Mao Mao

Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - [CLOSED]

---

_{Location: PRCU - Western Canada}

The Homecoming Trials #1.111: A Slight Correction

---

_{Interaction(s): Banjo @Hound55}

Previously: Campfire Contrition

Banjo obviously didn't know the difference between a detention center and a prison. And he was plainly speaking in jest. So why, then, did Iñigo feel tense? Perhaps it had something to do with their assumption not only being correct but getting mistaken as an inmate rather quickly. It was somewhat fortunate that some of the teammates had left the campfire site earlier; otherwise, they would have had to deal with more people staring at them. Nevertheless, Iñigo felt the urge to correct Banjo while the opportunity was still there. But they didn't want to straight up revert back to being crude. So they decided not to let their emotions get the better of them. Iñigo cleared his throat and softly said, "I didn't spend time in prison."

"I spent time in a detention center because..." Iñigo sighed, kicking a rock into the fire, and then continued speaking. "... I am undocumented. And before anyone asks, I don't want to talk about it with a bunch of strangers. No offense, but my time there wasn't exactly a pleasant experience worth telling. So yeah... I just going to head for my tent now. See you guys tomorrow. Oh yeah, my power allows me to copy someone's appearance very well, I guess..."

"Or that's what a doctor told me once while getting my inhibitor fitted." Iñigo mumbled before leaving for their tent, suddenly too tired to bid goodnight to everyone. That memory of wearing an inhibitor for the first time was still too raw to relive. From the throbbing headache to the burning in the back of their throat after vomiting for the first time in a long while, those sensations still haunt Iñigo to this very day—even as they arrived at the tent and laid down on the sleeping pad. They pulled out a photo of their family from their pocket and stared at it to find some sort of comfort. But all that did was cause more pain within. Iñigo shoved the photo back into their pocket and closed their eyes shut, hoping to fall fast asleep and forget for a few measly hours in oblivion.

- -|◄ FIRST	-	-	-	◄ PREV || NEXT ►-	-	LATEST ►|

Mass Effect: Harpocrates

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ For such a confidential assignment, one would assume that an interstellar company like ExoGeni would've paid for better bunks. It wasn't like they didn't have the credits to spend. Antelmo Águila-Paiva struggled to get a decent night's sleep due to the relatively small mattress provided to him. So that explained why he was already at the cafeteria when the helmsman announced that they had arrived at their destination: a barren, frozen hellscape known as Faringor. There wasn't much to note about the planet other than it being the location used in the gothic horror classic, Starless. A tiny part of Antelmo had secretly hoped the assignment would take them to the well-preserved sets on the planet's icy surface. Then, the helmsman made sure to mention that Laine was waiting for everyone at operations. Antelmo didn't know what to make out of the other human. Other than the fact that the old man had a closet of secrets for being N7. And that included his time on Anhur during the revolt, undoubtedly laboring for the Alliance and their interests abroad. Nobody with such experience in the art of warfare would've helped some industrial planet out of the kindness of their heart. No, they only got involved because it crippled batarian investments in the long run. Antelmo pondered whether the Alliance would have intervened if the oppressors were turian or asari. But of course, he found out the answer a long time ago. Antelmo made sure to gear up for landfall, examining his rifle and submachine gun to ensure they were ready for action. Then, he changed into simple garments meant to be worn under armor. And by the time he emerged from the armory, the well-worn partisan armor brought forth much-needed color within the vessel. Antelmo arrived just in time to hear the XO complain about never being sent somewhere nice. He made his way over to one of the empty chairs in the room and decided to answer her question in a rather cheeky manner, "I've learned recently that if an assignment involves going to some backwater planet, the pay's higher. But given we're gonna be on the planet used in Starless, our pay will be shit." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ █ BÚHO ARPÍA // SSV SURRENDER // FT. MARIVEA @Starlance // ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Opening up a time capsule was quite honestly more intriguing than drinking up at the local bar. Certainly worth the two-hour bus ride across state lines and the night at a cheap motel. Lucas couldn't remember what his younger self put inside, but it was probably dorky in an adorable way. At least someone else dug it up; otherwise, he would've been volunteered instead (and there was a reason he never joined sports during high school). And when the waiter came back to the table, he quickly asked for a refill of his drink while listening to the chatter. Then CJ asked sarcastically if he remembered what was buried inside the capsule. Her attempt at a killer conversation starter. It was refreshing to see that some things haven't changed at all. Hanna, clearly tipsy from the drinks, vaguely stood up for him against CJ. Lucas appreciated the gesture, but he was more than capable of responding on his own. And that's what he did... sort of. "I'd like to think that my young depressed self won't have put something that nostalgic inside. But quite honestly, I can't remember what I put in the case. So it will be a surprise for everyone, me included." Lucas answered, eagerly waiting for his glass of non-alcoholic goodness to arrive. CJ still had the tendency to strike at the raw nerves of anyone who came across her, which was an everyday occurrence from folks like him. By the time the waiter arrived with his drink, Lucas had taken it and began to drink. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO cheers (drink to that) — rihanna p. johnson's [interior] ▸ interacting with: cj markowitz/@TGM ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - [CLOSED]

