F
Fluffy
Guest
Original poster
An empty coffee cup, scratch paper and an overused mechanical pencil – All disposed of in the garbage can of a local coffee shop. A man with bleached hair and peach coloured skin stepped out of the sweet smelling shop with an unlit cigarette in his teeth, feeling satisfied that he was now finished with his college duties for the day. His laptop and other essentials sat comfortably in his backpack while he reached into the pocket of his denim pants, pulling out a lighter to flame the correct end of the stick. He was absently toying with the lighter after his cigarette was lit, soon pocketed when he came to a curb where he'd have to wait to cross the street. As he exhaled a breath of smoke, it reoccurred to him what today's date was. No cake, no candles, no presents… As it should be. What was another year to his age anyway?
His sapphire eyes looked above his sunglasses, watching the traffic come to an abrupt stop when it was his turn to cross. With his cigarette in hand, the now twenty-year-old man walked briskly in between the white lines painted in the street, dropping his addiction on to the ground because his head was beginning to pulse with a strange pain… The moment he reached the sidewalk on the other side, he grabbed hold of a store corner, the other hand gripping at his scarf as his eyes shut tightly behind the shades on his face.
The voice of a man echoed in his head as if calling his name. Although he didn't want to, he found himself going in the opposite direction he was intending to. Outside of town, there was a lone, old tree with weapons that have been waiting a long time for their new masters to arrive so they can be set free from their true forms. Luther Wilcox hadn't a clue what was propelling him to go this way, not even going back home where his precious motorcycle was. What he wanted more than anything was the headache and blood rush to stop…
Within that tree, a pair of cestus dangled for dear life upon one of the tree branches. They were sending out signals, hoping to be found and touched once again.
His sapphire eyes looked above his sunglasses, watching the traffic come to an abrupt stop when it was his turn to cross. With his cigarette in hand, the now twenty-year-old man walked briskly in between the white lines painted in the street, dropping his addiction on to the ground because his head was beginning to pulse with a strange pain… The moment he reached the sidewalk on the other side, he grabbed hold of a store corner, the other hand gripping at his scarf as his eyes shut tightly behind the shades on his face.
The voice of a man echoed in his head as if calling his name. Although he didn't want to, he found himself going in the opposite direction he was intending to. Outside of town, there was a lone, old tree with weapons that have been waiting a long time for their new masters to arrive so they can be set free from their true forms. Luther Wilcox hadn't a clue what was propelling him to go this way, not even going back home where his precious motorcycle was. What he wanted more than anything was the headache and blood rush to stop…
Within that tree, a pair of cestus dangled for dear life upon one of the tree branches. They were sending out signals, hoping to be found and touched once again.