(Untitled)

[wither_wilt]

Solomon is walking the streets. Hands stuffed deep into his leather jacket's pockets, watching the worn toes of his boots as he makes his way back vaguely toward his apartment.

Well.

How enlightening this has all been.

Comments

[bass_line_blues]

"Hey, man -"

Preston caught his scent a few streets back; he's been hurrying a little to catch up.

[wither_wilt]

"What the fuck, man? What's the point of all this? Anna said the dude was bad news, but what's he got to gain from causing shit?"

Salla shakes his head because he does know, but still.

"It is just all so. Worthless."

[bass_line_blues]

"Speaking as the guy who's ass was set to be the next entree in Chicago's Death and Destruction Special," Preston says, dry, "I'm with you there."

He slows as he comes up next to Salla.

"Still think it doesn't have to be worthless, though. We can turn it around."

[wither_wilt]

"Yeah? Your court idea?"

Salla slows his own long legged jog so they aren't rushing. No shabbles about right now.

"Do you really think you can get these guys a fair trial? Even the image of it? It was a cold attack. Some of the people here will argue once they actually get their hands on physical people that it makes the social structure we've built look weak if we don't."

He makes a face.

[bass_line_blues]

"We don't have proof," Preston points out.

"All we know is that he was with a guy who tried to attack me. Which, first of all, makes me the only known victim, which gives me the right to press charges my way if anyone does, yeah?"

Preston has no compunction about abusing that particular piece of leverage.

"Our social structure is stronger if we can get a fair trial, prove he did it, and then - do whatever - in a way that'll build. Not just tear into fucking pieces."