---

_{Location: PRCU - Western Canada}

The Homecoming Trials #1.98: Realization

---

_{Interaction(s): Lucille Calder @Roman, Banjo @Hound55}

Previously: A Nice First Meal

It didn't take long before finishing up the second helping of kabab, which was still as delicious as the first. Iñigo was ecstatic for a third serving when they observed Banjo introducing himself to the others. That certainly caught their attention, and they were eager to witness another slaughter. But something in the air changed when he was brought up being an orphan for his whole life. It caused Iñigo to think of their little brother, who was all alone in the foster care system, probably wondering what had happened to his parents and older brother. And it also forced them to reflect on their unwarranted, cruel remark about someone who was only introducing himself to strangers in a rather cheeky (and somewhat obnoxious) manner...

Suddenly, Iñigo lost all interest in having that third serving.

Their mother would've been ashamed if she had seen her oldest son's conduct towards Banjo. He did not deserve to be called an "obnoxious tourist." ¿Por qué soy tan bastardo? Iñigo buried their hands into their face in great shame for their behavior, which was definitely deserving of being flipped off. Hell, they would've done the same exact thing. But realizing how despicable they were acting wasn't going to magically fix such an enormous mistake. Iñigo had to apologize, but they didn't know where to begin. So they sought out some much-needed advice from the faculty advisor, the one person they spent the whole day avoiding. Karma was such a fucking cruel mistress.

As Iñigo approached Jim, the older man held up a hand to Tad, excusing himself from their conversation. Turning to Iñigo, Jim motioned for the student to follow him, walking away from both Tad and the rest of the team.

"What can I do you for, Iñigo?"

Iñigo was admittedly still intimidated by him, given he acted like the guards back at the dentation center. It caused them to struggle with their words, afraid of being subjected to verbal abuse they've been accustomed to. "I... I coul- would like some guidance, sir."

"Oh?" Jim raised an amused eyebrow, clearly Iñigo's attempts to avoid him hadn't gone unnoticed. "What's eatin' at ya?"

Iñigo cleared their throat and answered the question without a second thought. "Well, i-its about owning up to my mistake. I know what I must do; I just don't know how to express it adequately, sir."

"Just don't do it expectin' forgiveness, the most adequate way to express something is to just come out and say it. Ain't no need to make it fancy, just mean your words and be done with it."

"I know that, and I'm not expecting it, sir." Iñigo asserted to the advisor and then kicked a small rock, sending it flying into the woods out of frustration. "I simply want it to be genuine, and the only way that's going to happen is if..."

"Stop dancing around it." Jim folded his arms.

"Respectfully, that's easier said than done in my case." Iñigo said in a solemn tone as he looked down at the ground with a frown. They went quiet, desperately searching for the right words to use. Then, they spoke up after a near minute of silence, their voice full of sadness. "I want to at least have a few days of serenity before everyone else on this island finds out. And that especially includes this team."

"You wouldn't be the first student to arrive here in orange, I doubt you'll be the last either."

Iñigo stared back at Jim, clearly irritated with his words of comfort, as they muttered under their breath, "I wasn't wearing orange, sir." Then, they crossed their arms and hung their head low in defeat. "And that's precisely why I've been keeping it a secret. Most people don't know or care about the difference between detainees and inmates. All they will think of is me wearing that jumpsuit and then wonder what "terrible crimes" I've committed to earn the attire."

