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[PRP] Picking up a Stray (Lou/Dorian)

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Syrie
Vice Captain

Garbage Paladin

14,840 Points
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PostPosted: Sun May 27, 2012 8:04 pm


User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.Ever since he'd been 'infected' by the parasitic god-creature, travel had been a great deal easier. It seemed that the...thing within had simply wanted to be found, bound to his old bones and after that it didn't much care where he went or with whom.

That suited Llewellyn Edward Hawthorn quite well, thank you. As a man of Reason and of Science, he had been put out talking to the tree-freak god of Forest, Glyph (who may or may not have been holding a grudge for the accidental immolation of several acres of newly growing forest). It was that very same reason that allowed him to grudgingly accept that his life was now not his own and to that end, Lou had decided he was going to conduct as much research prior to his "death" as physically possible (some days he could scarce make himself get out of bed, others he felt fair-to-bursting with energy - likely caused by that apocalyptic looking Twinkie-of-a-gem embedded in his flesh).

At any rate, today found him on another of his 'scavenging' trips; often he would leave the Pantheon Proper (as he'd come to understand the space where the Gods mostly dwelt in their physical manifestations was to be called) with a (scavenged) bicycle that he'd repaired and a shopping cart that he'd rigged to be pulled along behind. On previous trips he'd returned with various scraps of fabrics, the odd canned good and various half-demolished machinery or gadgets. Some he could fix and use, others he kept for parts...and still others ended up at the communal Marketplace to be bartered or sold for other goods/items.

Money meant nothing, but precious gems still held some value. The Marketplace mainly thrived on the barter system, something that suited Lou just fine.

Hawthorn had traversed a bit further than some of his previous rounds, going after a now-ramshackle looking out-door galleria-type mall. From the outward appearance, it had been scavenged before, but usually Lou had good luck with his searches - he wasn't usually looking for what other's considered "things of value". He went through two shops with no company but a few carrion-crawlers: rats and roaches, spiders and some other queer looking things that seemed to be insects - just nothing he'd ever seen before.

Things were going well until he hit what seemed to have been a novelty store. Usually he avoided places like this, but he thought he'd seen the alluring flash of neon pink that signaled to his brain: flamingo. Lou had left his bike and cart outside the wreckage of a store-front and begun the arduous task of navigating rotting merchandise and broken wires, tiles and beams when he got his ankle stuck on...nothing?!

No, it was something, but he couldn't see it. He grunted, groaned, growled and pulled until he was set free with an almost comical pop, only to go crashing into a series of shelves that then crumbled and fell forward and through what was left of the storefront's large glass window.

The noise was deafening and he lay there, dazed.
PostPosted: Sun May 27, 2012 10:15 pm


When s**t hit the fan, the best solution was to get an umbrella and plan for a bath. Sadly, when s**t had hit the fan to the point where the world had all but fallen apart and nothing seemed like it was going to last, Dorian had gone for the duck and cover tactic, avoiding people as much as he could, avoiding the outside when he could, and only going out when he had to.

When the proverbial s**t had hit the fan, all he could do was lift up his arms and try to keep it out, off of his face. But that didn't stop him from seeing what it did. What even now, it had changed. There wasn't much a place for people like him, musicians and teachers. Place being where he could be safe and held down. There just wasn't. For a while he'd wandered, aimless, only driven to live and not accidentally be unlucky enough to get himself killed or worse.

The worst never came, or it did, but he'd escaped it. He'd escaped it and found a haven of sorts. It was a place where most people...most things, would be alright. Not much but it was a good place where Dorian felt for the first time in a long time, safe. He wasn't afraid to close his eyes and sleep. He didn't clutch his knife in his hand in case he was going to be robbed. He felt 'right' even if that feeling wasn't much to go by.

He'd kept to himself and slowly, he'd opened up. He found it was okay to sing and play music for money, teach some kids he saw as much as he could. It got him a meal sometimes, batteries, things. Money was practically worthless, but food, stuff for shelters, basic things like soap even held a hell of a lot of value. So while he could get some stuff for his song and skill, Dorian was stuck mostly working his way trying his hand had scavenging and repairs. Mostly repairs but for repairs you needed parts.

Hence, why he'd been up until a few moments ago, calf deep in debris. It was mostly old plastics, and thankfully, his thick cargo pants kept him from getting cut up. he didn't need to get sick and die from an infection of all things. He needed a few things, mostly just s**t to barter, but also check and see if there were still any batteries in the back.

A crash of glass and pocketing the small pack of triple A's, he wiggled his way out to the main store front, not noting the man at first before he looked down, trying to be careful to avoid the broken glass as he went out to help the guy up. "Old man, the hell you doing, jumping through windows? There is a door you know."


iStoleYurVamps

iStoleYurVamps


Trash Husband

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