Gwen's head snaps his way with the sharp edge of alarm. This kind of dream is familiar, this sense of warm and yet unwelcoming vision of home where she is always alone. Why isn't she alone?
"...New York?" she answers, despite her reaction lacking the recognition that might un-crease her brow. "Where else?"
Every now and then, her blue-green tinted hair changes style. Longer on one side with purple tips. Loose and chin-length and no undercut. Twisted into a bun, sometimes all of it and sometimes half. Tied into a ponytail, high or low.
Her clothes are static. A dark, baggy hoodie and jeans.
no subject
Gwen's head snaps his way with the sharp edge of alarm. This kind of dream is familiar, this sense of warm and yet unwelcoming vision of home where she is always alone. Why isn't she alone?
"...New York?" she answers, despite her reaction lacking the recognition that might un-crease her brow. "Where else?"
Every now and then, her blue-green tinted hair changes style. Longer on one side with purple tips. Loose and chin-length and no undercut. Twisted into a bun, sometimes all of it and sometimes half. Tied into a ponytail, high or low.
Her clothes are static. A dark, baggy hoodie and jeans.