(no subject)
[The scene is a little misplaced, maybe, the steady foreground of a rural bus-stop set against a lucid background. Kuwabara himself is a solid figure among the occasional figment. For the moment, it's snowing, a show of his own sentimentality. He thinks though, for some reason, that he can feel or smell a rain coming.
He's waiting. He knows that much. While he settles in, he bums a cigarette from a passing phantom because he knows he misses that smell. There's an odd, maybe ominous rumbling as he lights it, but it's not enough to worry about for the moment.
He passes and finally stops to sit on a bench.]
C'mon. Let's go already. Whatever it is I need to see...
[[ooc: Anybody can feel free to hop in, and if you'd like his dreams to read/predict anything about your character, just say the word~]]
He's waiting. He knows that much. While he settles in, he bums a cigarette from a passing phantom because he knows he misses that smell. There's an odd, maybe ominous rumbling as he lights it, but it's not enough to worry about for the moment.
He passes and finally stops to sit on a bench.]
C'mon. Let's go already. Whatever it is I need to see...
[[ooc: Anybody can feel free to hop in, and if you'd like his dreams to read/predict anything about your character, just say the word~]]