[ Their first priority was...snacks. Yes, snacks. They were primarily for the mimics, but they certainly weren't adverse to sharing with friends either. Getting snacks for friends and soon-to-be friends (hopefully) was just one thing they were doing to keep busy.
Their initial target was the cafeteria in Aoba Shibumenosaki, with their choice in storage being an empty pillow case. Honestly, they would have preferred to have something that was a little closer to a bag. Or at least something that resembled a bag more closely. Unfortunately that was the best option without needing spend extra time to get something more fashionable or conventional.
Really, all of that was inconsequential. But it also kept them from letting their mind wander to more upsetting places.
Turing's choices in what to stash away in their bag of loot were largely based on whether the packaging for said snacks managed to catch their eye or not. They really hadn't had the chance to try many foods yet, and while the concept of eating wasn't quite so strange anymore, their interest in it only extended to what they could learn about their own non-simulated tastes instead of the action itself. The act of needing to eat at all was strange enough already, and they had no way of knowing first-hand what tastes just did not go together. So when they saw one of the small jars of honey pickled lemons, they plucked one of the lemon slices out and popped it into their mouth, peel and all. ]
...?!
[ They regretted it immediately, and only their sense of decorum kept them from spitting it out. Is this what it was like to dislike a particular food? ]
[ Turing was now past the point of thinking that their friends were just out and about. For the next couple of days they could be found going from place to place, regardless of the danger or their own personal dislike for large bodies of water. Any attempts to engage at that point would only result in a hurried greeting before they rushed off to their next destination.
Mt. Silver was their last stop. They had rushed into the mountain before when they first arrived, but this time there was no Blue to help them out if they got into a tight spot. Thankfully they weren't going to the summit, but the Hammerhead Citadel Ruins were no less cold. The truth was that they had stayed away from the colder parts of the mountain (being cold was surprisingly unpleasant), so the castle that was hiding there was a surprise, to put it simply.
Turing explored every area with a fine-tooth comb; maybe someone they knew was hiding out here. That was very unlikely, but they were happy to grasp at any straws they could instead of acknowledging a different possibility. Then, they finally stumbled upon the names, both crossed out and not, on the back of that lonely throne. There was only one explanation why they hadn't seen their friends in so long and why those same names were crossed out.
Would people keep disappearing until they were all alone in this place? ]
[ When the feelings were too much, paint them out.
Whether that was a good coping mechanism or not remained to be seen, but that was what Turing was doing. They had set up their easel and paints in a field that was a little out of the way, but not so much that no one would be able to find them without looking. Being too close to a familiar place was a bit too much for them to handle right then. The only company they had was the curled up pidgeycabbit that had followed their dejected march away from the ruins and Mt. Silver, and they were grateful for that. Surely a native of the void wouldn't leave them too, would they?
While they were still sticking with abstract expressionism, some colour themes were...well, not terribly subtle. Black, red, and white. Blue, brown, and white. Light blue, white, and black. Orange, navy blue, and silver. Purple, white, and black.
They let out a sigh, which their companion quickly responded to by settling into a standard cat loaf position next to them. At least their new friend already didn't mind scritches behind the ears. ]
Were you worried about me? I'm okay, really.
[ They were not okay. But being upset made other people upset. ]
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Aoba Shibumenosaki Underground Academy
Their initial target was the cafeteria in Aoba Shibumenosaki, with their choice in storage being an empty pillow case. Honestly, they would have preferred to have something that was a little closer to a bag. Or at least something that resembled a bag more closely. Unfortunately that was the best option without needing spend extra time to get something more fashionable or conventional.
Really, all of that was inconsequential. But it also kept them from letting their mind wander to more upsetting places.
Turing's choices in what to stash away in their bag of loot were largely based on whether the packaging for said snacks managed to catch their eye or not. They really hadn't had the chance to try many foods yet, and while the concept of eating wasn't quite so strange anymore, their interest in it only extended to what they could learn about their own non-simulated tastes instead of the action itself. The act of needing to eat at all was strange enough already, and they had no way of knowing first-hand what tastes just did not go together. So when they saw one of the small jars of honey pickled lemons, they plucked one of the lemon slices out and popped it into their mouth, peel and all. ]
...?!
[ They regretted it immediately, and only their sense of decorum kept them from spitting it out. Is this what it was like to dislike a particular food? ]
This is what Legion likes...?
Hammerhead Citadel Ruins
Mt. Silver was their last stop. They had rushed into the mountain before when they first arrived, but this time there was no Blue to help them out if they got into a tight spot. Thankfully they weren't going to the summit, but the Hammerhead Citadel Ruins were no less cold. The truth was that they had stayed away from the colder parts of the mountain (being cold was surprisingly unpleasant), so the castle that was hiding there was a surprise, to put it simply.
Turing explored every area with a fine-tooth comb; maybe someone they knew was hiding out here. That was very unlikely, but they were happy to grasp at any straws they could instead of acknowledging a different possibility. Then, they finally stumbled upon the names, both crossed out and not, on the back of that lonely throne. There was only one explanation why they hadn't seen their friends in so long and why those same names were crossed out.
Would people keep disappearing until they were all alone in this place? ]
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Outside
Whether that was a good coping mechanism or not remained to be seen, but that was what Turing was doing. They had set up their easel and paints in a field that was a little out of the way, but not so much that no one would be able to find them without looking. Being too close to a familiar place was a bit too much for them to handle right then. The only company they had was the curled up pidgeycabbit that had followed their dejected march away from the ruins and Mt. Silver, and they were grateful for that. Surely a native of the void wouldn't leave them too, would they?
While they were still sticking with abstract expressionism, some colour themes were...well, not terribly subtle. Black, red, and white. Blue, brown, and white. Light blue, white, and black. Orange, navy blue, and silver. Purple, white, and black.
They let out a sigh, which their companion quickly responded to by settling into a standard cat loaf position next to them. At least their new friend already didn't mind scritches behind the ears. ]
Were you worried about me? I'm okay, really.
[ They were not okay. But being upset made other people upset. ]