(no subject)
Who: Yosuke Hanamura (innerdiscofrog), and open!
When: Early afternoon.
Where: The market! Home to strange goods and hopefully batteries for a CD player, not that Yosuke has the ivories to pay for some AAs, but hope springs eternal.
Format: Action! Paragraph! Whatever you want. I'm just starting with prose because it seems silly to write huge paragraphs in brackets.
What: Yosuke's feeling antsy and wants to walk, find his friends, find answers, and...no, it's mostly the 'get out of the outworlder block' bit.
Warnings: If Naoto shows up with her entire 'detective agency!' schtick, expect some bickering.
Being stuck in strange places wasn't exactly new to Yosuke at this point, and if he let himself dwell on it he wasn't exactly sure he liked what that implied. He didn't dwell, for obvious reasons.
Ana--...oh, right, Anatole. Anatole kind of reminded him of Inaba, sort of, except with less school and nobody calling him the 'Junes Kid.' Well, not like there was a Junes around, and that struck him as stranger than the fog and that was wrong on oh so many levels.
He walked. He found himself in a market, filled with stalls with all sorts of things: food and cloth and a distinct lack of compatible batteries and CDs. (It looked like he was stuck with 'The Best of Risette!' playing for the foreseeable future.)
"Man," he said to himself as he gazed down at a mango, "I'd kill for a topsicle."
When: Early afternoon.
Where: The market! Home to strange goods and hopefully batteries for a CD player, not that Yosuke has the ivories to pay for some AAs, but hope springs eternal.
Format: Action! Paragraph! Whatever you want. I'm just starting with prose because it seems silly to write huge paragraphs in brackets.
What: Yosuke's feeling antsy and wants to walk, find his friends, find answers, and...no, it's mostly the 'get out of the outworlder block' bit.
Warnings: If Naoto shows up with her entire 'detective agency!' schtick, expect some bickering.
Being stuck in strange places wasn't exactly new to Yosuke at this point, and if he let himself dwell on it he wasn't exactly sure he liked what that implied. He didn't dwell, for obvious reasons.
Ana--...oh, right, Anatole. Anatole kind of reminded him of Inaba, sort of, except with less school and nobody calling him the 'Junes Kid.' Well, not like there was a Junes around, and that struck him as stranger than the fog and that was wrong on oh so many levels.
He walked. He found himself in a market, filled with stalls with all sorts of things: food and cloth and a distinct lack of compatible batteries and CDs. (It looked like he was stuck with 'The Best of Risette!' playing for the foreseeable future.)
"Man," he said to himself as he gazed down at a mango, "I'd kill for a topsicle."