sick of trying to start again [OPEN]
Gay latino ghosts and sheer terror aside, this place was... yeah, it was still a weird place. He had the cat ears and tail to prove it.
Having materialised in the bomb shelter in the middle of a glitch, Tyler was vaguely pleased to discover a whole new world outside the (since-expanded) confines underground. There was fresh air up here, or at least a reasonable facsimile. In the midst of so many decayed buildings, he felt more at ease with the sky open above him.
At first he wandered, scanned the layout, mapped the place out. He slept where he bothered, ate whenever he was able. In fact, before he started taking up residence in a suitably dark and sad little apartment (he’d suddenly found himself weary of how open and fresh everything was), he had actually been eating much better than he used to back in his old life. Money problems, you know.
Among other problems.
The solution to at least one of those remaining problems lived in his wallet and had begun already to cause him great concern. Two little pills, each morning, without fail. The half-sheet he kept in his wallet in case of emergency was quickly running dry. In Tyler’s mind, the word “emergency” alluded to something in the realm of a catastrophic volcano explosion destroying everything in his ghetto suburb but him, and the nearest high-end antipsychotic drug just happens to be on the other side of the planet which is almost twice the size of Earth and in order to stay sane and withdrawal-free beyond the next fortnight he has to get there within the fortnight. You know, something completely improbable given his boring life. But this, this blipping out of reality nonsense.. yeah, this scenario can be added to the list.
And just in the nick of time. However, he was starting to see that spreading out the remainder of his pills to last would barely get him through the next couple of days. He had to step out on the town. He had to go... shopping!
.. Wait. Maybe tomorrow.
So one day, he painfully ripped himself away from his GameStationX, stood up and left the dim hovel-apartment, crumpled-up empty pill sheet in hand, his hair a ratty browny grey mess and pants too big for his skinny 5’5 frame secretly held up by some electrical tape. He was determined to source his pills in this strange land.. or something like them. He couldn’t stand feeling like this, and couldn’t believe this is something he could leave until he’d literally run dry. A sort of useless anger built up quickly, made him briefly attempt to smarten himself up a bit, and spurred him out the door.
Having materialised in the bomb shelter in the middle of a glitch, Tyler was vaguely pleased to discover a whole new world outside the (since-expanded) confines underground. There was fresh air up here, or at least a reasonable facsimile. In the midst of so many decayed buildings, he felt more at ease with the sky open above him.
At first he wandered, scanned the layout, mapped the place out. He slept where he bothered, ate whenever he was able. In fact, before he started taking up residence in a suitably dark and sad little apartment (he’d suddenly found himself weary of how open and fresh everything was), he had actually been eating much better than he used to back in his old life. Money problems, you know.
Among other problems.
The solution to at least one of those remaining problems lived in his wallet and had begun already to cause him great concern. Two little pills, each morning, without fail. The half-sheet he kept in his wallet in case of emergency was quickly running dry. In Tyler’s mind, the word “emergency” alluded to something in the realm of a catastrophic volcano explosion destroying everything in his ghetto suburb but him, and the nearest high-end antipsychotic drug just happens to be on the other side of the planet which is almost twice the size of Earth and in order to stay sane and withdrawal-free beyond the next fortnight he has to get there within the fortnight. You know, something completely improbable given his boring life. But this, this blipping out of reality nonsense.. yeah, this scenario can be added to the list.
And just in the nick of time. However, he was starting to see that spreading out the remainder of his pills to last would barely get him through the next couple of days. He had to step out on the town. He had to go... shopping!
.. Wait. Maybe tomorrow.
So one day, he painfully ripped himself away from his GameStationX, stood up and left the dim hovel-apartment, crumpled-up empty pill sheet in hand, his hair a ratty browny grey mess and pants too big for his skinny 5’5 frame secretly held up by some electrical tape. He was determined to source his pills in this strange land.. or something like them. He couldn’t stand feeling like this, and couldn’t believe this is something he could leave until he’d literally run dry. A sort of useless anger built up quickly, made him briefly attempt to smarten himself up a bit, and spurred him out the door.