Kiyotaka Ishimaru (石丸 清多夏) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ardent) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
route_10652013-06-04 09:08 pm
ardent) wrote in route_10652013-06-04 09:08 pm
The universe is shaped exactly like the earth -
Who: Mondo Oowada (diamondo); Kiyotaka Ishimaru (ardent)
Where: Goldenrod Radio Tower
When: Evening of June 4th
Summary: Ishimaru has a three-day hole in his memory wherefourth wall last weekend should be; he eventually decides to ask Mondo if he knows what happened, or if he's experiencing the same.
Rating: PG-13, because one of these kids has a filthy mouth (and at least one of the muns sucks at keeping her descriptions clean so that'll likely turn into a hideous disaster at some point).
Log:
As little as Ishimaru liked staying in the Radio Tower, with its underground corridors and lack of windows in places where windows ought to have been if the building were halfway normal and not a base of operations for some sort of criminal organization, there was one striking exception to the rule, one place he actually preferred over most other locations in the city, just because of the simplicity and the beauty of it - namely, the observation deck on the sixth floor, all glass and windows and a view that spreads for what feels forever, given the way things are constructed in this place.
He's been spending a lot of time up here lately; it tends to be quieter up here, after all, and he's had a lot of thoughts that he wants to be alone with. Sometimes he brings the makeshift study-cards he's been constructing to work on up here - he can't completely abandon his education, can he, even if time doesn't pass back home while he's here - but for the most part he's content to just remain near the windows, hands tight on the railing.
He's been doing a bit more of that over the last little while, primarily because the world appears to have lost its mind down there. Or perhaps he's losing his; it's a bit hard to say. But he can't deny the weird...shaking the landscape seems to do, the odd shifting into something distorted just out of his line of vision before snapping back once he finally looks at it fully, and it's making him feel odd and twitchy and yet he can't look away from it. He wonders when it started; he wonders how much else he's missed over the last several days.
He pulls his 'Gear out after a while; he frowns a bit at the message that pops up - apparently this place is still expecting everyone to play Pictionary to communicate anything - and after a moment he just pulls out the stylus and writes something, his handwriting small and ridiculously even. He's a bit disturbed when he realizes he's writing in that common language here rather than Japanese, but he tries not to think about it for too long.
The message is simple and straightforward, however.
If you aren't busy, I need to talk to you about something. Meet me on the sixth floor of the Tower in half an hour - please don't be late.
He sends it after a moment's deliberation, then goes back to those windows; he's not going anywhere.
diamondo); Kiyotaka Ishimaru (ardent)Where: Goldenrod Radio Tower
When: Evening of June 4th
Summary: Ishimaru has a three-day hole in his memory where
Rating: PG-13, because one of these kids has a filthy mouth (and at least one of the muns sucks at keeping her descriptions clean so that'll likely turn into a hideous disaster at some point).
Log:
As little as Ishimaru liked staying in the Radio Tower, with its underground corridors and lack of windows in places where windows ought to have been if the building were halfway normal and not a base of operations for some sort of criminal organization, there was one striking exception to the rule, one place he actually preferred over most other locations in the city, just because of the simplicity and the beauty of it - namely, the observation deck on the sixth floor, all glass and windows and a view that spreads for what feels forever, given the way things are constructed in this place.
He's been spending a lot of time up here lately; it tends to be quieter up here, after all, and he's had a lot of thoughts that he wants to be alone with. Sometimes he brings the makeshift study-cards he's been constructing to work on up here - he can't completely abandon his education, can he, even if time doesn't pass back home while he's here - but for the most part he's content to just remain near the windows, hands tight on the railing.
He's been doing a bit more of that over the last little while, primarily because the world appears to have lost its mind down there. Or perhaps he's losing his; it's a bit hard to say. But he can't deny the weird...shaking the landscape seems to do, the odd shifting into something distorted just out of his line of vision before snapping back once he finally looks at it fully, and it's making him feel odd and twitchy and yet he can't look away from it. He wonders when it started; he wonders how much else he's missed over the last several days.
He pulls his 'Gear out after a while; he frowns a bit at the message that pops up - apparently this place is still expecting everyone to play Pictionary to communicate anything - and after a moment he just pulls out the stylus and writes something, his handwriting small and ridiculously even. He's a bit disturbed when he realizes he's writing in that common language here rather than Japanese, but he tries not to think about it for too long.
The message is simple and straightforward, however.
If you aren't busy, I need to talk to you about something. Meet me on the sixth floor of the Tower in half an hour - please don't be late.
He sends it after a moment's deliberation, then goes back to those windows; he's not going anywhere.
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