#▍˗ˏˋ ✦ isola threads.

[asclepiads-blog]

@moxieandchutzpah​ | ✦

   Is that a... cowboy? Ignoring everything else weird about him ( she’d be liable to probably faint from confusion if she thought about it too hard ) , she accidentally finds herself staring at Reuben remarkably hard with a fistful of blue flowers clutched to her chest. 

   “ ... ” It’s been a while since she’s been alive, she’s always stared at people as a ghost. Please excuse her, she’s not used to people seeing her yet.

[atisutos-blog]

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[asclepiads-blog]

@hailnewfresh​ | ✦

   HOLY SHIT. 

   She can’t deny that she’s seen some weird people since she came in here, but this guy takes the goddamn cake. Rosalia can’t stop herself from looking, tossing caution to the wind with any kind of manners that her father might have tried to teach her. She is INTERESTED in this guy’s appearance, because, wow!

   “ Um, what are you? ” WOW, RUDE. Okay. You can’t just ASK someone that! 

[asclepiads-blog]

@tokeiso​ | ✦

      Uuu... she’s totally lost. Rosalia was trying to familiarize herself with the city streets, but it’s big and she has no sense of direction and she took too many lefts and rights, and now she has absolutely no idea where she is. She almost looks about ready to cry from frustration-- what if she can’t find her way back to the condo?-- before she spots someone who looks about her age. Okay, maybe not all is lost. She approaches.

   “ Um, I... excuse me, but I think I’m lost. ” Her voice is tentative, soft. “ I’m... trying to get back to condo 427... ” That’s pretty much ALL she knows.

[asclepiads-blog]

@hallucinaticns​ | ✦

   It didn’t really process exactly how tired she was until she fell asleep on the couch in the condo rather unceremoniously.

   She slept on her stomach, so all that anyone would see was a sudden mass of mint-green hair and some legs under what looks like a white dress. Who is this. Who’s girls is this. She’s mumbling fitfully in her sleep, and one hand is hanging off of the couch.

[asclepiads-blog]

@caligosum​ | ✦ 

  ... Hey, that girl looks her age! Rosalia blinks a few times as she seems to silently study the other, free hand brushing some of her messy pale mint curls out of her eyes so she can look at the other better.

  Huh. She should probably stop staring, but, like, whatever. She doesn’t really know how to start conversations anymore, but at least she doesn’t look unnerved or disgusted or anything. She looks like she wants to start a conversation! Or she just looks... really, really sad. Pick and choose to your heart’s content.

  ... Something about this girl’s expression... reminds her of her brother. It kind of hurts her chest something awful, grief twisting her heart again.

[asclepiads-blog]

@hosttrick​ | ✦

   Oh my god.

   Is that guy dead?

   Rosalia was just walking down the street, and, like... there’s a guy lying here. She crouches down next to him, and gently nudges him with her hand.

   “ ... Hey... ” Oh my god, he’s really dead. He’s stiff. Her heart drops, and she looks like she’s about to cry. Her hand goes to lock with her other hand, and she pauses, fiddling with a leaf on one of the blue milkweed flowers. She can’t just leave him like this. She needs to go find someone, tell him this guy died. But... she should do something. Something so that his body isn’t lying here all alone.

   ... Rosalia gently places the blue flowers on his chest. That’s good enough for now. Then she can find someone who can find out how he died and why, and give him a proper burial. But she just stares sadly at this man for a moment.

[asclepiads-blog]

@duetroll​ | ✦

   Rosalia is sitting on a bench by herself, delicately weaving the blue asclepias flowers she’d picked up earlier into a chain. Looks like she’s making a flower crown of some sort? That’s cute, but on further inspection, it kind of looks like she’s mumbling to herself. 

   In reality, she’s just trying to get used to using her voice again. She’s not really saying anything meaningful, just words and phrases and names that come to mind, and she’s speaking very quietly, but, like, still. Why are you talking to yourself, Rosalia. For the love of god.

[asclepiads-blog]

@shecommander​ | ✦

   So this is where she’s going to be living, huh? Rosalia carefully opens the door to condo 427, looking around tentatively and just... taking everything in. She takes a single step inside, wringing her hands anxiously as she silently memorizes the layout. Okay. Okay. She’s going to be staying here. Is there anyone else here...?

   “ Hello? ” God, she’s not used to actually being able to say real words. It comes out kind of strangled.

[asclepiads-blog]

@command-medli​ | ✦

   Bird.    Bird?    Bird.    This girl either has a really weird mask or that thing is part of her face, and both are entirely plausible now that she stops to think about it. This is bird. She’s looking at a bird? But also a person? If this was a cartoon, she’d have a bubble-letter question mark hovering above her head right about now.

   ... And she’s staring again. Rosalia, use your words! You can actually use them now!

[asclepiads-blog]

@sympnia​ | ✦

     “ Ah-- ! ” 

    Oh no, no, no, no.

    Rosalia had been walking down the street when she had unceremoniously tripped over an uneven rise of sidewalk, and had skinned her knee pretty badly.

    She scrambles to prop herself up and pulls her dress back, and there’s a pretty steady trickle of blood running down her leg. Instead of looking pained, though, she looks absolutely panicked. This is bad. This is very, very bad. This is literally the epitome of bad, and she has no idea how to get it to stop, so she just claps her palm over the wound, damn the pain.

    “ Oh no, no, no, no...! ”