ohgoodyamurder:

After a moment, the woman paused in her step, turned to him, met his eyes. Asked her careful question. Thoughtful, but not too thoughtful to miss his stare. Good. Her expression was calmly shielded with neutrality—not thoughts she would want to share, then. Not at all.

“If you don’t mind my asking, where exactly are we? I seem to have lost my way.”

After catching his eyes on her, she was understandably wary. It was too late to put on a facade of scared, or confused, but he could do lost, certainly, especially since he actually—sort of—was. What had she been thinking about? Someone she missed? Her eyes were defiant, as if daring him to look further. Well, he wasn’t about to disappoint her.

Hands twining, behind her back or in front of her, not in her pockets. Worried about something, but not something she can fix, more of an abstract worry—like she hasn’t seen someone in a long time and wants to make sure they’re okay. Breathing seems a bit ragged, like she’s recently seen something, or someone, she didn’t expect to, and is still recovering. Touches her hair—someone she likes, then. Self-conscious, even as she puts her guard up. Something says she’s met someone like him before.

Recently encountered someone she loves, but lost them again, possibly for good. Doesn’t believe she’ll ever see that person again, likely because of whatever threat looms on her horizon. A sad story, truly.

In response to her level, yet guarded question, the vaguely familiar (where had she seen someone like this before? It kept nagging at her that she had seen this person from somewhere and should know them very well but she couldn’t quite place a finger to the thought) stranger got straight to the question he had: where they were.

Ah, another ‘newcomer’ to this odd city, it seemed like. More and more people seemed to be finding themselves hopelessly lost - or just ‘finding’ themselves here, as she herself had  - every day now, and she didn’t much like how uneasy that made her.

Inner thoughts aside, she answered the question to the point as much as the other had asked in that way, explaining aloud: “This town is called “Fiddler’s Green”, if I remember one of the faded signs I saw around here correctly. However, It was quite hard to make out, so I cannot say for sure whether that is truly this place’s name. I do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but those who find their way here seem utterly unable to leave, as illogical as that may sound.”

A pause then, before she continued: “Someone I met earlier pointed out something must have happened to this town, so perhaps that may have something to do with it. Take that with a grain of salt if you will, but those that seem ‘native’ to here all indeed seem on quite the knife-edge tension wise, so there must be some truth to that, as rhetorical as such musings were.” That information that the Colonel Roy passed on to her relayed to another all spoken, she finished by giving an apologetic sort of shrug, admitting:

“That’s all the information I’ve managed to collect thanks to observation and asking  others so far, I do apologize for how lacking it was. I’m still working on collecting information, but those…things that lurk the town make going out by yourself quite dangerous.”

Hopefully, that meagre information would be just enough to help the other.

“Oh…how very rude of me. In all that explaining, I forgot to introduce myself. Claire Folly is my name. I used to be a scientist.” She didn’t go into detail about why she wasn’t a scientist any more and frankly, she didn’t want to, so hopefully the other wouldn’t ask.

ohgoodyamurder:

unwoundmaiden started following you

An enigma.

Her eyes had something of a sadness in them, but determination as well. Pale, scientists’ hands, careful in their stillness. Mouth tight—hiding something, repressing her emotions. Accustomed to secrecy, it seems. Confused. Fingers clasping idly together—nervous, or she misses someone. Likely the latter. Hair tied back—yes, a scientist. What kind? Not a lab technician, not in those clothes, but some sort of theoretical physicist, perhaps, the kind that does equations instead of experiments. Worried circles under her eyes, worried tugging at her sleeves. Optimistic energy in her steps.

Tentative steps and eyes betray a defeatist attitude despite the idealism. Aware that she’s going to die, possibly even aware of the details. Likely some sort of disease, but possibly something far more sinister.

He stood, and watched, unaware of how bizarre it made him look.

As of the current moment, the time-travelled maiden was considering as reasonably as possible - the apperance and disapperance of her beloved in this city.

