[Abby had been working on her own corner of the Horizon, carving out a space to call her own. But as her creation was very much created in the image of home. It hurt more than it felt comfortable at this moment.]
[So she wandered to see what others were up to, just to get a gauge to what was possible in the impossible. Only to find an old man meditating inside a place you get to by meditating.]
[Abby's mark of The Lovers is stitched into her crop top just over her heart, red on black. With a pair of simple but form fitting jeans dragging low enough to obscure her sneakers. The best element of being here, being in this place, was her clothes being her's. To a degree anyway.]
no subject
[Abby had been working on her own corner of the Horizon, carving out a space to call her own. But as her creation was very much created in the image of home. It hurt more than it felt comfortable at this moment.]
[So she wandered to see what others were up to, just to get a gauge to what was possible in the impossible. Only to find an old man meditating inside a place you get to by meditating.]
[Abby's mark of The Lovers is stitched into her crop top just over her heart, red on black. With a pair of simple but form fitting jeans dragging low enough to obscure her sneakers. The best element of being here, being in this place, was her clothes being her's. To a degree anyway.]