[A lone cowboy]
Who: Jake Marshall, anyone else
What: Just a lone cowboy tryin' to make heads or tail of this here place. (He's lost)
Where: The Neighborhood.
When: After his arrival
Rating: Pg-13 for possible language? 8D;
Open: Very open.
"I don't like the looks of this place." Jake murmured to himself as he nudged at one of the fences with his foot. It looked picture-perfect enough, the nice fences, pretty buildings. It was all well and good, except for that one little thing that was missing, that was critical; people. He didn't like the looks of this place at all, a place like this needed people. This here neighborhood gave him the heebie-jeebies.
"Feels like someone stepped on my grave. Right spooky." Fingertips tapped at his concealed flask. If there was any time to pop the cap, it was now. The silver flask left his pocket and he immediately popped the cap and chugged what was left of his drink (when he first arrived he indulged in a swig or three.)
Now empty, he put the flash back into his pocket then tipped his hat back, Jake idly wondered if he should holler for someone, it would catch attention, he just wasn't sure what kind of attention. Good or bad, he wasn't in the mood to defend himself. So he turned his attention back to the home whose fence he kicked.
"This is more irritatin' than that darned machine."
What: Just a lone cowboy tryin' to make heads or tail of this here place. (He's lost)
Where: The Neighborhood.
When: After his arrival
Rating: Pg-13 for possible language? 8D;
Open: Very open.
"I don't like the looks of this place." Jake murmured to himself as he nudged at one of the fences with his foot. It looked picture-perfect enough, the nice fences, pretty buildings. It was all well and good, except for that one little thing that was missing, that was critical; people. He didn't like the looks of this place at all, a place like this needed people. This here neighborhood gave him the heebie-jeebies.
"Feels like someone stepped on my grave. Right spooky." Fingertips tapped at his concealed flask. If there was any time to pop the cap, it was now. The silver flask left his pocket and he immediately popped the cap and chugged what was left of his drink (when he first arrived he indulged in a swig or three.)
Now empty, he put the flash back into his pocket then tipped his hat back, Jake idly wondered if he should holler for someone, it would catch attention, he just wasn't sure what kind of attention. Good or bad, he wasn't in the mood to defend himself. So he turned his attention back to the home whose fence he kicked.
"This is more irritatin' than that darned machine."