Duo's made a habit of combing the beach around this time every month. For a bit there, they'd had so many people arriving from their world that it only made sense to do so. And now... now, more people were leaving than arriving, but he could always be hopeful that they would return, at some point, washed up on the beach as he once had. Or at least so he was told, anyway. It wasn't as if he remembered the first time he was here in any sense of the word.
The braided man hadn't really been paying too much attention, checking a face for anything familiar, checking a box as he realizes that they are in fact no one he knows, and moving along a little further down the beach.
At least until Trevor's finger raises in his direction, and Duo's brows raise in question -
Only to fall into a bit of a disgusted scrunch of his nose as the old man vomits seawater instead. Look, he's seen worse in war and mobile suit rubble and all, but puke is still pretty gross. Duo's hand finds the pocket of his jeans, the other hand holding a pair of not very beach-worthy boots. For a kid in paradise... he's still in a sleeveless turtleneck and jeans. Not very beachy attire for the sake of aesthetic.
.. Of course the God of Death is a kid smattered in freckles that barely meets a little over five feet. Of course.
"Uh.... You good, man? That the seawater or you comin' off a good time back in your world?"
00 - Arrival
Duo's made a habit of combing the beach around this time every month. For a bit there, they'd had so many people arriving from their world that it only made sense to do so. And now... now, more people were leaving than arriving, but he could always be hopeful that they would return, at some point, washed up on the beach as he once had. Or at least so he was told, anyway. It wasn't as if he remembered the first time he was here in any sense of the word.
The braided man hadn't really been paying too much attention, checking a face for anything familiar, checking a box as he realizes that they are in fact no one he knows, and moving along a little further down the beach.
At least until Trevor's finger raises in his direction, and Duo's brows raise in question -
Only to fall into a bit of a disgusted scrunch of his nose as the old man vomits seawater instead. Look, he's seen worse in war and mobile suit rubble and all, but puke is still pretty gross. Duo's hand finds the pocket of his jeans, the other hand holding a pair of not very beach-worthy boots. For a kid in paradise... he's still in a sleeveless turtleneck and jeans. Not very beachy attire for the sake of aesthetic.
.. Of course the God of Death is a kid smattered in freckles that barely meets a little over five feet. Of course.
"Uh.... You good, man? That the seawater or you comin' off a good time back in your world?"