" haa .. looks like i found a familiar face, have i not ? " and a face was all that he was. while he had briefly helped her out before, she hadn't caught his name .. in truth, she hadn't cared to. it felt like the probability was always slim of running into the same person twice in such a large area ; even more so when she often stayed in more isolated areas, or was only out at specific times. the heels of her thigh high boots was audible with each confident step, it being clear that she knew where she was going. " i still owe you one from before. you should let me make it up to you. "

@streunerhund.

𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐃 the need for Gods. For billions of years, they played the role themselves by adjusting the world around them to their benefit. The sheer advancement of their own technology had made them capable deities in a sandbox, the part of mere mortals at the mercy of nature long forgotten over the course of their existence. What place would Gods have among beings that possessed the power to artificially prolong their survival for eons? To create themselves a man-made planet that best suited their needs, and seal it away from rest of the universe before the most modern of societies within it had even figured out the stars? Noel had thought it interesting, to hear the Expellians speak of their Goddess, Tria. How they marveled her might instead of their own. And though their trials and tribulations had yet to make him religious, he cannot help but wonder as he sets foot on a third planet in the span of 48 hours, having only just lost his, whether there are Gods, as they must have a unique sense of humor. Noel has many thoughts, and even more questions, as he gazes into the abyssal crater he has been dropped off beside. And as he ventures away from it with neither a destination nor home, there is one feeling that echoes louder than the rest: He is tired. He has injuries that are still fresh, their pain still sharp, yet to fully scab. What harm is there in resting? It's not as though he will magically come into possession of a destination or a home by resisting exhaustion, foolhardily pushing ahead to get to the bottom of things. Nede will not come back, even if he sleeps. The countless ghosts of his kin will continue to reside there, faceless and silent behind his eyelids, whether he is awake or not. And he will have still survived, despite it all. Noel slows his steps, lowering onto a bench, and smothers a small yawn behind his hand.

He drifts off almost too quickly, oblivious to those who walk past him in the few hours to come, as well as the familiar shadow that later looms over him as the sun begins to settle over the horizon. @streunerhund — nothing to see here, just eepy.

the Underside was rife with trouble. if rumors and warnings from citizens alone weren't enough of a sign, then the scuffle currently spilling out into the street sealed the deal. a scuffle that she was more than willing to lend her assistance to, if only to intervene and put a halt to what was only a rabble of drunken nonsense. but before she could, another figure emerged from their lone post. within moments, both men were on the ground and the crowd which had been cheering the fight on grew silent.

a handful of seconds later, the crowd begins to thin and the men limp away, no doubt to lick at their wounds and grumble until sleep claims them. " You handled them quickly."

@streunerhund