[Not everyone has been blessed with a chance to stay home. When everything started getting all out of control, Sunny was distant from the apartments and in his fragile mental state? It didn't take long for the corruption to sink in. People may have seen him as the kind but silent kid living alone in an apartment, rarely leaving unless needed and rarely socializing but... most of Sunny has been erased for now.
As he lies in wait in the middle of his cocoon, almost unaware of where he is or what he's doing, Sunny is no longer himself. He's a monochromatic version of the fragile kid, with red eyes and hands. And he's with his friends, having a picnic and having fun. Or, well, they were all having fun and being loud, he was merely there, trying to hold back a certain kid with a basketball from play-fighting with the only young girl of the group. They kept toasting each other, heh.
It felt... nice.
He wanted to stay with them forever. Part of him whispered 'especially with one of them', but he didn't care enough to listen to it. No, he ws content as long as he wasn't alone.
For anyone coming from the outside, tough? The world would warp once entered 'Omori's field of influence. Colors would drain until the world was merely black with red lights barely making the place visible. Buildings were distorted, bending on each other like hey were tubes spinning around unaffected by gravity. The floor itself would feel weird and unpleasant to walk on, cracking and moving like it was made with countless paper pieces folded on each other but without real structure.
The closer they got to Omori's spot, the louder a weird background music would grow, like it was some kind of videogame. Bunnies would bounce around, creatures of weird shapes would dance around and the paper at anyone's feet would change, slowly turning into elaborate origami recreating grass. In the middle of all that? Illuminated by lampposts placed in circle and blessed with pale flickering lights?
A picnic blanket and the kid. In the company of five plushies. One, with teal hair, laid stabbed countless times on the ground, melon bits and cotton all around it. The others? Purple, familiar? All five of them were sitting around the twelve years old. He seemed busy spreading jam on the face of the peluche with the checkered shirt, but as soon as he spotted someone else? He got up, still holding the stuffed 'friend' and turning around the invasor. One of the many monsters he fought in headspace, no doubts. Even if his party required rest, he was never going to let anyone touch his gang.]
. . .
[Not a word was spoken as the knife was raised in Bakugou's direction. If the strange furry creature he was currently seeing wanted a fight... Omori was going to deliver.]
Wildcard - Boss Battle time.
As he lies in wait in the middle of his cocoon, almost unaware of where he is or what he's doing, Sunny is no longer himself. He's a monochromatic version of the fragile kid, with red eyes and hands. And he's with his friends, having a picnic and having fun. Or, well, they were all having fun and being loud, he was merely there, trying to hold back a certain kid with a basketball from play-fighting with the only young girl of the group. They kept toasting each other, heh.
It felt... nice.
He wanted to stay with them forever. Part of him whispered 'especially with one of them', but he didn't care enough to listen to it. No, he ws content as long as he wasn't alone.
For anyone coming from the outside, tough? The world would warp once entered 'Omori's field of influence. Colors would drain until the world was merely black with red lights barely making the place visible. Buildings were distorted, bending on each other like hey were tubes spinning around unaffected by gravity. The floor itself would feel weird and unpleasant to walk on, cracking and moving like it was made with countless paper pieces folded on each other but without real structure.
The closer they got to Omori's spot, the louder a weird background music would grow, like it was some kind of videogame. Bunnies would bounce around, creatures of weird shapes would dance around and the paper at anyone's feet would change, slowly turning into elaborate origami recreating grass. In the middle of all that? Illuminated by lampposts placed in circle and blessed with pale flickering lights?
A picnic blanket and the kid. In the company of five plushies. One, with teal hair, laid stabbed countless times on the ground, melon bits and cotton all around it. The others? Purple, familiar? All five of them were sitting around the twelve years old. He seemed busy spreading jam on the face of the peluche with the checkered shirt, but as soon as he spotted someone else? He got up, still holding the stuffed 'friend' and turning around the invasor. One of the many monsters he fought in headspace, no doubts. Even if his party required rest, he was never going to let anyone touch his gang.]
. . .
[Not a word was spoken as the knife was raised in Bakugou's direction. If the strange furry creature he was currently seeing wanted a fight... Omori was going to deliver.]