42 // [Action]
[He's in the way on your sidewalks...leaning against a wall, standing or sitting. The rich are having a great time in this decade but the poor? Not quite so much. And this is one of the worst sort of the poor. Wild eyed, maddened expression, hunched into a heavy grey overcoat and holding a pageboy cap in hands covered in ratty grey wool fingerless gloves. Amongst all the colour of the time, he's like a ghost.
Walk past him quickly, don't catch his eyes. Pretend he's not there.]
[ooc: Oh jeeeez, crazy human Master. IS THIS MAYBE ILLEGAL? Or, maybe someone wants to tell him why he should GET A JOB BECAUSE HE'S A BUM. I don't know. Have some poor person. Oh SHEESH, THANKS, BRAIN. I reread my last sentence and now I'm singing Close Every Door To Me in my head.]
Walk past him quickly, don't catch his eyes. Pretend he's not there.]
[ooc: Oh jeeeez, crazy human Master. IS THIS MAYBE ILLEGAL? Or, maybe someone wants to tell him why he should GET A JOB BECAUSE HE'S A BUM. I don't know. Have some poor person. Oh SHEESH, THANKS, BRAIN. I reread my last sentence and now I'm singing Close Every Door To Me in my head.]