Cold usually doesn't affect him. He is a being of the supernatural, after all - a spirit given form by magic. While he appears human and for a good portion of physiology is human, the chilling temperatures ultimately had little effect. It would take a lot more snow to freeze his true body, and as long as it remained intact he could forge on. Never mind the frost that might be forming on his clothes; that didn't quite matter.
This doesn't even feel like reality, he thinks. The howling blizzard blocks out almost everything, as if a dream - and it certainly tastes like one, too. With his already impaired vision shut down, the city streets became formless. All too often he found himself wandering into walls - often ones he had run into before - or stumbling and losing the mental map that had taken him so long to build.
(What if this isn't real either?)
Ookurikara is missing. And without as much as a single reply from the other's CereVice, he has to do something. Because this is a place intimately built with a lie, and he simply cannot let his best friend fall into that sort of trap.
He doesn't know how long he has been out in this white darkness. It's difficult, even to keep track of time, especially for someone whose timeline has always been fluid - but as he tries to round a corner and runs into it instead, there is something else he now knows. There is someone out there in the snow, a human pinging faintly on his spirit sense radar - or rather, not quite a human, someone with supernatural qualities but not a spirit themselves. They were calling out, too. For what, he can't yet tell, but it doesn't quite matter.
Because hell be damned if he let someone else suffer through this kind of abysmal weather. ]
Hey! Can you hear me?
[ Hopefully the other could, or they might run into each other. ]
wildcard;
[ Throw me anything and I'll roll with it. Or if you'd rather I tag your post, please ping me and I'll see what I can do! ]
no subject
[ It's cold.
Cold usually doesn't affect him. He is a being of the supernatural, after all - a spirit given form by magic. While he appears human and for a good portion of physiology is human, the chilling temperatures ultimately had little effect. It would take a lot more snow to freeze his true body, and as long as it remained intact he could forge on. Never mind the frost that might be forming on his clothes; that didn't quite matter.
This doesn't even feel like reality, he thinks. The howling blizzard blocks out almost everything, as if a dream - and it certainly tastes like one, too. With his already impaired vision shut down, the city streets became formless. All too often he found himself wandering into walls - often ones he had run into before - or stumbling and losing the mental map that had taken him so long to build.
(What if this isn't real either?)
Ookurikara is missing. And without as much as a single reply from the other's CereVice, he has to do something. Because this is a place intimately built with a lie, and he simply cannot let his best friend fall into that sort of trap.
He doesn't know how long he has been out in this white darkness. It's difficult, even to keep track of time, especially for someone whose timeline has always been fluid - but as he tries to round a corner and runs into it instead, there is something else he now knows. There is someone out there in the snow, a human pinging faintly on his spirit sense radar - or rather, not quite a human, someone with supernatural qualities but not a spirit themselves. They were calling out, too. For what, he can't yet tell, but it doesn't quite matter.
Because hell be damned if he let someone else suffer through this kind of abysmal weather. ]
Hey! Can you hear me?
[ Hopefully the other could, or they might run into each other. ]
wildcard;
[ Throw me anything and I'll roll with it. Or if you'd rather I tag your post, please ping me and I'll see what I can do! ]