YERAY KIRKPATRICK

really sound like a real job, but I promise it is. My "day job" is getting people to talk to those who have passed away, or some other stuff of the sort. ❞

❝ It’s not really that I didn't... ❞ Yeray sighed. ❝ I was just realistic about it. ❞

Poor.
That's what he was trying to say. He couldn't afford college. So he never saw a point in daydreaming about it.

He was lucky enough to get to go to school at all.

❝ I'm a medium. I know, I know, it doesn't+

good at embroidering stuff, that was his tiny artistic streak and he had learnt it in order to make his clothes last longer. He didn’t consider himself creative, though, it was just necessity.

His jeans seemed to be a testament to that.

❝ Cosmetology... That's like, hair and makeup stuff, right? And a lot of chemestry. ❞

He had seen his friends do some less than adviceable chemical mixes trying to do their own hair.

❝ Sounds really cool. I... Never studied anything past High School, not officially at least. ❞

Yeray was pretty +

Do you want the list in chronological or alphabetical order?

Wish I was half as creative. ❞

The reaction almost made him laugh. Was that how Ash felt when she suddenly appeared in front of someone?

No wonder she was always giggling.

If he didn’t it was a mixture of actually having some manners, and being grateful the other tried to make himself easier to understand.

❝ It looks amazing.+

amicable "hi" before continuing with whatever he was doing.

That was changing today.

❝ What are you drawing? ❞ He asked with both hands and voice. Always looking for a chance to take the aids off.

That was probably what he missed most about having his own place: the lack of need for hearing.

afford. Only until then.

He liked his borough, horrible as it was. And so many people depended on him there...

There were things Yeray could do Glitch could not.

And because he hadn’t planned on staying that long, he hadn’t been the most sociable towards Rose, limiting his interactions to an +

Yeray hadn’t planned on staying around this long. Or at all, really. But when your building finally becomes unsafe enough —even by Crime Alley standards— to get torn down... Well, it's not like he had another choice.

He would accept the help and stay around until he found something he could +

read

👻/: It’s honestly not even hard at all

𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣

“𝑺𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒂 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏? 𝑶𝒉, 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂 ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴛɪᴀɴ. 𝑫𝒊𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭…”

#𝙎𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙮

Not really, Ash. By now, we would have looked too different for comparison.

Why is Tim screaming?

I want you to get in bed, take your meds, and sleep until you stop feeling like death.

I can get you pain meds and nice food, but I am not divorcing your soul from your body.

No.

Mood.

Do you want a buscapina?

goodbye before he dissappeared through a wall again.

❝ Not all of patrol is fighting. Not for me, at least. ❞

doing it long before Yeray wore the mask. « Can't believe you still remember that. What a waste of your time, son. »

❝ It’s never a waste! Do you need anything else? ❞

« Not tonight, no. »

❝ See you tomorrow, then. ❞

The man just nodded Yeray a +

didn’t make him flinch.

❝ Good evening, Thomas. ❞ He greeted the old man. Yeray was sure he was younger than he looked.

He sat beside him on the ground, ignoring Eobard for a moment.

❝ Brought you your meds. ❞

« Oh, the little saint! » Yeray hated when Thomas called him that, but he had been +

❝ Not empty. ❞

Yeray's steps picked up speed as he cut corners walking through walls like they were air until he got to the unit he was looking for.

It seemed dilapidated in a different way. Like someone lived, or better said... Survived inside it. Food wrappers, accumulated things. The stench +

My entire body hurts, I need a Tylenol. Or a scalpel.

Sure, sure.

Tim, you need a nap.

👻/: it looks so cool!!!

❝ Not one bit. ❞