blue, murk
she/her
twenty-seven
october 29
goldenrod city, johto
grey-ace
lost dog (defector?)
executive
death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit.
TAG WITH @blue
blue murtagh
how i learned to love the bomb
POSTED ON Aug 20, 2024 16:11:26 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","ambrosia blue"] [attr="class","textbox"] The sound of the front door snapping shut harshly pulled her from her slumber. Red eyes squinted open, though she didn’t fully register where she was at first. Right. She’d gone to Shinra’s and put on a movie. It had ended, the screen reverting to a loop of trailers for the streaming platform’s new shows and releases. She shut her eyes against the blue light of the television.[break][break] But then her attention shifted to the sound of someone shuffling through the space, all of it familiar and practiced. Though perhaps a little more agitated than usual. Shinra, her mind supplied. When she rose from where she’d been curled up, though, she realized that he hadn’t stopped to say anything, or even ask when she’d come. Sure, her presence had become more of an expected thing, but surely not that expected.[break][break] She followed the sound. The running tap of hot water in the far bedroom. Bleary-eyed, she sought the source—addled with groggy confusion over the fact that he hadn’t woken her with a greeting. Or maybe he hadn’t noticed her there. Behind her, the little vulpix trotted along, ever present. The heel of her hand rubbed at an eye as she yawned and tried to blink the sleep away.[break][break] “Shin..?” It was no more than a sleepy mumble. The warmth of steam blew across her cheeks. Even through the haziness, something felt off. Blue was helpless to interpret it, though. A soft frown tugged at her mouth. “You okay? Is it late?” She didn’t know what time it was. How long had she been asleep? There was no way of really knowing if he’d arrived home at the normal time, or if it was far later than usual. There was a clock on the far wall, but she didn’t squint in an attempt to read it.[break][break] His posture was tense, musculature rigid as he stood facing away. She knew better than to reach out and touch his arm. Knew what she would have done if it were her. Her ears strained, catching the burble of mutters she couldn’t interpret. So she stood there silently, muddled and confused, as she stifled another yawn. [break][break] [attr="class","oocnotes"]
[attr="class","icon-fighting"] im ready but im not ready…
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