"Then don't let them wonder," Jim firmly replied, "Perception is like a ship, if you let the waves guide it, you don't know where you'll end up. You have to take the helm."

Iñigo gave his advice some thought. "I can do that."

"One more thing, Iñigo," Jim said, stopping the student from leaving. Iñigo froze in place out of fear more than respect, slightly afraid of being reprimanded for their tone and attitude earlier. "You know that you can come to me, or Tad, if anyone starts to give you hell about your former attire. Tad's a lot tougher than he looks and a far more sound mind than I. He'll be running this school one day, mark my words."

"I will think about it, s-sir." Iñigo replied and dismissed themselves rather quickly, heading back to the tree to strategize on a plan. But that didn't last long on account of being interrupted. Surprisingly, the person responsible was the woman that vomited in front of Banjo earlier. She invited them over to the campfire, providing the ideal opportunity to join the rest of the group. Way better rather than awkwardly inserting themselves. But rather than introducing themselves right away, Iñigo turned their sights over to Banjo, ready to apologize for their behavior. "Before I introduce myself to everyone, I'd like to say something to Banjo about earlier. We can talk about it here or somewhere more private, whatever you want to do."

- -|◄ FIRST	-	-	-	◄ PREV || NEXT ►-	-	LATEST ►|

OBLIVION

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Hanna was apparently a streamer, according to one of the bartenders who totally didn't just wink at her. And it seemed to be quite successful for her. Good for her. Lucas told himself, genuinely happy for her, while eating yet another breadstick. He made sure to chuckle lightly at her warning, taking no actual offense to it. Even if he didn't quite understand the reference itself. Then, before having a chance to respond to her apology, Hanna excused herself from the table to deal with whatever was transpiring between CJ and Jack at the bar. But that wasn't his business to interfere with, leaving it up to other folks to handle that messy shit. Hanna was doing a better job than he would've ever done in that department. By the time the tray of breadsticks was emptied, Lucas saw that seemingly everyone was returning to the table. And when it came time to toast, he made sure to join it with his drink before taking a sip. Despite already being tipsy, Hanna brought up a good point to the "captain"; what were they doing back in Delton? Lucas would've been very dissatisfied if the only purpose of the reunion was to hang out and have drinks at P.J's. It wasn't like the email included a detailed schedule for the entire weekend. So it wouldn't hurt to ask whether he had wasted his time and money or not. Though he wasn't going to be rude about it. "I'm also curious if there are plans in store besides having a toast at the bar during rush hour." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO liability (reprise) — lorde p. johnson's [interior] ▸ interacting with: ivory williams/@Salsa Verde ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Hanna Whittle seemed to act precisely like the babbler everybody knew from high school. Never did learn when to stop talking or use a filter though. Still, it was good to see that some people never change after graduation. But then, there was Anni Simcox. She appeared to be the same old desperate-to-fit-in mascot everyone either sidestepped or used as a personal punching bag. But underneath that red leather jacket, there was something completely different about her, but it was hard to figure out what changed in five years. Lucas didn't have time to react before more familiar faces started arriving for the main event. So he opted to wait for his drink and breadsticks at the bar before meeting up with everyone. Ivory Williams was still quite a surprise to see lounging at a small town pub, even though she was the one that organized this whole reunion. Nevertheless, it was relatively straightforward to understand the motivations of an old acquaintance. Even if she (and their inner circle) did sorta ghost him after tenth grade. Lucas had long forgiven them for ditching a sinking anchor, making her company— after seven long years—a pleasant sight to behold. And then there was that woman with the lighter, who turned out to be CJ Markowitz. He should've been embarrassed to not have realized soon, but deep down, he was grateful for the brief moment of calm between them with a simple smoke break as complete strangers. But, of course, now he had to actively restrain himself from groaning at her "jokes." When his drink and breadsticks finally arrived at the bar, Lucas made sure to pay for it before taking his seat at the table. "I was waiting for my drink." Lucas finally responded nonchalantly to Hanna, referring to her question earlier. Then, he grabbed a breadstick from the tray and proceeded to eat it. Of course, it was still as mouthwatering as it was five years ago. Lucas took another one and jokingly pointed it at her while finishing his answer, "And my breadsticks, of course." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO liability — lorde p. johnson's [interior] ▸ interacting with: hanna whittle/@Prisk ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

