You're fighting as a soldier on their side
There's been an air of despair in Chicago as of late, clinging to buildings and hanging thick in the air. Even if one has not been directly involved in the affairs of late, they can still feel it. Something is not right.
This has led to Michael Vaughn on yet another run around the city, this time through Grant Park. He's purposely not thinking about much of anything, including where he's going.
Gladys is in the Conrad Hotel basement, very slowly working through her scales on the piano. Her tongue may be poking out of the side of her mouth as she concentrates, but despite all her focus, she's not very good at it. On a chair beside the piano is a stack of cookies and a small sign that reads "Will stop playing if you eat cookies". She's not desperate to lighten the mood in the basement or anything. Nope.
Trinity McFasater is actually a dog at the moment, wandering the back alleys wuffling at trash. It might be a little odd if someone found her. Just maybe.
Chance Adams is approaching people for spare change. She's been pushed aside a couple of times, and things are getting frustrating.
Scout loops in and out of crowds of people, fingering her sad excuses for sleeves as her eyes dart from person to person. She's incredibly tense, visibly so, as she pauses to slump on a street corner and close her eyes, just for a minute.
And finally, Mike McGill figures now would be a good day to start the drinking. Just a little bit. He's settled himself into a seat at a bar and is watching people while he drinks himself into oblivion. (Forget the little bit part completely, he needs to get wasted and forget he's even here.)
This has led to Michael Vaughn on yet another run around the city, this time through Grant Park. He's purposely not thinking about much of anything, including where he's going.
Gladys is in the Conrad Hotel basement, very slowly working through her scales on the piano. Her tongue may be poking out of the side of her mouth as she concentrates, but despite all her focus, she's not very good at it. On a chair beside the piano is a stack of cookies and a small sign that reads "Will stop playing if you eat cookies". She's not desperate to lighten the mood in the basement or anything. Nope.
Trinity McFasater is actually a dog at the moment, wandering the back alleys wuffling at trash. It might be a little odd if someone found her. Just maybe.
Chance Adams is approaching people for spare change. She's been pushed aside a couple of times, and things are getting frustrating.
Scout loops in and out of crowds of people, fingering her sad excuses for sleeves as her eyes dart from person to person. She's incredibly tense, visibly so, as she pauses to slump on a street corner and close her eyes, just for a minute.
And finally, Mike McGill figures now would be a good day to start the drinking. Just a little bit. He's settled himself into a seat at a bar and is watching people while he drinks himself into oblivion. (Forget the little bit part completely, he needs to get wasted and forget he's even here.)