expensive rather quickly, and he tried to avoid it when he could. Food was affordable, thank god, though he sort of felt what sort of situation Moose was in. As he was growing up, he remembered food being short in his household. Everybody lived off the land, so sometimes there was less and sometimes there was a lot. Few people went to the grocery store, and a lot of his diet consisted of fish.
Inside was small and cramped and dim; the reception area was dingy at best, with a desk that was left empty most of the time and a tattered couch that looked downright unsanitary to sit on. Thankfully, the rest of the place seemed clean enough; the hallway was swept with no peeling paint, and the staircase was empty and brick. No graffiti, thankfully; it was a cheaper one in the city, but at the very least it was maintained.
They needed to take a set of stairs to the second and top floor, and the hallway was also dim and empty. His room was at the very end, and he didn’t encounter any security on the way, thankfully. A brief knock on the door before he swiped his card, the door clicking open with ease.
Nobody was there. He let out an audible sigh of relief, then stepped in and flicked on the life. There were three sets of bunk beds, but they were essentially all taken and Moose would have to make it on the floor. Small wooden cupboards were set up in between, and pull-out curtains for privacy were lined up along the edges. ”Well, here we are.”
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 20, 2013 20:57:51 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. Moose really had only a rough idea of what the inside of a hotel looked like, but even he knew it didn't look like this. He stepped into the room, glancing over things and finding it all familiar. The room was bigger then a prison cell, sure, but most people spent their time on bunks, and he'd spent some of his time on them. Not all of them, because they found he was simply too large for conventional bunk beds and the damn thing was a health hazard, but he certainly had experience with them.
Not that he was getting a bunk. He glanced at the bits of clothes and other signs of people who weren't Oskenonton, and then glanced back at him. "You share I guess?" He was hoping none of them were coming home. He didn't want to deal with people. He liked being along with Oskenonton, who was calm enough at the moment, and who kept him distracted. A crowd was just going to remind him of the crowd he just met.
Never mind the problem of the dragonfly. He eyed the cabinet, then reached up, nudging the dragonfly until it sat on his finger. From there, he moved over and reached up, scooting her on top of the dresser. No one was going to accidentally step on her there.
"Alright, you stay up there, alright? Because if not, someone's going to step on you and I don't want your dad coming after me." He didn't feel particularly protective over the bug at the moment. She seemed nice enough, but she was less then six hours old and had burst from the back of some kind of monster, which meant he wasn't exactly jumping up and down to take care of her.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 20, 2013 21:06:10 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. Oh yeah, the little bug was still there. He watched as Moose nudged her off onto one of the cabinets, which didn’t bother him in the slightest. Alright, if it was still there and not dead by tomorrow, he figured he’d be a little more willing to believe it was some sort of pet, though he had to wonder how the hell it did follow him around and listen. A little dragonfly actually managed to stay on his shoulder the whole night, hiking in the woods or not, and then into a hostel of all places.
Well, until he spoke to it. Oskenon:ton squinted a little at that, but sat down on his bed and quickly kicked off his shoes. ”Other bunks are taken, unfortunately. There’s an extra pillow and blanket in the cabinet, and I can pull the curtain over for privacy and all that.” He hoped Moose wouldn’t be curious and check when the rest of them came back, though. They might not take too kindly to a strange man sleeping on the floor.
Oskenon:ton sighed, reaching for his bag with that. There wasn’t much in it; clothes and other little trinkets; the rest of his tools he kept in a belt on top of the cabinet.
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