It had all spun by so fast: they hadn’t even gotten to say all that much to one-another. Yet, despite the cruel irony of fate: to deliberately let Hershel see her, and she see him, despite the overwhelming sadness at yet again being forced away from the one she loved most: there was a bright side to this all. She had gotten to see him again, no matter how short it had been. She knew that he was safe and well, and that was a great blessing, despite not getting to spend more time with him. Also, this way, she would not have to worry about creating a potential time paradox and messing up his past. Above all, the thing she desired most was for his future to remain bright. To remain stable. If that meant she could not be part of it any more, then she could accept this.

True, it would be accepted as a heavy burden. If it was for him, though…she was willing to make that sacrifice. She would make that sacrifice a thousand times over. Right now, she was still clinging to the happiness of getting to talk to him, touch his hat again, as simple and childish as it was: for it had brought joy.

As well as sadness - that was life, she supposed. You had to take the good with the bad. However, her musings were cut short as she walked along - someone was watching her. Turning, then, she spotted a stranger who seemed almost vaguely familiar. Hm. Raising a silent brow at the clearly observational stare, she spoke, saying:

“…Sir, are you perhaps in need of assistance?”

Her tone was level, polite, showing her kind intentions to help if she could, but also right to the point, as if she was saying without words: “I don’t know why you were staring but I did notice it; so please forgive me if I am a bit wary.”

a new playing field. [OPEN]

searingambition:

“A common predicament…”

[He took Claire’s hand, shaking it, as he mused upon her words. This woman seemed level-headed, which was a change of pace. Not like the brusque soldiers with their strange firearms or the sheepish citizens that scuttled in the shadows. Although that might be a result of her naivete, he realized.]

[A… scientist? Roy frowned lightly. The man was admittedly unfamiliar with the term—though, as an alchemist, he knew of physics. He knew two meanings of the word; firstly, in the modern view of physics as the natural laws of force and nature… especially how to circumvent them with alchemy.]

[Roy also knew of physic, the archaic art of medicinal alchemy, though not as well. Roy vaguely wondered which one she spoke of. Probably the former, but who knew?]

[After their greetings were exchanged, Roy moved to sit down at one of the tables. He inspected it, and decided against resting his elbows on top of the dusty tabletop.]

“Well, I can tell you what I know. It isn’t much, though.”

[The man warned her, with a slight shrug.]

“As far as I know, we are trapped here. It’s a town, yes, but it’s not very hospitable. Something’s happened. I don’t know what, exactly… obviously, it was some sort of disaster, although the military presence does not bode well. It suggests a rather hostile environment, though I can tell you, this place is no walk in the park.”

“I’ve encountered… things, here and there, but my knowledge is ashamedly scant. I do recall some kind of safe place—or places, I can’t be too sure—mentioned by some of the locals. They call this place… the Yellow Zone.”

Hm, it was quite clear from the other’s response to her mild ventings over the ‘common’ circumstances of nobody knowing just what was going on that he, too, had noted the general reluctance of the populace here to answer enquiries and the fact most other people whom were not ‘locals’ seemed in the same position as they.

It was more than a little frustrating at times, but there was little that could be done. The answers would just have to be sought out diligently with methods other than asking those around oneself. The other had a strong handshake, all thoughts regarding the matter of this odd city aside: obviously a militarian who was good at his job, to have a handshake of such confidence.

Sitting down near the table that the other was seated down at, the other was willing to tell what he knew so far, which was a nice change of pace, and she nodded, saying: 

“I can’t offer much in the way of information myself, but if you ever come across need of medical or scientific aid, I would be glad to repay the favour.”

It was only fair to offer something in exchange for this information. However, what the other had to say was none too reassuring: but really, had she expected anything less with such foreboding surroundings? 

“…Ah, and that would account for the nervous behaviour of those that live here, I wager. With such ‘things’ traipsing around as you describe - I wouldn’t blame them for being on edge as they are. I suppose the best course of action is to get to the ‘safe’ zone, for myself. I would like to stay and help people here, but that is obviously not the wisest decision with my current lack of defence.”

The summary of the situation thus stated, she sighed then, her gaze dropping to the dirty table. “Goodness knows where this ‘safe’ place even is, let alone how I am to get there, though. But it’s none of your concern. Now - is there any way I can assist you right now, sir, as thanks for that information?”

