Linneus was uncertain boarding the train in the first place, less so coming off it and he hesitates at the underground entrance, buffeted by the departing crowd until eventually he moves (or is moved) off to the side.
His eyes linger too long on the dragon’s looming figure, if he lets them and he cannot, but the surrounding devastation and destruction is just as hard to look at, even frozen. Despite himself he is backing up, backing away, careful footsteps toward the Underground again. There’s no shame in trying to retreat, and Linneus isn’t making any attempt to be covert about it. He is simply remembering, all too painfully, how small and insignificant he was in the face of this disaster, and he is caught up in that memory as he backs into a chest, or stumbles over a foot]
Oh—!
b) Replay
[His first chunk of spare time finds him in his home. It’s all an awful mess - broken furniture, shattered windows… even the flowerbeds he tended in and around the housing area are wilted and dead, when he goes out to check them.
He shan’t be sleeping here tonight. When he might, he can’t possibly say, but ‘never’ is certainly a possibility that runs through his head as he picks through the wreckage of a life set on pause, carrying out what can't be salvaged and stacking up those small things that can. Amongst his items - he never thought he would see the day - the strange, stone carving he'd received some months back.]
c) Replay - IV
Excuse me?
[if you feel a light tugging on your clothes… well, you might need to look down. Linneus was still a little vertically-challenged around aged six, though the cloud of pink curls around his head and bright blue eyes are certainly unmistakeable.
His small hand holds onto whatever piece of clothing he has tugged; cautious-]
Linneus | Teahouse
[time has not made it any easier.
Linneus was uncertain boarding the train in the first place, less so coming off it and he hesitates at the underground entrance, buffeted by the departing crowd until eventually he moves (or is moved) off to the side.
His eyes linger too long on the dragon’s looming figure, if he lets them and he cannot, but the surrounding devastation and destruction is just as hard to look at, even frozen. Despite himself he is backing up, backing away, careful footsteps toward the Underground again. There’s no shame in trying to retreat, and Linneus isn’t making any attempt to be covert about it. He is simply remembering, all too painfully, how small and insignificant he was in the face of this disaster, and he is caught up in that memory as he backs into a chest, or stumbles over a foot]
Oh—!
b) Replay
[His first chunk of spare time finds him in his home. It’s all an awful mess - broken furniture, shattered windows… even the flowerbeds he tended in and around the housing area are wilted and dead, when he goes out to check them.
He shan’t be sleeping here tonight. When he might, he can’t possibly say, but ‘never’ is certainly a possibility that runs through his head as he picks through the wreckage of a life set on pause, carrying out what can't be salvaged and stacking up those small things that can. Amongst his items - he never thought he would see the day - the strange, stone carving he'd received some months back.]
c) Replay - IV
Excuse me?
[if you feel a light tugging on your clothes… well, you might need to look down. Linneus was still a little vertically-challenged around aged six, though the cloud of pink curls around his head and bright blue eyes are certainly unmistakeable.
His small hand holds onto whatever piece of clothing he has tugged; cautious-]
I can’t find my way home…
[he’s being SO BRAVE.]