Throw on your brake lights
Characters: failssassin and abaxrpg
When: About an hour after Desmond wakes up in the morgue
Where: Random streets in the city
Open or Closed? OPEN! Come help the poor, cold novice!
Rating/Warnings Language and a novice only wearing a bed sheet?
The shock of waking up in a morgue after a visit to the Underworld hadn't worn off completely on Desmond, even though the young man felt very much alive at the moment. He could feel the cold all too well on his skin, the harshness of the pavement underneath his feet, the way the air burnt his lungs as he took deep breaths. He was jogging in the streets of the city he found himself in, not recognizing anything, though he wasn't entirely surprised by that. The display glass of a clothing shop caught his eyes and he silently made his way to the store, securing the bed sheet he stole at the hospital around his waist.
The grip Desmond has on the linen is tight enough that his knuckles are turning white, but he seemed to manage some ease in his moves. His upper body was covered in goosebumps that hadn't gone away after he'd been pulled out of the freezer. Trying not to let his teeth clatter together, and failing miserably at that, the former bartender reached the door and pulled it, only to find that it was locked.
"Are you kidding me?" In his exasperation, he tried to pull the door harder, but to no avail. Taking a few steps back, he looked at the front side of the shop, trying to find a way in from the rooftop. Even though it would mean him climbing the wall with his bare feet and a sheet covering him. With his luck, he would lose the clothe and be stranded there butt naked, wouldn't he? Desmond frowned and gave a look behind his shoulder to check if anyone was around. Well, here went nothing...maybe someone should stop him before he really did embarrassed himself there....
When: About an hour after Desmond wakes up in the morgue
Where: Random streets in the city
Open or Closed? OPEN! Come help the poor, cold novice!
Rating/Warnings Language and a novice only wearing a bed sheet?
The shock of waking up in a morgue after a visit to the Underworld hadn't worn off completely on Desmond, even though the young man felt very much alive at the moment. He could feel the cold all too well on his skin, the harshness of the pavement underneath his feet, the way the air burnt his lungs as he took deep breaths. He was jogging in the streets of the city he found himself in, not recognizing anything, though he wasn't entirely surprised by that. The display glass of a clothing shop caught his eyes and he silently made his way to the store, securing the bed sheet he stole at the hospital around his waist.
The grip Desmond has on the linen is tight enough that his knuckles are turning white, but he seemed to manage some ease in his moves. His upper body was covered in goosebumps that hadn't gone away after he'd been pulled out of the freezer. Trying not to let his teeth clatter together, and failing miserably at that, the former bartender reached the door and pulled it, only to find that it was locked.
"Are you kidding me?" In his exasperation, he tried to pull the door harder, but to no avail. Taking a few steps back, he looked at the front side of the shop, trying to find a way in from the rooftop. Even though it would mean him climbing the wall with his bare feet and a sheet covering him. With his luck, he would lose the clothe and be stranded there butt naked, wouldn't he? Desmond frowned and gave a look behind his shoulder to check if anyone was around. Well, here went nothing...maybe someone should stop him before he really did embarrassed himself there....