Might as well ask - that information was quite helpful indeed, and she quickly stored it away for future remembrance. 

Apprentice of Fiddler’s Green ♞ || Open

princessalchemist:

“Really?! Oh thank you, miss!”

[ It wasn’t often that someone would forgive you for hitting them over the head! Or at least in Meruru’s world; she was literally on the verge of hugging the unfamiliar woman. Rufus would often give her one of his boring lectures if she did something like that to a member of the castle…

The yellow alchemist was very impressed with the woman’s deductive skills! Even Esty didn’t have that level of deductive skills, and she was the one in charge of observing the populace of Arls! ]

“Wow, miss! You could tell that from just one reaction?! You’re really smart!

You must be some kind of detective, right?”

A truly grateful thanks from the other for herself being so willing to let this by so easily, earning a small little smile from Claire despite her predicament: it was nice to see a young person with such nice manners these days. It gave her hope that such virtues as empathy and kindness were not as ‘dead’ as others made them out to be, and besides. In a place like this, kindness would probably give hope to many a soul, she would wager.

Theoretical musings placed in the back of her thoughts for now, the young girl exclaimed that the sky-blue-clad maiden must certainly be quite smart to get at that from one reaction, before rhetorically asking that she must be a detective. Now, though a rhetorical question usually did not require an answer, the young madam was incorrect with that statement, so it was best to gently tell her this.

“That’s quite a lovely thing to say, but I’m no detective. I used to be a scientist, though, before I found myself here.”

No need to go into the details of what had happened, exactly, before she’d woken up here: it would just upset the miss, and to upset a stranger like that… goodness, it would never do. That information said, Claire then paused, before musing:

“Since we both seem to be lost, perhaps it would be a good idea to travel together for the time being? There is more safety in numbers, after all. My name is Claire Folly - and what might your name be, young miss?”

║Pᴜᴢᴢʟᴇ ɴᴏ. oo1║A Gᴇɴᴛʟᴇᴍᴀɴ Mᴜsᴛ Nᴇᴠᴇʀ Rᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ Hɪs Hᴀᴛ

verypuzzling:

[ It seemed he had been daydreaming quite intensely, as the Professor only noticed the oncoming approach of a stranger when another body had collided into his own. It wasn’t anything big, only a step or two out of place, but it wasn’t the clumsy encounter that had left the Professor so uncharacteristically speechless. No, not at all…

It was the fact that the petite lady standing shocked before him… wasn’t supposed to be there. The next few seconds felt like an eternity as Layton attempted to make sense of the situation, only to come to one conclusion.. ]

…This is impossible

[ Was he dreaming? Is that what was happening? Stranger things have occurred to cause a series of ostensible realities that had only proven to be false. But if this was a trick, it was a damn cruel one. ]

 Claire, you’re…

[ You’re… no, he didn’t dare speak it. Hershel Layton never jumps to conclusions so quickly. Not without examining the situation from every perspective and considering all of the facts beforehand. But what if the facts didn’t add up? Claire Folly had died a long, long time ago. A moment he would never forget.

Yet here she was, plain as day, staring straight back at him with as much astonishment as he was at her. It was like someone had slapped him straight in the face without warning, and he just couldn’t get over it. There was always a time and place for everything, always an answer to every puzzle, a logical and sound solution to every dilemma… But this time, there wasn’t. All the Professor could do was stand and stare, his gentlemanly countenance completely pulled out from beneath him. ]

It can’t… possibly be you…

can it…?

If Claire was looking desperately for at least one person in this almost taunting twist of fate to give some sort of quiet confidence that would help her to make sense of this, rather than be frozen on the spot, utterly at a loss of what to do or say, then sadly, she was not going to find that here. Hershel was at just as much a loss for words as she was, and she didn’t blame him one bit.

The time machine had sent her back to her own time - or at least, that was what was supposed to happen when she vanished, having to walk a corner rather quickly so she wouldn’t do so in front of him, filled with a sad, resigned acceptance and guilt.

