[ Misato catches the shirt easily with a truncated thanks! and slips it over her head in a practiced motion. ]
You know, the creepy part is how well this fits me.
[ This being the shirt, for one, but also this being the compartment and this place and by extension this entire predicament. The palpable sense of loss is much keener here, the heart that keeps aching for another, it's all familiar but sharper. She doesn't who it is she's pining for (not Kaji, his place is locked away, bolted shut) but she misses them dearly. A sigh, before she slips both feet over the ladder and hops down to land with confidence, even if lacking in grace.
Who is she then? Her hand wraps about the silver cross that hangs about her neck like affirmation, eyes studying Seviilia. ]
no subject
You know, the creepy part is how well this fits me.
[ This being the shirt, for one, but also this being the compartment and this place and by extension this entire predicament. The palpable sense of loss is much keener here, the heart that keeps aching for another, it's all familiar but sharper. She doesn't who it is she's pining for (not Kaji, his place is locked away, bolted shut) but she misses them dearly. A sigh, before she slips both feet over the ladder and hops down to land with confidence, even if lacking in grace.
Who is she then? Her hand wraps about the silver cross that hangs about her neck like affirmation, eyes studying Seviilia. ]
Katsuragi Misato. Misato's fine. [ A friendly enough smile. ] You?