December

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Charles Yager, Nov 29, 2014.

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  1. Charles felt the sun leak into the house through his open window, the warmth laying lightly on his face. His face was a mixture of brown eyes and honey brown hair, with round eyes and doll like lips. Although it was winter and extremely cold, he left the window open last night.

    He got up from the floor he was sleeping on. He looked around forgetting that this wasn't his house and that he was just staying here for the night. Charles didn't bother to wake the other man that was laying beside him.

    Charles grabbed slipped on the heavy winter attire and his back pack, after lacing up his boots, he headed for the door.
    The man that slept beside him was clearly awake by this point but didn't want to do anything about it.

    Charles shut the door behind him and looked at the dirt road he took here, his bike next laying in the frosted grass. There wasn't much snow, but frost and icy wind.

    Charles went to his bike and picked it up, riding it over the bumpy dirt road that went down the hill to the town.

    He dreaded the town.
    All there was guns, dead people, people trying to get as much money as possible, people getting beat up by the new military take over or whatever you want to call them.

    Nobody knew why there were here. All we know is that we are becoming lower in the human race.

    Charles reached the town, putting his bike in a small alley way.
    He started to walk, letting his boots stomp on the cobblestone.
    He looked over to the drugstore, now guarded by men with guns.
    They were everywhere.

    Charles now went to the pub, knowing that they could have a place to sleep in for the night.
    Charle's small house was burnt down, not being finally stable and not knowing anyone, he had to wonder around for places to stay at.
    Almost everybody had some damage to their house. Burnt or forced out.

    He walked into the pub, already feeling as if someone was watching him. Maybe not watching but gazing.
     
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  2. Gabriel threw the loose end of his fluffy red scarf over his other shoulder, it constricted his neck and protected it from the knives in the wind, the bone chilling cold that pierced skin. Relief.

    Gabriel felt like collapsing in the middle of the street. But, he couldn't do that. He couldn't make himself fall victim to all the vultures that roam the city, all the people desperate for a fancy new scarf, or all the people who'll sell Gabriel's belongings in a heart beat to scrape up some money. He couldn't do that.

    He needed his things, he needed the last remnants of what was, the things that were once part of his home, but now just...things. The vibrant red scarf that managed to survive everything and still look new, the tight jacket that protected his feeble body from the winds. All of it. All things that kept his memories attached to home...

    Gabriel can't even remember home anymore, just shapes and words that flutter around in his mind, just blurred images of his walls and people. It's been to long since he left, it's been so long since he'd abandoned them.

    All he had now was his scarf and jacket along with his house key. A pointless piece of metal that would prove useful if he sold it.

    Gabriel couldn't take it anymore, he needed to rest. The bar.

    It was right there, he could just order some water, and relax a bit. Maybe find out more about this place from the people there.

    The doors swung open and Gabriel took the closest seat. Next to a man, Gabriel couldn't make out his features, his eyes to worn for that right now.

    "Some water please?" He voiced, barely audible, yet to the bartender, all to familiar.
     
  3. "A water also," Charles said as he sat down, grunting.
    He looked at the man near him, knowing that he's been through some traumatizing events.
    "Hey, can I stay here for the night? The foster home was locked down." He mumbled as he grabbed the water.
     
  4. Allen, a middle aged man with graying hair, handed the two their waters. He almost winced as the youth asked his question, knowing that they were tight on space as is, but the sad look in the kid's eyes did him in.

    "You can stay for the night, if you don't mind sleeping on the floor. The blankets are scratchy and the pillows are filled with moss, but if you're really desperate it'll have to do." He pointed to a stairway at the far end of the bar, "That leads to the room. Hope you don't mind sharing."

    After he finished he started to rub at the bags under his eyes, as if he could simply wipe them off. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in weeks, but staying awake was the only way to earn enough money to make it through the month. The best he could hope for is that he wouldn't try to steal anything in the night.
     
  5. Gabriel's hands clenched the dirty stain glass cup in font of him, the cool glass feeling warm on his frozen hands.
    "Thank you..." He mustered, the bartender replying with a nod. Gabriel looked over to the man near him, he seemed younger, but his scratchy voice made him sound older.
    "I was just about to ask the same thing, haven't slept soundly in weeks. I thought I'd change it up this time." Gabriel's voice was raspy and weak, as he spoke from under the red scarf.

    "Was thinking heading west, heard they got a refuge..." Gabriel said to the man beside him, Gabriel yet to have seen his face, only identifying him by voice.

    The water rested in his stomach, only after giving life to the drought in his throat. He could feel the luke warm water sliding down his system, even in this weather, a cup of watter always helped Gabriel.

    He stuffed his dirty hands into his equally dirty pockets, plucking out the few coin he could find. Without question he plopped a few on the bar counter, regardless of the bartenders efforts of sayings it's free.
     
  6. Charles gave the bartender another look. It was that look in his eyes that made older men flustered and angry.
    Charles looked at the man's hands as they picked out the unwanted coins.
    He always had a habit of looking at other people's hands.

    He looked at the bartender,drinking his water.
    "I can share," he said putting the glass down.
    "The room has a bathrrom right?"
     
    #6 Charles Yager, Dec 1, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 1, 2014
  7. Gabriel's eyes shifted towards the voice, his head still as a stone. He could make out the man's hands that grasped the cup.

    "Share?" Gabriel scoffed. His past experiences made him doubtful and skeptic, sharing isn't common anymore, especially with strangers.

    "That's a bit naive, wouldn't you say? The last time I 'shared' anything, I was almost robbed, the other guy nearly made out like a bandit with my jacket."
    Gabriel said, his voice becoming more and more apparent with every word, with every sip of water.

    Gabriel felt it high time he put a face to the voice, turning on the stool his body was now facing the man, just a stool apart from him. "Lemme ask ya, have been out of this city yet? like, traveled to others?" Gabriel questioned, still being hung up on the whole 'sharing' thing.
     
  8. "As a kid." He said turning to him.
    "But they blocked off highways out of here. If we tried we'd be shot or arrested." Charles mumbled as he looked him up and down with his eyes.
    "I can sleep on the floor if you're so bothered about it."
     
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