[ Wherever the books are, Dokja's not too far from them. After all the time he'd spent in Horos reading books as a distraction and a form of escape, he's back to it now as he steps inside the small store he'd been directed to. He doesn't know what to expect to find here, but anything is better than brooding over his thoughts and what this new world means. The small bead in his pocket gives him some measure of comfort as he rolls it around between his fingers, but it's a comfort that feels artificial.
As he makes his way past shelves after shelves of books, he stops at the sound of a voice. Something about it tickles at the back of his mind, a distant memory that he can't quite place (though that's not so uncommon for him), and he hesitates for a moment, partly out of a strange uncertainty and partly because he's not looking to interact with anyone in this city just yet.
But at the same time, he doesn't want to leave this store empty-handed after coming all this way. He'll just brush right by them, they're clearly in the middle of reading something questionable, and—
... and...
Dokja's thoughts stop there as he rounds the corner and comes face to face with someone he recognizes in an instant, even if that voice had drifted from him. How long has it been since he'd last seen her? Not even the stories contained within that subway had shown her to him, what with her not being one of the characters originally in his favorite story. No, she's someone he had dragged in with him, burdened her in such a way that she had had no choice but to reach inside her to become someone who could survive in a ruined world, and to see her now...
With his breath caught in his throat, he reaches out to brace himself against one of the bookshelves. He feels unsteady, light-headed, like he's not sure if this is real or not as he struggles to find his voice, throat dry while his mouth hangs open uselessly for a second before he manages to choke something out. ]
iib
As he makes his way past shelves after shelves of books, he stops at the sound of a voice. Something about it tickles at the back of his mind, a distant memory that he can't quite place (though that's not so uncommon for him), and he hesitates for a moment, partly out of a strange uncertainty and partly because he's not looking to interact with anyone in this city just yet.
But at the same time, he doesn't want to leave this store empty-handed after coming all this way. He'll just brush right by them, they're clearly in the middle of reading something questionable, and—
... and...
Dokja's thoughts stop there as he rounds the corner and comes face to face with someone he recognizes in an instant, even if that voice had drifted from him. How long has it been since he'd last seen her? Not even the stories contained within that subway had shown her to him, what with her not being one of the characters originally in his favorite story. No, she's someone he had dragged in with him, burdened her in such a way that she had had no choice but to reach inside her to become someone who could survive in a ruined world, and to see her now...
With his breath caught in his throat, he reaches out to brace himself against one of the bookshelves. He feels unsteady, light-headed, like he's not sure if this is real or not as he struggles to find his voice, throat dry while his mouth hangs open uselessly for a second before he manages to choke something out. ]
... Huiwon-ssi.