Our Lady of Fandom; The Graveyard; Wee Hours of the Night, Sunday.
...Like Rosette could sleep after all that. She'd given it an honest try, she was drained from summoning Chrono, but Rizelle's last words were echoing in her head and preventing her from sleeping. Not wanting to disturb anyone else who was camping out inside that night, she slipped out as quietly as she could and started wandering through the graveyard. She paused, leaning with an exhausted sigh against a tall headstone. Her eyes drifted for a moment toward the crypt with the side blown out of it from Chrono's escape and sighed again. She lowered her head as a hard lump formed in her throat, and she brought up her hand, unwraveled her fist and took the crumpled photograph clutched within. She turned, sniffing, smoothing it out on the hard surface of the headstone.
Damn it.
There was Joshua. The photograph looked like it had been taken without his knowledge, and he was definately older than when she last saw him. But it was definately him. Rizelle...knew Joshua. She said Rosette should better hurry, before it took over. What was it? WHAT WAS IT?
She dropped her head against the headstone, her arm settled between it and the photograph. She punched at it, as if stabbing, and let out a strangled gasp.
...Screw it. She was crying. She couldn't help it. Not this time...
[[ for a certain late stalker. happens after Radio, but marking as NFB all the same ]]
Damn it.
There was Joshua. The photograph looked like it had been taken without his knowledge, and he was definately older than when she last saw him. But it was definately him. Rizelle...knew Joshua. She said Rosette should better hurry, before it took over. What was it? WHAT WAS IT?
She dropped her head against the headstone, her arm settled between it and the photograph. She punched at it, as if stabbing, and let out a strangled gasp.
...Screw it. She was crying. She couldn't help it. Not this time...
[[ for a certain late stalker. happens after Radio, but marking as NFB all the same ]]