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Stretch out and wait (open) Empty Stretch out and wait (open)

Post by Trent on August 25th 2010, 7:18 pm

"and so.. I turned to him and said" the clacking and clicking of high heeled boots traveled up through the slick cobble stone road, wet with a fallen rain that had just headed north a few minutes ago and the sun was yet to show its face from the clouds. It didn't matter anyways, the dark of night was already approaching as the sky got darker and darker. No stars or moon to guide you through the night. Still the two higher class girls dressed in the elegant dresses and hats were the majority of the street now, just this one in perticular at least. The only other one was a young man, sitting on the street with his back leant to the wall of some old closed down shop. Perhaps a new face to all the other local drunkards. The girl's eyes seemed to trace back to him with a wary gaze. They were alone so this reaction made sense to hope that this guy wasnt looking for something or wanting. The drunkard on the other hand sat there looking at the air before him, blinking occasionally. The thought that had been bugging him was what had happened the night before. There was a girl -a smirk crept on his lips- and a guy -smirk disapeared quickly- the rest was a little blurred but with a blurred and smudged neck full of lipstick markings, bruises covering the majority of his body and the rude awakening he had gotten after being thrown into the water off the port; he could basically sum it all up but then again to a guy who has no memory of his past he had to try and keep the ones he could remember if he tried. He raised a hand, one with dirt cracked into it and bleeding a crimsion of streaks. The guy threw his weapons in too, leaving him to try to get them on his own. Ripper and slayer were lying beside him, hidden by a tan cloth. Blue eyes examined it for a minute or two before putting it up to his cheek. Dark hard were out, he had forgot to shave for the first few days of coming here, seemed like the in thing was to be unshaven and unclean around here. Right now it was annoying, it felt like sand paper; these short hairs. The hair on top of his head came abit over his eyes but in some places just randomly stick up in odd directions. He gave a new meaning to bedhead. His clothes were covered in mud and wet, crumpled white shirt and vest though his jeans looked fine. The girls already gone past, he sighed deeply and heavily. What a mess. Trent looked around and started telling himself to get the hell up and away from here. Nah... Just a bit longer.

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Post by Zihark on August 25th 2010, 7:41 pm

Zihark walked drunkingly to the shore of the port. If you could call it so. Does a port have a shore if there is no water. Regardless he approached where the sea met land, the to fighting for dominance, the water ebbing, slowly corroding the sand away. He had yet to find his childhood companion, Knight. "Man it seems theyyy'll give some grog to anyone with a few munny. That forth mite have been tooooo much." Zihark collapsed on the edge of the land, it was wet, like high tide had come and gone.

Rubbing his scratchy face, he rolled over. He noticed a young man climb out of the water. "Ello mate, would you ike som company?" Zihark crawled over to the only other person on the beach. "Did the locals kick you out?" *Hickup* The drink was slowly losing it's effect on the young lad. Stareing out at the Sun, barely lighting the dark clouds covering it. He looked at the man. "What happened to you? You look a bit beet up." He dropped his head on the ground rubbing his temples, his eyes closing. He patted the youth, he had noted the girls passing by. "Don't worry lad, plenty of tail to go around." Zihark had never talked that way before, but the alcohol had changed something about him, at least for the time being. His throat was starting to dry. He had been wandering the streets for a good hour at least.

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