[ Lottie has made it a point to keep her face, herself, hidden, despite the fact the lot of them are packed so intimately together in this gaudy (is it gaudy? It feels extra, the amount of muck and dirt and lack of good quality air) chamber they're all stuck in. For the most part, she's managed to deal with her Meridian itch by herself, only mildly plagued by her thoughts and a strange sensation twisting at her chest. But after some hours by herself, she can't handle it. Can't stand to stay by her lonesome, so she wanders as quietly she can. As stealthily as she can.
Lottie does not look like herself, looks paler, sicker, more like the self she wakes up to than the one she presents to the world. But at the moment, she only marginally cares. Can only find herself worrying over opinions for a moment before she spots someone familiar, someone she's been vaguely wondering about— Akua. She's looking just as down bad as she does, thank god, but with a more.. Bark-y quality to her? She can't even judge, her own head dappled with flowers that sprinkle pollen down at her every chance, every nudge, they get.
It means her nose is budding red when she hesitantly closes the distance with Akua, unsure of where they stand with all the chaos meddling her thoughts, her perception of herself. She's not even sure if she can (is allowed) to reach out for a hand, just to feel something that isn't her own drying skin (woodening? Is that the word? She'll ponder over this the next time she hides by herself,) and in the end she ambles by her side.
Close enough to let it be known that she wants Akua to know she is there, but far enough to give her the opportunity to not acknowledge her, if she so desires. ]
su-purge-stitions!!
Lottie does not look like herself, looks paler, sicker, more like the self she wakes up to than the one she presents to the world. But at the moment, she only marginally cares. Can only find herself worrying over opinions for a moment before she spots someone familiar, someone she's been vaguely wondering about— Akua. She's looking just as down bad as she does, thank god, but with a more.. Bark-y quality to her? She can't even judge, her own head dappled with flowers that sprinkle pollen down at her every chance, every nudge, they get.
It means her nose is budding red when she hesitantly closes the distance with Akua, unsure of where they stand with all the chaos meddling her thoughts, her perception of herself. She's not even sure if she can (is allowed) to reach out for a hand, just to feel something that isn't her own drying skin (woodening? Is that the word? She'll ponder over this the next time she hides by herself,) and in the end she ambles by her side.
Close enough to let it be known that she wants Akua to know she is there, but far enough to give her the opportunity to not acknowledge her, if she so desires. ]