(no subject)
So far, it had been a really fucking weird morning.
Which wasn't to say that Mikal was complaining about it, because she wasn't. She'd spend what at least felt like a hell of a long time trying to get things turned around so she could have the mistake reversed and be sent back to life, and while this hadn't been what she had hoped for, she was still alive. That was all that really mattered, and all that ever really would, as far as she could tell. It was hard to wrap her head around, but what she'd seen of the island thus far hadn't been so bad, anyway. What had happened with Zia helped too, of course, but even without him there, the fact remained that she would have been alive again either way. This time, she was going to make the best of it.
She'd headed outside after being shown around, though after some debate, left her backpack back in Zia's room. If what he'd told her was true, and she didn't doubt it was, she was going to need to save the cigarettes and gum she'd bought at the last convenience store they had stopped at. So she'd just been sitting there, weight back on her palms on the cement, in the heat that seemed infinitely preferable to the heat in the afterlife for people who'd committed suicide, when almost out of nowhere, a small dog came bounding up to her, jumping up to rest its front paws on her knees.
"Hey, little guy," she murmured, leaning in with a curious smile to look at it. "Who do you belong to?" As if in response, the dog let out a short, high-pitched bark; at the same time, Mikal noticed what was imprinted on the dog's tag. 'To Mikal,' it said, and nothing else. For a moment, she couldn't make any sense of it -- she had certainly never seen the dog before, after all -- and then she remembered what Zia had said about his guitar just showing up, and she was pretty sure she figured it out. "Guess you're gonna be mine, then, huh?" she asked almost fondly, gently scratching the dog's neck. She could think of worse gifts to get. It seemed like forever since she'd seen her dog back home, and this little one was adorable. This place, she thought, just continued looking up.
[Timed to late morning/early afternoon. Mikal's just arrived and found her NDPD gift, a Russkiy Toy terrier. ST/LT more than welcome, and obviously, as she's not met anyone here yet, absolutely anyone is fine.]
Which wasn't to say that Mikal was complaining about it, because she wasn't. She'd spend what at least felt like a hell of a long time trying to get things turned around so she could have the mistake reversed and be sent back to life, and while this hadn't been what she had hoped for, she was still alive. That was all that really mattered, and all that ever really would, as far as she could tell. It was hard to wrap her head around, but what she'd seen of the island thus far hadn't been so bad, anyway. What had happened with Zia helped too, of course, but even without him there, the fact remained that she would have been alive again either way. This time, she was going to make the best of it.
She'd headed outside after being shown around, though after some debate, left her backpack back in Zia's room. If what he'd told her was true, and she didn't doubt it was, she was going to need to save the cigarettes and gum she'd bought at the last convenience store they had stopped at. So she'd just been sitting there, weight back on her palms on the cement, in the heat that seemed infinitely preferable to the heat in the afterlife for people who'd committed suicide, when almost out of nowhere, a small dog came bounding up to her, jumping up to rest its front paws on her knees.
"Hey, little guy," she murmured, leaning in with a curious smile to look at it. "Who do you belong to?" As if in response, the dog let out a short, high-pitched bark; at the same time, Mikal noticed what was imprinted on the dog's tag. 'To Mikal,' it said, and nothing else. For a moment, she couldn't make any sense of it -- she had certainly never seen the dog before, after all -- and then she remembered what Zia had said about his guitar just showing up, and she was pretty sure she figured it out. "Guess you're gonna be mine, then, huh?" she asked almost fondly, gently scratching the dog's neck. She could think of worse gifts to get. It seemed like forever since she'd seen her dog back home, and this little one was adorable. This place, she thought, just continued looking up.
[Timed to late morning/early afternoon. Mikal's just arrived and found her NDPD gift, a Russkiy Toy terrier. ST/LT more than welcome, and obviously, as she's not met anyone here yet, absolutely anyone is fine.]