Baroona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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compyuutah2013-10-08 09:57 pm
broroona) wrote in compyuutah2013-10-08 09:57 pm
Entry tags:
standing in the middle of roads upon arrival is becoming tradition
[Funny, how your life can change in an instant. Baroona had already experienced it enough. Twice recently–both arrivals to the City. But after a year he had assumed he was stuck there. A permanent fixture in a futuristic city he had only just started to get used to.
He was wrong.
From laying in the park to sitting up in a dirtied alleyway, the change was instantaneous. A quick look around guarantees that he's alone, allows for a moment of panic. Check to make sure everything is still here: knives, cigarettes, lighter, clothes... translator? Baroona stares down at it curiously, it's presence oddly comforting in his hand. He keeps it there and stands, listening and looking.
It looks like the City. There's a thick crowd at the end of the alleyway and brightly colored balloons passing by overhead. He recognizes it from the City. A parade? Maybe. It's certainly noisy enough.
This isn't going to be fun.
With a sigh, he presses forward anyway, slipping through and around people, taking himself to the front. People glare as he pushes past but get distracted before there's any issues. A float passes by. Baroona regards it plainly. Definitely a parade. What a pain.
Looking past the floats and balloons, Baroona studies the buildings, looks for something familiar. But familiarity is hard to spot when everything looked foreign in the first place. It's hard to tell. A quirk of a frown pulls at his lips as he moves towards another tactic. He fits the translator into his ear, and pushes it on.
At first, all goes well. The strange language being spoken around him gets translated. Yeah, I'm– and then cut off. Static fills his ears instead, loud and merciless. Baroona bows forward, clutching his ear with a wince. The people around him notice and give him space but he can't tell. The static changes to feedback-a high-pitched scream drilling into his head. He winces again and stumbles forward, into the parade and in front of the float. Still, Baroona doesn't notice. Not until the translator is out of his ear and thrown on the ground does he even look up, shoulders slumping.
The people on the float look down at him, shocked. The parade comes to a temporary halt. Security closes in on him from all sides and people shout foreign words from the sidelines. But all Baroona can hear is his own breath as he looks over the float as a thought occurs to him.
He has no idea where he is.]
He was wrong.
From laying in the park to sitting up in a dirtied alleyway, the change was instantaneous. A quick look around guarantees that he's alone, allows for a moment of panic. Check to make sure everything is still here: knives, cigarettes, lighter, clothes... translator? Baroona stares down at it curiously, it's presence oddly comforting in his hand. He keeps it there and stands, listening and looking.
It looks like the City. There's a thick crowd at the end of the alleyway and brightly colored balloons passing by overhead. He recognizes it from the City. A parade? Maybe. It's certainly noisy enough.
This isn't going to be fun.
With a sigh, he presses forward anyway, slipping through and around people, taking himself to the front. People glare as he pushes past but get distracted before there's any issues. A float passes by. Baroona regards it plainly. Definitely a parade. What a pain.
Looking past the floats and balloons, Baroona studies the buildings, looks for something familiar. But familiarity is hard to spot when everything looked foreign in the first place. It's hard to tell. A quirk of a frown pulls at his lips as he moves towards another tactic. He fits the translator into his ear, and pushes it on.
At first, all goes well. The strange language being spoken around him gets translated. Yeah, I'm– and then cut off. Static fills his ears instead, loud and merciless. Baroona bows forward, clutching his ear with a wince. The people around him notice and give him space but he can't tell. The static changes to feedback-a high-pitched scream drilling into his head. He winces again and stumbles forward, into the parade and in front of the float. Still, Baroona doesn't notice. Not until the translator is out of his ear and thrown on the ground does he even look up, shoulders slumping.
The people on the float look down at him, shocked. The parade comes to a temporary halt. Security closes in on him from all sides and people shout foreign words from the sidelines. But all Baroona can hear is his own breath as he looks over the float as a thought occurs to him.
He has no idea where he is.]
1/2
Misuzu had brought that up a good four hours ago. It was nearing 8:00 PM, and Mikoto had yet to hear from her mother after texting and calling her countless times. Kuroko peeps her head out from where she's freshening up in the bathroom upon hearing Mikoto's loud growling as she calls Misuzu yet again, only to yet again be taken to voicemail.
"Still nothing, onee-sama?"
Mikoto is mere moments away from destroying her phone. She's gripping it in her hand, eye twitching.]
No, because my mom's stupid. God, why can't she ever----
["Ah, but onee-sama, surely we can have a moment to ourselves for the time being~"
Mikoto swiftly whirls around; she knows that purr in Kuroko's voice anywhere, and...there she is, dressed in scandalous lingerie.
Needless to say, the hotel suddenly goes dark.]