Location: Alphonse’s Bedroom → Building 1 Cafeteria|| Interactions: Max @LupusIntus, Iris @BunniesOfDoom
Time: Late Afternoon
The moth sat up with a start. A cold chill had seeped into his room, the familiar feeling causing a surge of nostalgia to hit him like a truck. Eyes swarmed, almost desperate, around the room only to land on a single black rose sitting inside of a thin clear vase. ”Death,” one of Alphonse’s four arms came up to grip at his chest, directly over his heart. His creator hadn’t even bothered to wake him or come to him in a dream. Busy, perhaps? Too busy to even…
Standing up, Alphonse moved to the flower, staring at it. Reaching tentative hand, he felt the silky petals beneath his fingers, a sigh coming from him. Perhaps next time Death was around, they could have a nice chat. About old times. New times? About…anything at all.
It was hard to admit there was a pang of longing in his chest. Death was his creator - his father and mother. Was it too much to ask for a simple verbal hello?
“Get yourself together, Alphonse,” two hands drew up towards his face, rubbing over it, trying to reset his thoughts. Dressing himself in a fresh pair of clothes, the mothman folded wings delicately against his back, and stepped out of his room into the hall. Being alone, right now, maybe wasn’t the best thing for him to do. Maybe, for once, he should go and find comfort in the revelry of others. If Death had come by, after all, there might be someone in the complex who needed someone to talk to. Someone who might have been a bit more intimate with Death.
Checking the Cafeteria in building 2 first, he didn’t figure anyone would be here; building 1’s food service hall was much more frequented, after all. Moving outside the building, Alphonse directed his compound eyes up to the sky, the sun almost finally set for the day. It would be a lovely night, one where a walk around the grounds would be very refreshing.
Taking the direct route to the first residential building, Alphonse stepped inside and paid no mind to the minotaur behind the counter. A quick glance at the corkboard in reception caused his steps to falter; a few new bulletins caught his eye, drawing him to the board with a few swift movements. Scanning over each and every one, giving them the dedication that all deserved, one caused him pause. Shoggoth Therapy? It was an interesting, if not extraordinary idea. A monster offering up therapy to other monsters, in the comfort of their own Umbra Rose Condos; therapy was something that Alphonse had never even thought twice about, but with the option actually available to him. Perhaps he’d have to meet this Al-Azif.
Making a quick note of the other bulletins, Alphonse backtracked away from the board, and finally swept his eyes over the rest of the room. A lone woman caught his gaze (had she been here when he arrived? He wasn’t sure.); he recognized her vaguely, knowing that she lived on the first floor of the same building, and her name came to him immediately; Iris. A strong flower, that, one that stood for faith, courage, compassion, hope and wisdom among other things. Vibrant and bright, they were one of Alphonse’s many favorite flowers (although he had too many to count).
“Good evening, Iris,” he wasn’t far behind her as he made his way towards the cafeteria. Maybe they could go in together. He could even hold the door open for her, like the gentlemen he was. He could even hold the door open for Max, the human coming into view as Alphonse drew closer to the cafeteria, but only if he was fast enough.
Standing up, Alphonse moved to the flower, staring at it. Reaching tentative hand, he felt the silky petals beneath his fingers, a sigh coming from him. Perhaps next time Death was around, they could have a nice chat. About old times. New times? About…anything at all.
It was hard to admit there was a pang of longing in his chest. Death was his creator - his father and mother. Was it too much to ask for a simple verbal hello?
“Get yourself together, Alphonse,” two hands drew up towards his face, rubbing over it, trying to reset his thoughts. Dressing himself in a fresh pair of clothes, the mothman folded wings delicately against his back, and stepped out of his room into the hall. Being alone, right now, maybe wasn’t the best thing for him to do. Maybe, for once, he should go and find comfort in the revelry of others. If Death had come by, after all, there might be someone in the complex who needed someone to talk to. Someone who might have been a bit more intimate with Death.
Checking the Cafeteria in building 2 first, he didn’t figure anyone would be here; building 1’s food service hall was much more frequented, after all. Moving outside the building, Alphonse directed his compound eyes up to the sky, the sun almost finally set for the day. It would be a lovely night, one where a walk around the grounds would be very refreshing.
Taking the direct route to the first residential building, Alphonse stepped inside and paid no mind to the minotaur behind the counter. A quick glance at the corkboard in reception caused his steps to falter; a few new bulletins caught his eye, drawing him to the board with a few swift movements. Scanning over each and every one, giving them the dedication that all deserved, one caused him pause. Shoggoth Therapy? It was an interesting, if not extraordinary idea. A monster offering up therapy to other monsters, in the comfort of their own Umbra Rose Condos; therapy was something that Alphonse had never even thought twice about, but with the option actually available to him. Perhaps he’d have to meet this Al-Azif.
Making a quick note of the other bulletins, Alphonse backtracked away from the board, and finally swept his eyes over the rest of the room. A lone woman caught his gaze (had she been here when he arrived? He wasn’t sure.); he recognized her vaguely, knowing that she lived on the first floor of the same building, and her name came to him immediately; Iris. A strong flower, that, one that stood for faith, courage, compassion, hope and wisdom among other things. Vibrant and bright, they were one of Alphonse’s many favorite flowers (although he had too many to count).
“Good evening, Iris,” he wasn’t far behind her as he made his way towards the cafeteria. Maybe they could go in together. He could even hold the door open for her, like the gentlemen he was. He could even hold the door open for Max, the human coming into view as Alphonse drew closer to the cafeteria, but only if he was fast enough.