"What made you come back." Lucas was admittedly caught off-guard by the question, not expecting it to come from a stranger. Still, the question was intriguing enough for him to entertain. At first, when that email was sent out, he was stubborn about not attending out of fear. Fear of reliving the dreadful years of adolescence. But then he talked to his therapist about it. They told him to go explaining that it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to resolve... well, everything. From his abusive strict parents to his oppressing time in that shitty high school. So, after much deliberation, Lucas brought a bus ticket to Delton, packed a travel bag, and replied to the email with a simple "will be there" response—all occurring last night in quick succession. Upon using the lighter—the flame dancing along the wind—to lit his cigarette, Lucas had an answer to the woman's question. He inhaled and exhaled the smoke, holding the cigarette with his pointer and middle finger while shrugging nonchalantly as if he didn't spend time pondering on an answer, "Nothing. I doubt anyone, especially my folks, are still eagerly waiting for my return after five years gone." Lucas inhaled and exhaled the smoke again but flicked off the fine gray ash from the tip of the cigarette. Noise from inside the establishment was getting louder, like it was enticing outsiders to come on in. So far, its trance was working on him; but first, he needed to finish. "No, I am doing this for me and me alone. I need to get my shit together and be a better person. And coming here's the first step, or so that's what my therapist told me yesterday." "Although, I have to admit that the breadsticks were a pretty good incentive too." Lucas smirked at the woman, dropped his cigarette butt onto the asphalt, and crushed it with his combat boot. Then he made his way inside and was instantly overwhelmed by the atmosphere. The tightly packed tables exhibited indistinct chatter, the alt-rock playing on the sound system, and the picturesque drinks being served at the bar. It made him thirsty. So he went over to the bartender and placed his order for The Grey Fox (a non-alcoholic drink made with fresh lemon juice, rich earl grey syrup [earl grey tea and sugar], aquafaba, tonic water, and a sprig of lavender) and, of course, breadsticks with spicy marinara sauce. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO pride — american authors parking lot ▸ p. johnson's [interior] interacting with: cj markowitz/@TGM ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Why did I listen to my therapist? Lucas Watson winced in his seat at the sight of the 'Welcome to Delton' sign, surrounded by trimmed shrubs and vibrant flowers. He looked away from the bus window and focused on his phone, trying to suppress unpleasant memories of his upbringing in this miserable small town. The sweet jazz playing through his cheap gas station earphones somewhat kept the thoughts from sneaking up. But, of course, it got worse once the Greyhound bus arrived at Samuell Wells Rest, the bus station on the edge of town. He immediately began recalling that painful day, from the argument with his parents to his abrupt departure on a bus headed for Boston. Lucas made sure the volume for his music was increased to the max. With nothing more than a travel bag sufficed for a straightforward weekend stay, Lucas intended to confirm his reservation at the most affordable hotel in town. That was until he saw a brochure for P. Johnson's on a leaflet display stand. It was pleasantly surprising to find that the brewpub was not only still in business, but also apparently thriving. Their seasoned breadsticks served with a side of dipping sauce was the best thing to come from Delton. Lucas took the brochure, skimmed the menu for new additions, and then decided to stop there for a quick snack. He told himself there was still plenty of time before the cut-off for check-in time at the hotel. After walking for about ten minutes from the bus station, the parking lot was almost full, with several vehicles and a motorcycle parked there. Lucas watched from a distance as townsfolk began making their way inside, an indication that the atmosphere was about to get energized very soon. That made him wonder if he was about to see any familiar faces inside. Or who, if any, would recognize him. Five years had passed, after all. And that made him think about his parents. Were they still living along the coastline? Did they still visit town regularly? What about that damned church? Have they changed in five years? Sadly, Lucas had already known the answers. He needed a smoke, and thankfully someone had a lighter. Lucas made his way over toward the blonde woman, pulling out a cigarette from his cotton jacket. Too distracted with his thoughts to have a closer look at her. "May I borrow a light?" he asked while leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO scott street — phoebe bridgers samuell wells stop▸ p. johnson's [parking lot] interacting with: cj markowitz/@TGM ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Mao Mao's Rambling Concepts

---

CROC

_{GOTHAM OUTSKIRTS}

HOMECOMING PT. 1

---

WIP

---

Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - [CLOSED]

---

_{Location: PRCU - Western Canada}

The Homecoming Trials #1.69: A Nice First Meal

---

_{Interaction(s): Haleigh Crawford @Kuro}

Previously: Owning Up

"It's fine. Let's all just get along, okay? We're supposed to be teammates, not arch-enemies. Teamwork makes the dream work, or whatever the saying is."