” No doubt about it - I agree. This should be s-scientifically impossible…”

Was that a stammer just then in her usually confident tone? No, no, it couldn’t be. ‘Don’t lose it now, Claire. You’re one of the top minds in your field. You can’t let this get to you enough to make you lose a grip on some of your logic.’ (Though she sternly told herself off in her own thoughts for this, it didn’t help much at all.)

Hershel was just as - if not more - confused as her, and she…didn’t like remembering the last time she’d seen him lose a grip on his normal frame of mind like this. Goodness knew how much of a mess she looked to her beloved right now, with staring like she’d just seen the future London all over again, stammering worse than the time she’d presented an important thesis in class and not able to say all that much coherently at all.

None of it made any sense. But yet, here they were. If she was a more ‘dreamy’ kind, she would say it was fate, but as scientific as she was - she knew there was no such thing. No fate would have been cruel enough to leave him alone and burden him with so much sadness as when the time machine first ‘exploded’. There had to be some sort of explanation for all this, but…as much as she racked her mind, trying desperately to cling to some form of logic in all this, there was no logic to grab onto here. Her very views as a scientist had just been thrown out the window.

Yet, despite all the confusion, the utter shock - there was a part of her that was just glad to see him again, so at the least she had that to try and hold onto to prevent herself becoming a total wreck in front of Hershel.

“As unlogical a-as this all seems, one thing is clear. You’ve still taken…awfully good care of this hat. Even though I gave it to you what seems forever now - it still seems as new as when I picked it out for y-you.”

Taking it off her head now, she held it in her hands with gentle fondness, before attempting to give it back at least. Even if neither of them could make sense of it and were still a wreck, he should get his hat back.

Apprentice of Fiddler’s Green ♞ || Open

princessalchemist:

“H-Huh?!”

[ Meruru slowly opened her eyes, since she kept them shut during her ’ambush’, to see that it wasn’t a monster she hit over the head, but a young woman! Being from her background, Meruru really wished this was a dream; when she was just a child starting out her classes in etiquette, Rufus said that you should always treat adults with respect. Obviously this is a basic rule and obviously Meruru’s classes went into a lot more depth but one thing was certain:

Hitting a woman over the head was NOT polite!

Struggling to even form a complete sentence in her mouth, Meruru spoke ]

“Ah! I’m so sorry! It’s just that— I was— I thought you—”

[ She ended up just giving a sigh and shutting up. She was never good with excuses. She would often jump into the danger without even thinking of the consequences. The yellow alchemist fiddled with her fingers and looked at the ground as she apologised one final time ]

“I’m sorry, Miss…”

The unfamiliar young lass Claire spoke to opened her eyes with a sharp exclamation of surprise at hearing the ex-scientist mildly reprimand her for such ill-thought out actions: it seemed she hadn’t expected for her ‘target’ to be a ‘person’, by the logical observation of that response.

Slowly rubbing her now somewhat sore head a moment, Claire noted the stranger was very apologetic. Well, as long as the other understood that such hasty actions could have hurt someone, to be honest, she wasn’t looking for an ‘apology’. It was only a little bump on the head after all, no need to blow it out of proportion when the poor dear obviously felt awful about it already! Goodness, she was fumbling over her words and stammering worse than a few people she’d known in her highschool days.

Therefore, once the pain subsided a little bit, she gave the other a kind, sympathetic look.

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize, really. I’m quite fine now, so there was no ‘lasting’ harm done, and you seem so embarrassed about the whole thing. So let’s let ‘bygones be bygones’, shall we?”

Reassurance aside, she paused to consider the other.

“I’d wager you suddenly found yourself lost here in an unexplained manner, judging from your tense reaction before. Am I correct? That seems to be the general thing with people around here…but I don’t want to just jump to conclusions, so that’s why I’m asking you this.”

It was too early to figure out answers just yet, but it seemed like there was a very important clue here.

