hanamoron:
An unfortunate fact of life was that nobody ever bothered to ask Yosuke what he wanted, ever. He was pretty sure that he’d dealt with enough supernatural stuff in the past year that if someone were to ask him, “Hey, do you want to suddenly wake up in the middle of god even knows where with no idea where you’re supposed to be going or what you’re supposed to be doing?,” he’d probably settle with a resounding no. A little urban exploration wasn’t what he had in mind the last time he’d said he wanted something exciting to happen already. In his annoyance (or just a general desire to prove to himself that he wasn’t lost at all and he was perfectly okay with being… well, lost, really) he had folded his arms across his chest and made his way towards the east end of the strange island-turned-home, where the Gilneas Forest stretched across the land.
Forests weren’t things he had dealt with before, unless you counted the numerous hours spent rescuing pretty princesses and damsels in distress across an entire collection of outdated video games, but even with his complete obliviousness to what exactly was going on, wandering through the massses of tall trees wasn’t anywhere near as difficult as dungeon crawling had been, on either side of the television screen—
Snap.
“Huh?” Down at his feet, a loop of rope caught around his leg, and Yosuke tripped forward, just in time to feel himself lifted by his ankle off the ground. “Whoa—!”
A trap, no doubt set by someone who was as excited by the idea of spending all of their precious free time in the middle of a bunch of dreary, creepy looking trees as he was. Great. What sort of maniac set up something like that right where someone could walk into it, anyway? Now, the brunette was left hanging by a branch with his mouth open and a drawn-out, undignified groan filling the eerie silence that just seemed to laugh at the situation, his hands holding his jacket and shirt in place before they had a chance to fall over his eyes.
“Dammit…” He shook his leg back and forth against the binds as best he could at such an awkward angle, and swung about pathetically with gritted teeth. If he could rack up enough momentum to break the branch that held him hostage, he would feel a lot less embarrassed — but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen anytime soon. The teenager’s shoulders slumped (or raised, depending on how you looked at it), and his eyes scoured the clearing for any signs that he wasn’t the only one loitering around, appropriately stuck in a glare, as he breathed a heavy sigh. ”Hey, anybody out there? I could really use a hand right about now!”
Shoma, once again, didn’t understand the turn of events that had grabbed his life by the balls and twisted ‘em, but it was apparent that he didn’t have much of a choice right now, whether he understood it or not. Deeeeestiny. Things were explained previously and he was doing well enough on his own since, but every other second of the day his mind wandered to his siblings and their well-being (because he had yet to meet them here, rip). On the outside, he was doing fine as ever, but the internal struggle that came with being the useless waifu of the group had only left him feeling more despondent than ever. Which was alright, really. At least he didn’t have to fake smiles and engage in pleasentries with anyone anymore. It was just he and his penguin-shaped shadow.
…Still, daily the rituals of cleaning, cooking and homemaking as a whole were practiced, even as it seemed impossible to make his hut sparkle and he had a tendency to cook too much (and for some reason, his craphole seemed even crappier as of late). Failing left and right: the unmei.
He was on his way back to his depleted village with a yellow towel in hand, something he’d just retrieved from Polis, when he heard a noise — something… someone yelling. He couldn’t make it out, but it frightened him in place. This weird demension, whatever it was, spawned some creepy animals (and people, but that was another story) and he was trying to calculate whether or not he would be able to sprint all the way to his humble abode from here without having to stop when his companion decided to slip from it’s perch at his shoulder with resolved ‘kyu’.
It wasn’t until his arrival here that he really bothered paying attention to his penguin. Sometimes he found himself following it around, whether it’s target was a few unsuspecting bugs or a lemon stand. Ignoring it most of the time was still practiced, but the percentage had dropped some — probably from 95% ignorage to 75%. Anyway, his brows steeped with concern as the invisible creature waddled towards the more wooded portion of the landscape. He wasn’t worried about it’s health, no, that was stupid. He was more worried about what the hell it was being drawn to after that creepy noise. It was probably just a bug, as usual, and he would tag along as soon as his legs regained feeling…
Which wasn’t until after the gumdrop-shaped bird was out of sight.
“W…wait a minute, would you!” That cloth was squeezed, and he gave chase. It had to be a bug, or another animal, maybe even a leaf..mushrooms. Something like that. Because when any of their penguins were drawn to anything special, it was usually bad news. He was just overthinking things due to that yelling. The same yelling that he had absolutely no interest in or intentions of investigating. “Where did you even go-? What a pain…” Penguins shouldn’t be able to move this fast. Especially not on land. Especially his. Something that could eat it’s own weight a billion times over in one single day really had no business living in the same era as he, be it in Tokyo or this weird planet.
For a bit, he was progressing along on gut instinct, despite nearly pissing himself each time a twig snapped underfoot or the breeze rustled a bush; if one were to ask what in the hell he was even bothering with this if he were ready to faint at every little noise, he wouldn’t have had an answer to give. His penguin would simply return to him later if he decided to head home, right? And yet…
Blame it on advanced depression and expanding carelessness, or more lightly, Takakura-original stupidity. A flash of blue reinstated some courage, and fear subsided, briefly. “Whatever you’re looking for isn’t in here!”
Running about on a flat surface was dangerous for a Bluebro; he really ought to live in a bubble and be done with it, so running around in a forest with all sorts of upturned roots, thorny plants and poisonous flowers really should have been forbidden. Instead of considering all of those things, as he would have if this were a normal, calm situation, Shoma was running for where he’d last seen his penguin when—
Oof.
Not an upturned root, but a log. Shoma failed to notice a log that ought’a have been in plain sight. That was the bad news. The good news was that he was still fully conscious for once, but when he lifted his head from the dirt, there was no penguin (or rather, there was…just to the side, irrelevantly) but instead some kid was hanging there a few feet away by his foot.
……
Was he supposed to scream? He kinda felt like it, but he didn’t look very scary. It was just the shock of looking up and seeing some guy dangling by a thread that freaked him out. Instead of doing anything too dramatic, he just gaped at the boy with an incessantly ample gaze.
”..U..hhmm…”
