Ordinarily, running a few cons, or heading to the beach to take advantage of a few tourists would be enough to satiate his boredom, that nervous energy that made his fingers drum and his brain almost itch with a need to do something.
And so he wandered the ship aimlessly, hands jammed into his pockets, cigarette dangling from his lips. And as he strolled down deck four, he spotted a familiar head of green hair. Ducking into the shadows, he pinched the cigarette and tossed it aside, watching as Herz approached the doors to Carnival.
"Fourth...time," He whispers to himself, nervously drawing out the 'o' as he gathers his courage to open the doors.
Three times he's navigated the carnival, not once in those three times falling victim to a bear or anything until he'd reached his "mother's" cave. He shouldn't be afraid of running through again, but he was.
He always is.
With a sigh, he loosens his shoulders, pulls the Carnival door open just wide enough to let him through, and slips inside.
Russ feels a little chill of excitement run down his spine, and he licks his lips. He's not stupid, he's not about to go walking through Carnival. It's a hellish place even for those who can defend themselves, and Russ isn't a fighter.
But there's that thrill. The rush of danger, the burst of adrenalin from doing something he shouldn't, being somewhere he's at risk. The danger of getting caught. The fear of not getting away with it. The excitement that comes with the possibility that he will.
Before he can even reconsider, he saunters up to the doors, just nudging them open a crack to watch Herz descend the ramp. He won't go in, but he's not adverse to seeing what the fuss is about. And maybe watching the kid face off the danger inside.
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Ordinarily, running a few cons, or heading to the beach to take advantage of a few tourists would be enough to satiate his boredom, that nervous energy that made his fingers drum and his brain almost itch with a need to do something.
And so he wandered the ship aimlessly, hands jammed into his pockets, cigarette dangling from his lips. And as he strolled down deck four, he spotted a familiar head of green hair. Ducking into the shadows, he pinched the cigarette and tossed it aside, watching as Herz approached the doors to Carnival.
He was going back? Interesting.
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Three times he's navigated the carnival, not once in those three times falling victim to a bear or anything until he'd reached his "mother's" cave. He shouldn't be afraid of running through again, but he was.
He always is.
With a sigh, he loosens his shoulders, pulls the Carnival door open just wide enough to let him through, and slips inside.
Reply
Russ feels a little chill of excitement run down his spine, and he licks his lips. He's not stupid, he's not about to go walking through Carnival. It's a hellish place even for those who can defend themselves, and Russ isn't a fighter.
But there's that thrill. The rush of danger, the burst of adrenalin from doing something he shouldn't, being somewhere he's at risk. The danger of getting caught. The fear of not getting away with it. The excitement that comes with the possibility that he will.
Before he can even reconsider, he saunters up to the doors, just nudging them open a crack to watch Herz descend the ramp. He won't go in, but he's not adverse to seeing what the fuss is about. And maybe watching the kid face off the danger inside.
Reply
Still.
Waiting.
A flicker, suddenly. Is that someone in the shadows by the woods?
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