PC: Denji

[overlimit]

Comments

[overlimit]

I was five when she died. Some of the researchers in town brought me food now and then, so I guess I had some help... if you can call it that.

[sawboned]

But mostly they just looked sad at you, yeah?

[overlimit]

Some of them. I think most of them didn't really look at me at all.

[sawboned]

Prob'ly better.

Most of the people who paid attention to me afterward wanted to make me do crap for 'em. Woulda rather've just been me and Pochita on our own.

You have a buddy like that?

[overlimit]

Growing up, it was just me and...

...the blastia.

[it comes out as a mutter.]

[sawboned]

Hm? Who's that?

[overlimit]

They're... sort of like devices used to perform magic. Their cores look like gemstones. Like this. [she gestures to the red-jeweled choker on her neck.]

[yeah, rita's childhood friends are rocks.]

[sawboned]

[no rita that is very sad]

[Denji leans in to takes a look at it]

It's pretty. Better'n nothin', right? [and sometimes even nothing is better than the alternative]

Help me carry these back to the apartments. [he scoops up an armful of log pieces]

[overlimit]

[... she definitely expected to get made fun of for that.]


H, hey, I didn't agree to any heavy lifting!

[sawboned]

You look plenty strong, don't worry. I believe in you.

B'sides, all this thinkin' about the past is making my head hot. Helps to focus on somethin' else like carrying some wood around. Smells nice, too.

[overlimit]

So what, this is some kind of coping mechanism? Ugh...

Whatever, I guess I'm going that way, anyway.

[she can't carry much, but she picks up a few.]

[sawboned]

[and off they walk, moon rising, hunks of wood in hand, each to their own separate shitty thoughts]