Wren (songbirdcaged) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2015-05-23 20:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2018 [05] may, october august doyle |
Who: Wren & OPEN
Where: The boundaries of the Dog Park (inside or outside, depending on what's easier)
What: Looking for NAME
When: Early afternoon
Despite a slightly anxious but still pretty friendly nature, a desire for company and the ability to literally chat for hours about nothing, Wren was still somewhat hesitant around new people - growing up in a small room with no access to the outside would do that to you. He was further put on the back foot by the fact that most of the people he'd become surrounded by were women; he had no earthly idea how to interact with the female of the species but he'd been trying his best with his usual exuberant enthusiasm that tended to come out when people made smiling faces at him and spoke to him without swearing and gave him presents like the phone he kept on him at all times. He had cried when it had been given to him, even if it was one of the older models and not good for much apart from texting and accessing the Freenet; his big grey eyes had glossed over with fat tears that rolled down his cheeks in complete silence at the idea that anyone would gift him with a present like this.
He'd found it a lot easier to talk to the women after that, once he knew that they didn't seem to mind him being there, but he was still easily overwhelmed and exhausted by so many people after spending so long with just NAME that he had to take a break by himself from time to time. He was good at keeping himself entertained though, always some imaginary world or other for him to follow along, built on anything from clouds to flowers to birds. He wandered out along the borders of the Dog Park, small and barely noticed by the sentries, singing a little to himself absently. He turned to say something to his constant companion and panicked for a split second when he found he was alone until he remembered that they'd been separated for some time. The tears that came now were not those of gratitude - he sobbed to himself for ten minutes or so before he rubbed his face dry with the back of his hand, leaving it dirt- and tear-smeared instead of any kind of clean, and then began looking for his long lost friend as though he'd be there around the corner if he just looked hard enough.
He called out to him now and again, tiny little bleats of the name of the man he loved, not doing very much even if NAME had been around as he was still careful to keep his voice quiet and whispery in case the scary people were around looking for lunch, the sound of his voice just about audible to anyone passing by.