║Pᴜᴢᴢʟᴇ ɴᴏ. oo1║A Gᴇɴᴛʟᴇᴍᴀɴ Mᴜsᴛ Nᴇᴠᴇʀ Rᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ Hɪs Hᴀᴛ

verypuzzling:

[ A creed Layton stuck to religiously. Every day he would make sure to attach his beloved top hot perfectly to his head before heading out, and every night it would be carefully put to rest on his bedside table. It was practically part of him, some even joked they couldn’t tell where the hat ended and his body started. Basically, to see the Professor without a hat on his head would be akin to witnessing swine flutter across the blue sky with angel wings. 

…oink.]

[ A subtle chill teased his hair, reminding him once more that something was amiss. Well, that was an understatement: Since he had awoken in this foreign atmosphere everything had been amiss. The dull but pleasant streets of London filled with jovial citizens had been replaced with a dreary city. It was awfully hard to extract information out of anyone when all of the inhabitants would shy away at his approach.

Oh, but this wasn’t even the worst of it. Slowly making his way through the glum streets Layton would keep his eyes peeled, checking every nook and cranny twice, thrice, sometimes even four times only to turn up empty handed. Whatever had transported him here seemed to not care about his faithful attachment to his hat.  Perhaps someone had picked it up while he was knocked out…

He couldn’t blame them; it was a rather dashing adornment to anyone’s outfit. But there was only one head that fit it most, and he was determined to reunite the two. A sigh slipped through his lips as he made his way to the city’s outskirts, feeling weary and confused. ]

Where on earth could it be...

[ Looks like this is one puzzle that won’t be solved so easily. ]

Now, despite her best intentions to get some form of answers about this rather bewildering predicament - sadly, though she had gone out of her way to try talking to the civilians whom didn’t seem to be military, they had all been rather timid: backing away from her like they’d seen a ghost, or outright edging back with a suspicious look in their eyes that was all too clear. …Well, she wouldn’t blame them for the first one. Technically, they ‘had’ seen a ghost.

She understood even less than before why the time machine had seemingly sent her here than before: the more she thought about it, the more questions arose. Wait, was that someone just there? Hopeful, she approached - only for the civilian to drop an item before running away. Oh dear. This was going nowhere. She got the strong sensation this would be a very long day.

Wait, on closer inspection - the item the civilian had dropped looked very familiar. “…A top hat? What was that civilian doing with this?” Of course, talking to herself provided no answer. It reminded her of that hat she’d given to him. Actually…it seemed to be exactly the same. Was this some sort of horrible joke by this city to make her feel sad? (It was working.) Considering the hat, she weighed her options.

Deciding on a course of action, she picked it up from the ground where it lay, dusting the top off with a gentle hand before putting it on her own head. It was far too big for her, but that way if she wore it, she’d be less likely to drop it herself as the civilian had done.

The fancy hat obtained, she decided to press on. However, the fact the hat was rather too large meant it slipped over her point of view and - oh no! She’d just run into someone. How awful. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to rudely run into you like that.” A pause, then, before she lifted the hat to see who she was talking to.

And then - for the first time since she’d come to this city…her logical and calm mask broke. Asbouletly shattered, because the person in front of her was one she’d assumed - quite rightly - to never be able to see again.

“… … …Hershel? Is that really you?”

She could barely even say that much, such was the level of shock. Oh. Oh. Looks like this WAS his hat.

a new playing field. [OPEN]

searingambition:

[In the few hours he’d been wandering the town, Roy hadn’t learned all that much. He’d seen people, though. The colonel had stumbled upon a small group of them, half a dozen grimy men and women. All of them were hunched over, clutching homemade weapons and rusted firearms, obviously scared shitless, especially how they flinched when they so much as saw Roy, let alone speak to him.]

[From what little he’d learned, they were locals, people who’d lived in town before whatever had happened… had happened. Which was still a mystery to him, frustratingly enough. All he could be certain of was that something had happened, and that something had been far from pleasant.]

[What had been more informative, though, was the squad of soldiers—they couldn’t have been anything else—that had rushed past him, clutching strange-looking rifles and wearing stranger-looking gas masks. They didn’t spare the man so much as a glance, and Roy had only gotten a command to ‘shut up and clear the road’, just before a convoy of odd-looking cars had roared down the road, with machine guns of all things bolted to their roofs, with a man swiveling them about, as if expecting an attack at any moment. Their presence did not bode well, that much was certain.]

