winddaughter: (I'd show a smile)
Anemone ([personal profile] winddaughter) wrote in [community profile] nysalogs2017-08-01 12:14 am

[closed]

Who: Anemone ([personal profile] winddaughter) & Goro Akechi ([personal profile] jurisdick)
What: Welcome to your new temporary housing.
When: Descent Pt. 3
Where: House #16
Warning(s): ...probably nothing to worry about.



She hasn't had a home since she was a child. Since before her mind lost itself to the Zone and she turned out to be the perfect (and only) pilot for theEND. After that, the Izumo was the closest thing she had to a home. That was probably as temporary as House #16 will be.

It's... lively though. She likes it, the sound of everyone moving into homes. It's a different than the noise of battle, or the panic of the descent.

In all this chaos, she actually feels calm.

"Home sweet home, I guess."

She doesn't claim a bedroom, she just sprawls out on the couch.
jurisdick: (♥)

[personal profile] jurisdick 2017-08-01 04:45 am (UTC)(link)
Akechi isn't much better. The last time he called a place home was years ago. The foster homes were never home for him, and the places he grew up with his mother before she passed away were less than stellar. He can barely remember them now. The closest thing he's had to a home has been his shoddy studio in Shibuya, but even that feels cold, empty, unlike what he reads in books as to what a home should be. Not like he really cares; it's collateral.

He arrives to the house shortly after Anemone, feeling a bit stiff. The events of the past few days have taken their toll on him, and he's had a horrible headache ever since landing. This whole 'end of the world' thing really has thrown his plans for a loop. He needs time to recalibrate.

He does recognize the blob of person on the couch, though, when he comes in through the front door. Ah.

"You look comfortable," it's said calmly, a quick glance to her as he shuts the door.
jurisdick: (pic#11522890)

[personal profile] jurisdick 2017-08-01 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
"I don't disagree with that."

The station had been stifling, strange, off-putting. At least this seemed a bit more normal, despite the fact that it was harder to keep an eye on the pods from this far away.

"It seems that this is a permanent arrangement. Why else go to the trouble of all of this?" he observes, stepping into the room and beyond the couch to investigate the rest of the living room. Maybe there are clues? Who knows.
jurisdick: (pic#11487804)

[personal profile] jurisdick 2017-08-01 06:38 am (UTC)(link)
He hadn't seen her, either. Nor had he seen anyone else with #16.

"It seems too convenient, yes."

Given the status of things, of course. Too many questions and far too few answers. Still, it's nice that she isn't trying to buddy up to him now that she realizes they're sharing a residence. The idea of having to play nice, even in the sanctuary of his own residence, had been a grating thought. This seemed much more fitting.

He pauses near the exit of the room, though, gaze flicking back to her.

"Are you feeling any better?" Not that he cares, but... it's polite to ask.
jurisdick: (pic#11512531)

[personal profile] jurisdick 2017-08-01 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)
She's strange.

But perhaps that's a good thing. Someone overbearing, someone that just wanted to pry and get to know each other would not work out well. It'd definitely wear him thin. So he almost smirks to himself at her curt response.

"Of course." He drops it easily enough and heads around to sit on one of the chairs.

"There's ... quite a few interesting people that were saved." Morons. He means the people that were saved, that are out of the pods, aren't stellar representations of society. A few idiots come to mind.