It took incredible strength not to roll their eyes at the phrase, which absolutely did not apply to this team. Then, in a pure coincidence that contradicted it, another teammate inserted themselves into the conversation with a cutting remark at Banjo. That earned a brief chuckle from Iñigo, which was immediately concealed with a totally believable coughing fit. And to make matters more hilarious worst, someone threw up at the sight of him. It would've been their breaking point had Haleigh not spoken up about seeking shelter for the coming storm. That caused them to look at the darkening sky, confirming the storm would indeed be that bad. And before long, Jim began talking about something called a "team swap."

But, quite honestly, the delicious-looking kebabs had proven too distracting to listen. Iñigo, who had eaten nothing but prison food for five months, was more than ready to have their first meal out as a "free" person. And when it was time to eat, they were eager to grab the vegan kebabs. Their mouth was watering at the smell of crisp fresh veggies coated in marinade sauce. Of course, it didn't help that the seasoned tofu was a pleasant sight compared to the frozen, packaged bologna sometimes served for dinner at the detention center. Sometimes the meat was distributed beyond its expiration date from the cafeteria, not caring if the detainees got sick the following day. So a simple vegan kabab was practically a five-star meal to Iñigo.

Then, they took a bite.

Under normal circumstances, Iñigo would've been self-conscious about crying in public. But given their tastebuds were overwhelmed by forgotten flavors, they were more than okay with breaking down in front of everyone. Hell, even the smell was starting to overpower their nose. And yet, it did not stop them from savoring the kabab with every bite until there was nothing left on the skewer. It was the best dinner Iñigo had in months, and they wanted to make it clear to the inspiring chief without revealing too much of their past. So they made their way over to Tad, who had just gotten done serving kabab to one of the teammates. "Sorry, we're running low on meat. I could cook up some mor- Oh! A-are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I am." Iñigo replied before reaching for a paper napkin to wipe away the tears on their face and then another one to blow their nose. "Dinner was so delicious it made me cry."

Tad raised an eyebrow, unsure of how to respond to the bizarre compliment. So he settled with a hesitant, "Thank you?"

"Of course." Iñigo smiled with delight, throwing the skewer and napkins into the trash bin beside them. Then they noticed a plate of beef kabab seemingly untouched by the fire. "Yours?"

"No, actually, it belongs to your partner Haleigh" Tad answered and then proceeded to grab the plate, handing it to them. "Since you're here, mind taking it to her, please?"

Iñigo took the plate and replied affirmatively, "Certainly."

And as they were leaving, Iñigo caught a glimpse of Tad walking over to the faculty advisor. Of course, there wasn't any reason for them to worry at that moment. It wasn't like the advisor would just divulge confidential information to a teacher's assistant. Right? Iñigo hastened their pace towards the tent, holding the plate of kebab firmly, before giving their mind a chance to overthink. Upon arriving, they made their presence known to Haleigh by placing the plate beside her. "Better eat it before your food gets cold." But before leaving to grab seconds, they said in a soft tone with a warm smile, "Give me a shout if you need some help with... well, with whatever. I will just be chilling outside while the night's young and calm."

Upon receiving another serving of the vegan kabab, Iñigo sat underneath a tall tree nearby the tree and observed one of the teammates talking about his power close by. But in their case, describing their ability would've been challenging, given nobody (not even themselves) seemed to understand it thoroughly. Hence their preference for showing rather than telling. And besides, they just want to savor their dinner without any further issues for the night. So Iñigo relaxed against the tree and took a bite of the kabab.

- -|◄ FIRST	-	-	-	◄ PREV || NEXT ►-	-	LATEST ►|