[One eyebrow quivered upwards, when a stranger—appearing as if out of nowhere, almost startling the soldier—asked him a question. As she approached, Roy appraised her. This woman appeared cleaner, less meek… and rather lost. She must be like him, he supposed. A newcomer. The cogs of his mind churned and whirred, as Roy considered the odd—but quite honestly convincing—possibility that he might not be alone in this predicament.]

“I loathe to be the be the bearer of bad news, ma’am… but I’m almost as lost as you.”

[He sighed, then looked up and down the street, almost warily. Flexing his gloved hands, the man turned to his newfound companion.]

“We shouldn’t stay too long on the streets, ma’am. It isn’t so safe.”

[With those ominous words, the man turned to the nearest building, motioning for her to follow. The sign was rusted and covered in dirt, the name illegible. But it seemed empty, and Roy did not want to linger.]

“If you’ll allow me.”

[Graciously, the State Alchemist opened the door, and he led the way into what appeared to be an abandoned cafe. It was musty, and there were some disturbing smears on the linoleum floor, but all was still. The man turned to Claire, the usual charming smile on his face.]

“I’m Colonel Roy Mustang. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

The sky-blue-clad lady paused to consider the stranger whom was now close enough to actually see through all this troublesome fog: that was a rather military-like uniform there. Not the same one as that of the serious-looking gas-mask wearers marching along, though. Now, the question was here: was this fellow just the leader of a different group? Or someone who had found their way here as well, like the majority of ‘strangers’ she had come across so far seemed to be?

The second thought proved to be the correct one, the man admitting that he was as lost here as she was.

“Ah. Such a pity. I had hoped to obtain some information about this rather confusing predicament, but it seems a rather common thing around here that nobody knows what is going on, exactly…”

A small, slightly frustrated sigh escaped her, but this minor venting aside, she then mused, “Oh well. It cannot be helped, I suppose. Complaining about it will solve nothing, so I suppose those stuck here shall have to obtain answers themselves.” However, the other seemed wary of the streets at the moment, rightly so. It said something that a militarization-looking person like this was wary, indeed. He even said they should not linger long here, as it was not safe.

“Hm. Quite right, sir. I would stick around if I had something to defend myself with, but I don’t think a medical kit would be much help ‘hurting’ anything. Really, it’s meant to do the opposite.”

This said, she followed the other into what seemed a rather dismal abandoned cafe - she’d have to make it a point to find something more useful offensive-wise later on. She certainly wasn’t going to sit here and wonder about the answers - no, she’d find them herself. After all, she hadn’t been one of the top scientists in her field for nothing. The stranger then spoke, and for some odd reason, Claire couldn’t help but remember all those times she’d happened to speak with Dimitri in the ‘Future London’ - this man seemed to give off the same impression as he did.

No, maybe that was her imagination. She certainly hoped it was, anyway: her heart already belonged to someone else.

“Claire Folly, sir. Ex-physics scientist.”

Nodding in a formal manner, she extended a polite hand for the other to shake should he choose to do so. 

a sinking feeling [ intro / open ]

forhewillprovide:

“O-oh! Yeah, I’m okay.” Proving his point, the boy got up and brushed the dust out of his clothing. He had a pair of mildly skinned knees and palms, but nothing a wash wouldn’t help. It was probably miraculous he didn’t have any broken bones, but he didn’t put too much thought into it.

“I’ve never been woken up by a falling building before, that’s for sure,” It was hard to be conversational while not sounding like he was whining, and Hastur hoped he succeeded. He liked this lady, she was pretty and she looked like a nice person. He didn’t want to make a bad impression or anything, even if there were probably other things the otherworlder should be focusing his attention on.

“Um, ma’am, I don’t mean to bother you, but do you know where I am? Like I said, I kinda just woke up, and…” He made a troubled face, looking about him at the destroyed landscape.

“I… I’m sure I didn’t fall asleep here.”

Thankfully, apart from a few scratches here and there, the young lad was perfectly fine. Though with surroundings this dilapidated, it was probably a good idea to disinfect those scratches just in case, to prevent infection and what-not. Being a physicist previously,she understood the importance of keeping wounds clean and all.

