Who: Manguy aka David aka Jim (
re_formed), OPEN
When: August 31st, morning
Where: a random cafe
Format: prose, past tense to start, but feel free to use what you're most comfortable with
What: David is trying very hard to forget this past weekend. So naturally it'd be great if someone reminded him of it.
Warnings: none (yet)
My name is David Webb. I was born on September 13th, 1970 in Nixa, Missouri. I served in the army. I-
These were facts. They were documented, proven, a list that turned into a history. They defined him. They gave him direction. There was a starting point, and an ending point. There was something to work along.
But not here.
He had almost started, in a way, to feel at home here. Here, he could hold a real job, he could help people without worrying so much about who would end up destroyed. It wasn't like he had much to go back to. Anatole was weird as hell, and extremely dangerous, but it also gave him a chance to become someone better. But if it could take him away... He didn't like that.
David pressed his lips together, directing a look of annoyance out the window he sat near. He had gone for a run earlier, but it hadn't quieted his mind as much as it should have. He took another sip of coffee. He'd go to work soon, hopefully that would focus him better.