Ghost of a Thought (Axel)
Jan 20, 2013 19:43:15 GMT -5
Post by Anarchy is BACK!! on Jan 20, 2013 19:43:15 GMT -5
A cool breeze blew through District One, ruffling the black fabric of a cotton sleeveless shirt that only a crazy person would think of wearing in this weather. It was around ten in the evening and the streets of the district were literally empty aside from one person. The young adult clad in black walked through the streets, his form being illuminated by the streetlamps.
The male had an athletic build causing him to have the right to wear a black sleeveless shirt in comparison to some of the other people he had seen. His bright emerald green eyes flitted about looking in dark places for any hidden people that may attack. A solid black tribalesque tattoo spiraled down his left arm from his shoulder to just above his elbow. On his lower body he wore black combat boots and black cargo pants, the boots concealing a combat knife. and the shirt concealing a Peacekeeper firearm that he had appropriated that was in his waistband on the small of his back.
Ghost ran a hand through his rust brown hair as he finally made it to the bounds of the district, the Forest just beyond. He turned down an alleyway that ran almost directly next to the fence and stopped, his mouth turning up in a smile as he smelled the pine that smelled like his home. But he couldn't go back out there just yet. He was getting into something that was way over his head.
He glared down at the ground, his mind wandering to Kaeleen Dempsy. Damn him...why can't they understand? To beat a career...you need to think like one...but fight like a wanderer. He sighed and put one hand against the wall of the home on his left. The Streetrats would be wiped out without him, but he wouldn't be able to train them right for victory.
He stood back up and walked over to an alley that led back to the street when he heard a noise from the other side of the fence...near the weak spot. Ghost ran over to the spot and knelt down. The chain link fence had one weak spot which had a depression underneath it that led to the inside of the district. He waited until he saw some sort of hand and reached down to the wanderer with a hand clad in black half-finger gloves.
"Grab on. I'll help you through." He whispered to the person as they crawled through the depression.
The male had an athletic build causing him to have the right to wear a black sleeveless shirt in comparison to some of the other people he had seen. His bright emerald green eyes flitted about looking in dark places for any hidden people that may attack. A solid black tribalesque tattoo spiraled down his left arm from his shoulder to just above his elbow. On his lower body he wore black combat boots and black cargo pants, the boots concealing a combat knife. and the shirt concealing a Peacekeeper firearm that he had appropriated that was in his waistband on the small of his back.
Ghost ran a hand through his rust brown hair as he finally made it to the bounds of the district, the Forest just beyond. He turned down an alleyway that ran almost directly next to the fence and stopped, his mouth turning up in a smile as he smelled the pine that smelled like his home. But he couldn't go back out there just yet. He was getting into something that was way over his head.
He glared down at the ground, his mind wandering to Kaeleen Dempsy. Damn him...why can't they understand? To beat a career...you need to think like one...but fight like a wanderer. He sighed and put one hand against the wall of the home on his left. The Streetrats would be wiped out without him, but he wouldn't be able to train them right for victory.
He stood back up and walked over to an alley that led back to the street when he heard a noise from the other side of the fence...near the weak spot. Ghost ran over to the spot and knelt down. The chain link fence had one weak spot which had a depression underneath it that led to the inside of the district. He waited until he saw some sort of hand and reached down to the wanderer with a hand clad in black half-finger gloves.
"Grab on. I'll help you through." He whispered to the person as they crawled through the depression.