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 Posted: Thu Dec 06, 2012 2:01 pm
In the rapidly approaching dusk, Michael stared at the buss schedule on the faded post. Did it even stop in such a shitty neighbourhood? The sign was so old it was hard to tell if the stop was unused, or just never ever taken care of. He glanced around at the warehouses and empty streets, then pulled up his sleeve and squinted at his watch again. There was still time to get back to the dorms before curfew was enforced, but not if he hung around much longer. He really didn't have any problems walking home in the dark, since well, where he grew up, it was dark for most of the day during winter. The unease he was feeling, Michael decided, was from a combination of the big city and the unknown. He'd overheard kids talking about it it, how it wasn't a good idea to be out alone after dark in this city. Although there wasn't much going on lately, people apparently used to get attacked and sent to hospital and stuff like that. He'd hardly believed it but, somehow, in a situation like this, the stories kept popping up in the front of his head. Hunching his shoulders and darting a look around at the empty buildings again, he hurried on down the street. No point in waiting for a bus that you weren't sure was even coming.
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Posted: Fri Dec 07, 2012 2:18 am
Areas most affected by age and decay had quickly become one of Remarque's favorite places to linger when he was out gathering energy. The homeless population had an apparent fondness for empty buildings, and this neighborhood had more than enough to provide. For this reason, Remarque had once again made it his destination for the evening, and having found a large, albeit heavily damaged mirror to walk through had saved him the typical trek. Which left him with an abundance of extra energy by which to search for targets.
So late in the day, a strange sort of silence had descended across the area; when Remarque heard footsteps so very near, he couldn't help but investigate. He'd been in one of the abandoned houses, and though there was a wall between him and this stranger, it didn't take him long to make his way towards him. He moved through one of the busted out windows and landed, fairly silently on the ground. He brushed himself off, never one to make a bad first impression—even for a hobo.
Casually he walked towards the footsteps—and then paused.
He was not staring at an old, well worn hobo, but a young man, probably not too much younger than he was. In broad sight, he couldn’t very well slip away unnoticed, so he did the next best thing—offered a greeting. "Evening," he said, despite it being at least a short while before the darkness set in.
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Posted: Fri Dec 07, 2012 7:50 am
Walking along, head down, eyes unfocused, the last thing that Michal expected was to hear a voice coming from right in front of him. But still, it happened. " Evening." He jumped, having completely failed to notice the approach of the older man, his mind having been miles away as his body robotically shuffled forward. Stumbling to keep his balance, arms windmilling frantically, Michael stared at the sudden apparition in front of him. Opening his mouth in shock, the immediate first thoughts running through his brain inadvertently tumbled out. "What the ******** are you supposed to be?" To be fair, it was a valid question. The guy was dressed like some kind of circus performer. And were those wings on his a**? I mean, what kind of a person willingly tied feathers to their butt?? Face twisting a little as he tried to push down all the insults and cracks about the guy's choice of clothes that kept bubbling to the front of his mind, Michael eyed the man in front of him with deep suspicion and tried to get his brain back on track. After the initial pause, he opened his mouth again. Say hi back. Again, his mouth betrayed the strict orders from his brain. "I mean damn! What the hell?"
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Posted: Sat Dec 08, 2012 2:37 am
Ah, the unfortunate aftermath of the sun being up; all of Remarque's colors were in full sight. It wasn't the first time someone had given him an odd look for his attire—and it certainly wouldn't be the last. "Oh, full of manners, I see," he replied a bit indignantly, perhaps feeling a bit defensive about his getup. It wasn't like he'd chosen all the colors, and while he was certainly satisfied with the power that came along with the title, the bright colors were something he was still dealing with.
"I'm taking a walk in a nasty party of town and happened across someone, is that how you always greet people? I'd think you'd try to stay a bit more levelheaded when someone approaches you in this region. Hasn't your mother warned you this isn't the safest place to take an afternoon stroll, or were you out looking for trouble?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 11, 2012 6:28 pm
Of course, Michael knew all of that. You don't mouth off to strangers, especially ones that jumped out at you in bad neighbourhoods. And maybe he shouldn't have been daydreaming as he walked around. And maybe he should apologize for what he just said. As the indignant tirade started, he ground his teeth and felt a haze of embarrassment settle firmly over his shoulders. This weirdo didn't have to keep dragging it on, and what was that, talking about his mom? Who did this guy think he was?? Gears switching from considering how to word an apology to full out attack, Michael stepped forward and jabbed a finger at the colourful stranger. "Well if you didn't go sulking around shitty streets, leaping out suddenly at people, maybe you'd get a more levelheaded reaction! Ever think of that? You ask me what I'm doing here, but you're the one who's sticking out like a ... a ... a thing that ..." Faltering, he screamed inwardly at similes. Why could he never get the hang of them? Brain churning, Michael spat out the end of the sentence, hoping venom could make up where basic language skills had failed. "...sticks out!"
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Posted: Wed Dec 19, 2012 1:35 am
The amused expression on Remarque's face was a clear indication of how little he thought of this civilian. Even with a finger being jabbed in his direction. "Sticking out like a sore thumb," he suggested, thinking the phrase a bit more eloquent. He brushed off the front of his outfit, adding, "And I wasn't sulking, I was investigating. Massive difference. Besides. Sulking implies that I wasn't enjoying myself, and do I seem like I'm in a bad mood?"
Of which he wasn't, not even in the slightest. He was out earlier than usual, so it was hardly even cold, and things had been falling nicely into place for a while now. Assuming this fellow wasn't going to answer a rhetorical question, Remarque, despite the banter, extended a hand. "Remarque," he introduced, as if this was the norm for him. Not that he made a habit of conversing with schoolboys, but these days you never knew if a civilian was just a civilian. Plus, this guy didn't exactly look like his pockets were filled with cash, so Remarque was willing to spare draining him just to find out if it was worth anything. "And you are…?"
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