[ open post: misaki okusawa ]

[idontcarebear]

the artist reluctantly known as michelle

Comments

[jackedknife]

[Jack doesn't make chase as Misaki bolts in the opposite direction, if only because that reaction was rather common. Being a creepy unknowable cryptid makes it hard to socialize, occasionally. The huge figure just stands ominously in place, eyes like sharp pinpoints in the dark forest, as the sound of the knife being pulled free of his flesh fills the air behind her.]

[Ahead of Misaki was something else, however. A group of motorcycles clustered together. Their lights were dull and orange - dirtied, old, and well-worn incandescent headlights lighting up the street. Their owners were boisterous and talking among each other, trying to get their bearings on finding themselves in an old world they thought destroyed.]

[They looked like they were straight out of a Wasteland festival, clothes and vehicles ragged and spiked to the point of meticulous absurdity.]

[idontcarebear]

[ the sound of jack pulling the knife from his own neck is nauseating, but the men ahead of her are just as terrifying. how, exactly, did she get caught in this situation? this is like something out of a bad yakuza-monster movie mashup. misaki skids to an almost cartoonish stop, staring at the guys on motorcycles, and lets out a choked laugh. this is...the worst???

she realizes she's still holding onto michelle for some reason and abruptly drops the costume, putting up her hands. what are you supposed to do when facing down a motorcycle gang? beg for mercy? misaki hasn't even done anything. ]

A-ah, hah, s-sorry, just took a wrong turn on my way home...