[OPEN]
Characters: speaksdaggers and anyone who fancies following him through the delightful sewers of Death City.
Location: A manhole cover in a back street of the Shopping District. And the sewers. Mm yeah.
Rating: PG-13 for inevitable language. And possible running-the-fuck-away from Kishin
Time: December 23rd. Morning.
Description: Nezumi's still trying to find a way out of Death City. And if he knows his Orwellian-esq cities like he does back home, it'll be through the sewers.
[He probably looked kinda suspicious; stood down a back alley, fairly early in the morning, staring at a man hole cover with a little more intensity than a person should stare at manhole covers with. Not that Nezumi really cares. Working in a book shop had perks other than generally being surrounded by decent - if somewhat bizarre, and fairly obsessed with death - literature all day, and he'd found himself with direct access to numerous different maps of the area.
Including sewer maps.
He sniffs slightly, and folds his arms. He'd found out a lot of things about Death City over the past couple of weeks - he knew now that time apparently froze for the people who had been taken from their homes, and that when they returned things would continue on from the point in time they'd been taken from. Whether or not he trusted this information, Nezumi still hadn't decided, but for now he was taking it with a pinch of salt.
Or a massive fucking bucket of the stuff.
Which was why he was hovering over a manhole cover with a determined expression on his face. The easiest way in and out of No. 6 had been the sewer system. Hell, Shion, fresh out of his spoiled, privileged life in No. 6 had managed to make it through them. A toddler probably could. So, it made sense to try the sewers first. They all led out of the city, after all, it was just a case of navigating it and going from there. Or at least, that was the eventual plan... Nezumi wasn't stupid, he'd have to have had his head under a rock for the past few weeks not to understand that they were surrounded by desert here. This was just a test run to see if his theory was correct.
Then, if he was right, he was getting the hell out of here. After all, if the whole suspension of time thing turned out to be a lie there was a high chance Shion would get himself killed without someone there to play babysitter. That was just too much trouble for Nezumi to even want to think about - he'd probably have to deal with a crying Inukashi, or something equally ridiculous... and that was a definitely a horrific thought if there ever was one.
Dropping to a crouch, he pried his fingers under the man hole cover and pulled it up and off its grate, not caring about the clanging sound it made as it hit the ground.]
Location: A manhole cover in a back street of the Shopping District. And the sewers. Mm yeah.
Rating: PG-13 for inevitable language. And possible running-the-fuck-away from Kishin
Time: December 23rd. Morning.
Description: Nezumi's still trying to find a way out of Death City. And if he knows his Orwellian-esq cities like he does back home, it'll be through the sewers.
[He probably looked kinda suspicious; stood down a back alley, fairly early in the morning, staring at a man hole cover with a little more intensity than a person should stare at manhole covers with. Not that Nezumi really cares. Working in a book shop had perks other than generally being surrounded by decent - if somewhat bizarre, and fairly obsessed with death - literature all day, and he'd found himself with direct access to numerous different maps of the area.
Including sewer maps.
He sniffs slightly, and folds his arms. He'd found out a lot of things about Death City over the past couple of weeks - he knew now that time apparently froze for the people who had been taken from their homes, and that when they returned things would continue on from the point in time they'd been taken from. Whether or not he trusted this information, Nezumi still hadn't decided, but for now he was taking it with a pinch of salt.
Or a massive fucking bucket of the stuff.
Which was why he was hovering over a manhole cover with a determined expression on his face. The easiest way in and out of No. 6 had been the sewer system. Hell, Shion, fresh out of his spoiled, privileged life in No. 6 had managed to make it through them. A toddler probably could. So, it made sense to try the sewers first. They all led out of the city, after all, it was just a case of navigating it and going from there. Or at least, that was the eventual plan... Nezumi wasn't stupid, he'd have to have had his head under a rock for the past few weeks not to understand that they were surrounded by desert here. This was just a test run to see if his theory was correct.
Then, if he was right, he was getting the hell out of here. After all, if the whole suspension of time thing turned out to be a lie there was a high chance Shion would get himself killed without someone there to play babysitter. That was just too much trouble for Nezumi to even want to think about - he'd probably have to deal with a crying Inukashi, or something equally ridiculous... and that was a definitely a horrific thought if there ever was one.
Dropping to a crouch, he pried his fingers under the man hole cover and pulled it up and off its grate, not caring about the clanging sound it made as it hit the ground.]