“Well, I’m quite glad you’re alright. You are a lucky young man, indeed.” A pause then, before she managed a small, somewhat joking smile. “I would be quite concerned if falling out of buildings was a common thing for anyone, dear.” Maybe a small joke such as that would help divert the attention from such foreboding surrounds, just a little. After all, keeping a calm front would be a good thing in such times as these, and what better way to do that than to do something to look on the ‘silver lining’ of this cloud?

However, the attempts to lighten this situation fizzled out like a candle in the wind rather quickly at the other asking if she knew where he was. “Unfortunately, young man, I am just as lost as you are. I suddenly found myself here when I should have been going somewhere else entirely. All I know is this city is apparently called Fiddler’s Green. …Oh, but where are my manners? I can’t just call you ‘young man’ all the time. What is your name?”

“My name is Claire Folly. Some folk pronounce my last name different, but whether you do so or not - I do hope I can help in whatever way possible.”

A child all by themselves in a place like this? Now, that certainly wouldn’t do. As the only adult around at the moment, she felt the ‘right’ thing to do was to look out for the boy…

a sinking feeling [ intro / open ]

forhewillprovide:

The only upside to this situation is that now, Hastur can say with absolute certainty that at one point in his life, he’s been woken up by the building collapsing around him.

Needless to say, it was a disorienting experience. One second, he was hanging upside-down in what he assumed was a wardrobe, the next, he was hearing a terrible cracking noise that seemed to resonate through his very bones, shaking the floor, and a sliding, and suddenly—

Open space; Hastur was flung forward out of the closet and in midair, along with several fragments of floor and a piece of the rafters. Still not fully awake yet, it took the boy a couple of precious seconds to realize his situation. The last couple seconds before hitting the ground were spent frantically pushing a gust of wind in to break his fall, which succeeded only marginally. The boy still hit the ground painfully, but the rush of air sent him skittering away from the falling wreckage rather than crushed beneath it.

“A-ah, ouch…”

Hastur sat up, battered but alive, with no bones broken. Truth be told, it would take a lot to really off him, but he was glad he was able to walk away from this. Looking at the collapsed structure, it seemed to be in bad shape in the first place, and Hastur’s added weight had been enough to bring the remaining half of the abandoned building down. How had he even gotten there? He didn’t remember anything besides going to sleep on Mahiro’s couch the night before.

Hastur sat where he had fallen, confused and aimless. What was he supposed to do now?

Uneasy steps were taken further through this city - though this part of it appeared to be somewhat safe so far, the ex-scientist knew better than to just assume this would always be the case.

Who knew what secrets this fog hid, after all? Not to mention the majority of buildings around were either half-destroyed or looking as if they were about to collapse. It paid to be careful when seeing signs of something so large and potentially dangerous near ruin, after all.

Logic suddenly disrupted, it appeared that her caution had served her well: a loud cracking noise snapped to the eerily silent air like a gunshot, Claire looking up to see a nearby building was actually falling apart right now: small pieces of rubble tumbling off like water being shaken from a dog, then larger ones. Oh dear, this was a fine mess. Deciding sticking right next to the falling rubble was obviously not the smartest of ideas, she turned around and bolted as fast as she could as noisy crashing of glass and snapping of timber mingled in the air.

Thankfully, her caution and careful observation had aided her here. She was able to move to a safe distance away in very little time at all, watching the falling building as she caught her breath with a mixed fearful and worried expression on her face. There hadn’t been anyone inside, had there? She certainly hoped not. It had fallen too fast for anyone to try to run out safely. Wait - what was that? Had someone just flown out of the falling building and somehow not been buried under the rubble? That was scientifically impossible!

…Not that she was in any position to talk about ‘scientific impossibilities’, herself.

Looking concernedly at the stranger who had flown out of the building, it seemed to be a rather lost-looking young man. 

“Are you quite alright there? Goodness knows flying out of a falling building like that must have been rough on you.”

Being the altruistic person she was, she couldn’t just ignore someone sitting there in what seemed such a sad manner.