⌈ how to survive in the nightlife ⌋
characters: The Grey General, open.
location: Solace streets and alleys, not too far from the parked airship.
time: Late evening?
rating: W. For wtf.
open/closed: Very much open, feel free to hop in with prose or action.
summary: Those odd shadows seem to be converging at one place and taking a form of their own.
The shadows crept along the newly built city's walls, moving almost too quickly to catch the eye of any trained soldier or curious civilian. Perhaps if one had done nothing but stare at the buildings all the live long day, a quick, black flicker might've been caught from the corner of their eyes. But that was all it was, for the moment. A flicker.
Speeding along, the shadows found an empty street, and crept into a darkened abandoned alley. They stretched along the ground, littered with shrapnel from old buildings and supplies for the new. Pooling in the center, they rose up, a swirling mass of blackness before shifting into a more than familiar form.
Just as quickly as it appeared, the black shadows vanished, leaving in their place someone been thought to be long forgotten by now and in just the same condition as he'd left, bloodstained uniform and dirtied bandages wrapped loosely around what had been the fatal wound to his neck. The man staggered for a moment, breathing heavy, because holy controlling those things took way more effort than he'd thought. Believing his balance to be regained after a moment of steadying himself, a quick glance around at his unfamiliar surroundings made him frown in disapproval. Building their own city in place of his. Bastards.
Of course, his first step forward sent him straight to the ground in a resounding oof. Apparently, getting accustomed to life again was going to be more of a hassle than previously expected.
Standing upright with a fair amount of effort, sounds of footsteps from the streets were his cue to book it. He took off down the alley, keeping to the back streets to remain hidden from the soldiers who would be less than happy to see him again. Not that he wasn't unarmed, of course. But still. There were priorities to be seen to first.
Occasionally, he would move back up an empty alley, mostly hidden by the building's own shadow as activity in the streets passed by. He was looking for specific someones, but any familiar face would be a sight for formerly empty eyes. Whether familiar was friendly, or not.
location: Solace streets and alleys, not too far from the parked airship.
time: Late evening?
rating: W. For wtf.
open/closed: Very much open, feel free to hop in with prose or action.
summary: Those odd shadows seem to be converging at one place and taking a form of their own.
The shadows crept along the newly built city's walls, moving almost too quickly to catch the eye of any trained soldier or curious civilian. Perhaps if one had done nothing but stare at the buildings all the live long day, a quick, black flicker might've been caught from the corner of their eyes. But that was all it was, for the moment. A flicker.
Speeding along, the shadows found an empty street, and crept into a darkened abandoned alley. They stretched along the ground, littered with shrapnel from old buildings and supplies for the new. Pooling in the center, they rose up, a swirling mass of blackness before shifting into a more than familiar form.
Just as quickly as it appeared, the black shadows vanished, leaving in their place someone been thought to be long forgotten by now and in just the same condition as he'd left, bloodstained uniform and dirtied bandages wrapped loosely around what had been the fatal wound to his neck. The man staggered for a moment, breathing heavy, because holy controlling those things took way more effort than he'd thought. Believing his balance to be regained after a moment of steadying himself, a quick glance around at his unfamiliar surroundings made him frown in disapproval. Building their own city in place of his. Bastards.
Of course, his first step forward sent him straight to the ground in a resounding oof. Apparently, getting accustomed to life again was going to be more of a hassle than previously expected.
Standing upright with a fair amount of effort, sounds of footsteps from the streets were his cue to book it. He took off down the alley, keeping to the back streets to remain hidden from the soldiers who would be less than happy to see him again. Not that he wasn't unarmed, of course. But still. There were priorities to be seen to first.
Occasionally, he would move back up an empty alley, mostly hidden by the building's own shadow as activity in the streets passed by. He was looking for specific someones, but any familiar face would be a sight for formerly empty eyes. Whether familiar was friendly, or not.