aceslow: (14)
Kim Kitsuragi ([personal profile] aceslow) wrote2023-06-14 12:45 am
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IC INBOX [CITY]

INBOX text / audio / video / action "Kitsuragi speaking." art credit code credit
strongroots: (letting me)

[personal profile] strongroots 2023-12-05 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The other sound--a voice, a something; maybe a someone--rises in volume, a gnat to Robby's mom's voice, but it's hard to hear what's being said though the direction comes out the same. An explanation before a shock of cold against skin, and Robby's lips tremble with a breath despite the warning.

Would it be good to open his eyes? If there's something there, if it is a water bottle, then maybe it will be useful: anything's pretty good to throw or smack someone with in close contact, when staying in place so long--this isn't helpful. It's not useful.

Robby reaches, to take the offered item; let his fingers come around and clench it, a sense of security to realise it's not something else. Grasps it, and with a second deliberated, Robby opens his eyes with his gaze down between them, then coming up with a wince as a fluorescent light filters in that wasn't somehow present behind his lids.

Know what also wasn't? ]


...what the hell?

[ ...well, more like a who, with a somehow more confused expression denting further into Robby's already furrowed look. ]
strongroots: (whimsical)

[personal profile] strongroots 2023-12-11 07:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[ His mother's voice is gone. And it's disorienting--it's alarming, the anxiety built from hearing her haunt him not relinquished by the disappearance of her voice. Robby continues to stare at Mister Kitsuragi in confusion, looks over him, and tries to decide what to make of him. How to approach him, even in the face of his own calm and collected route.

Robby glances to the side away from Mister Kitsuragi, and unfortunately, absent of anything else than the curve of the counter wall. ]


... how long have you been here?

[ It's a quiet question, more uncertain than trying to be hushed or secretive. Another quick glance, this time at the bottle, that Robby gingerly lowers to sit on the ground without letting go of it. ]
strongroots: (hoping)

[personal profile] strongroots 2023-12-16 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
A store. [ That much he figured out, said before he seems to look up at where the top of the counter sits, an involuntarily need to confirm it. ] I don't know which one. I was in my apartment. District 1.

[ There's a small beat before each detail, the facts as he knows them--if they could be even called facts. ]

...You saw nothing?
strongroots: (susack)

[personal profile] strongroots 2023-12-22 02:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Robby's mind stalls. There's questions asked, but it's only one that holds his tongue and makes it hard to answer any than an accumulation of both; a point bafflingly repeated that itself needs a response, but--

What is it that you saw? Robby's throat closes, and he looks down from Mister Kitsuragi for longer than it takes for his mouth to finally work, to answer him.

... ]
I-- no, but-- I don't remember walking here. I didn't walk here, [ he fixes. Swallows. ] It got dark, then I saw-- I didn't wanna get close to her. My mom. I know it wasn't real, I didn't wanna get close.

[ His words are rushed, but his voice doesn't rise; backing out of explaining the process entirely, and wanting to get to the point. What he saw, what he was doing. Why he's crouched, hiding behind the counter of a convenience store, and feeling stir in him a ridiculousness doused by an anger that he's here at all. He bites on his bottom lip, and then mutters for nobody but himself: ]

Stupid fucking city.