(no subject)
With a battered messenger bag over one shoulder and a notebook clutched to her chest, a tallish and deathly pale girl with long, black hair hurriedly rushes into the Nexus. Her name is Shilo Wallace, and she's rummaging through her bag as if looking for something, so she doesn't realize she's left home at all. But when she finally looks up, she sees that she isn't in her familiar room. Or in her house. And this confuses her greatly.
She stops in her tracks and settles on looking through her bag a bit more, huffing in an annoyed manner as she curses her forgetfulness. Her wallet was there after all. That was good. At least she didn't need to check her room again - not like she would know how to actually get back there at the moment, anyway.
And look. There's a sign. This place definitely doesn't look like the city outside her bedroom window. She doesn't remember it being there before - and, believe her, she's looked.
"What was it like..." she begins, carefully thinking of her words. "Leaving home the first time. How did you prepare?"
This is a rather open-ended question.
She stops in her tracks and settles on looking through her bag a bit more, huffing in an annoyed manner as she curses her forgetfulness. Her wallet was there after all. That was good. At least she didn't need to check her room again - not like she would know how to actually get back there at the moment, anyway.
And look. There's a sign. This place definitely doesn't look like the city outside her bedroom window. She doesn't remember it being there before - and, believe her, she's looked.
"What was it like..." she begins, carefully thinking of her words. "Leaving home the first time. How did you prepare?"
This is a rather open-ended question.