So, I tried to be like you~
WHO: Denzel Strife [strongatheart], T-Bag [incestbaby], Kagari [imurvixen], Spider-Man [5pider_man], Poison Ivy [kiss_you_deadly] & OPEN.
WHAT: Funds are low, which means there's no place to go.
WHERE: The Park, but more specifically.. the playground. [Bring on the cliche~]
WHEN: Day 158, evening.
The night was brisk and cold, not so cold that he was shaking in his clothes, but it chilled him to the bone nonetheless. He was numb to it. He had learned to ignore the goosebumps rising on his skin. It wasn't so much of a hassle. Out of mind, out of sight.. wasn't that how it went?
It didn't seem like that was the case in Rivelata, not hardly.
Being on the streets, it wasn't anything new. In a way, this place wasn't so different from the Planet. There was sadness - people who had lost someone, people who couldn't go home, people who didn't want to be alone. There was death, all around, and there wasn't any way to escape it. Like any place, it kept spreading and would not cease. There was happiness too, but mostly, Denzel got the impression that a lot of the people were tired - in more ways than one.
He heaved out a breath into the thick air, watched as a visible streak of steam spilled past his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets. Denzel had been wandering the cobblestone streets for some length of time, he didn't try to keep track.
Except he remembered the sun had been up, hovering low in the horizon when this began and the stars were out now, illuminating the path before him.
Denzel came to a halt in front of the playground. He had been here just days before, meeting with a group of people who wanted to protect and teach children to defend themselves. He had listened but he hadn't bothered socializing. And now here he was again, alone, at night. A whole lot of help that little get together had done.
He was a street kid though, he knew the troubles, he knew when to stay and when to run.
His funds were low, he had spent a few nights at the INN, some in an abandoned building. Denzel started walking again, over on towards the playset. He climbed the steps, fingers trailing over the metallic railing, cold as ice, until he reached the top. He stared off into the darkness for a minute, beyond the trees, before his attention returned to his current situation.
The boy continued over to the slide and sat down at the top of it, sitting horizontally, so his back was leaning on one side and his legs were bent at the knee, drawn towards his chest, sneakers resting against the other side. He wrapped his arms around his legs and set his chin on his knees. Bunched up like that, at least he felt warmer.
WHAT: Funds are low, which means there's no place to go.
WHERE: The Park, but more specifically.. the playground. [Bring on the cliche~]
WHEN: Day 158, evening.
The night was brisk and cold, not so cold that he was shaking in his clothes, but it chilled him to the bone nonetheless. He was numb to it. He had learned to ignore the goosebumps rising on his skin. It wasn't so much of a hassle. Out of mind, out of sight.. wasn't that how it went?
It didn't seem like that was the case in Rivelata, not hardly.
Being on the streets, it wasn't anything new. In a way, this place wasn't so different from the Planet. There was sadness - people who had lost someone, people who couldn't go home, people who didn't want to be alone. There was death, all around, and there wasn't any way to escape it. Like any place, it kept spreading and would not cease. There was happiness too, but mostly, Denzel got the impression that a lot of the people were tired - in more ways than one.
He heaved out a breath into the thick air, watched as a visible streak of steam spilled past his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets. Denzel had been wandering the cobblestone streets for some length of time, he didn't try to keep track.
Except he remembered the sun had been up, hovering low in the horizon when this began and the stars were out now, illuminating the path before him.
Denzel came to a halt in front of the playground. He had been here just days before, meeting with a group of people who wanted to protect and teach children to defend themselves. He had listened but he hadn't bothered socializing. And now here he was again, alone, at night. A whole lot of help that little get together had done.
He was a street kid though, he knew the troubles, he knew when to stay and when to run.
His funds were low, he had spent a few nights at the INN, some in an abandoned building. Denzel started walking again, over on towards the playset. He climbed the steps, fingers trailing over the metallic railing, cold as ice, until he reached the top. He stared off into the darkness for a minute, beyond the trees, before his attention returned to his current situation.
The boy continued over to the slide and sat down at the top of it, sitting horizontally, so his back was leaning on one side and his legs were bent at the knee, drawn towards his chest, sneakers resting against the other side. He wrapped his arms around his legs and set his chin on his knees. Bunched up like that, at least he felt warmer.