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Post by ORRIN KNIGHTLY on Mar 13, 2014 8:28:51 GMT
He lived in the West, but South was most like home. Grimy sidewalks, stale air, flickering streetlamps that barely lit up the evening sky, that was where he grew up and he had a feeling he'd never feel quite comfortable in the innocent suburbs.
But that wasn't why Orrin trudged through the dimming district.
Visiting her had become routine for him, a good routine. Every evening, before work, he'd budget a good twenty minutes or so to weave his way through the alleyways, hugging a bag close to him so it was impossible to see behind the thick coat he always seemed to wear in-spite of the island's climate.
Her puppies were starting to get loud. He could hear them yipping and barking at each other as he approached the dead-end alley where she lived. Out of respect to her, he didn't get too close, stopping about halfway between her and the entrance to the alley.
The mutt's ear's perked up and her tail wagged a little as the man placed the small bag of dog food horizontally on the ground, slicing it's back open with pocket knife instead of fumbling around with the sealed top.
He didn't name her, there wasn't really a point.
@open
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Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2014 19:35:06 GMT
There was an ache. Shot up from his tailbone, up the length of his spine, and now it settled heavy in his head, wrapped around his skull. It throbbed a slow beat, a steady rhythm; Jamie matched his steps to it.
It was a long walk from his uncle's mansion all the way down to the south, but he had plenty of time. Maybe it was dangerous to be here, but Jamie was like a ghost, not quite there, and nobody seemed to notice or care about him trudging down the streets.
His eyes had been open so long that the air stung. It smelled like cheap beer and bad hygiene, cigarettes and garbage; and it was all familiar now. He paused, cocking his head as the dogs barked and he couldn't place where it came from. He shut his eyes and wondered if it wasn't all in his head, steps slowing to a stop in front of the alley's entrance. It was dimly lit - he could smell the dog food and he could see the man when he straightened. He stood and stared, wiping his clammy hands on his blazer.
ORRIN KNIGHTLY
hope u dont mind this lil weirdo popping in
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Post by ORRIN KNIGHTLY on Mar 13, 2014 20:19:52 GMT
He finished slicing the bag of kibble open, trying to spread the slit open a bit with his one hand before slowly standing up. He watched the dog and her puppies for a few seconds before turning around.
There was a kid standing there. Orrin narrowed his eyes, shifting his weight a bit as he studied him. He was dressed nice, not for this area. What was he doing down here? He looked nervous.
At that point, Orrin realized he was gripping his pocket knife pretty tightly. He quickly pushed the edge back in, slipping the thing back in his pocket.
The dog behind him tensed up, by this point she had grown neutral to Orrin, he brought her food so, but she was not so fond of strangers.
JAMIE MARTINELLI
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2014 5:07:56 GMT
The man was tall, and Jamie caught the glint of the knife in his hand. Jamie had one too, a switchblade that his uncle had given him. He didn't reach for it. Maybe he didn't even have it with him, left in his locker at school, or his backpack at home. He watched the man putting the knife away, and he spread his own palms in something of a surrender.
Jamie looked at the dog. He didn't often hallucinate people, almost always animals. His head still pounded, jarring, splitting apart his thoughts before he could make them whole and complete. He blinked, eyes lingering shut, and he could see the faint burn of the streetlight, still. When he opened them, everything was the same. He took a curious step closer.
ORRIN KNIGHTLY
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Post by ORRIN KNIGHTLY on Mar 15, 2014 20:57:54 GMT
He watched, doing little, as the kid stood there, his palms uncurled, slowly, after orrin put the knife away and he turned to look at the dog for a few seconds before closing his wide, drooping eyes.
Orrin didn't move, watching as the kid took a step forward. The dog growled. He looked sickly, pale skin, unkempt dull hair, dark rings haloed his eyes betraying nights without sleep.
"Are you okay?"
JAMIE MARTINELLI
ahh its sorta shitty sorry
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Post by Deleted on Mar 20, 2014 1:05:23 GMT
A low growl rumbled from the dog, and it tensed. Jamie stopped, looking up at the man. He was still, until he spoke. Jamie blinked blearily, surveying him. He was probably real. He was tall and strong, he looked like the rough men his uncles hired. He nodded.
"The dog..." His eyes flickered to the animal and back to the man. He wasn't sure what he meant to ask. No, he was sure - is it real? - but that wasn't a normal question to ask. Never mind there was nothing normal about a teenage boy wandering the south by himself this time of night.
ORRIN KNIGHTLY
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Post by ORRIN KNIGHTLY on Mar 20, 2014 3:18:21 GMT
When she started growling, the boy stopped looking up to study Orrin before nodding. Orrin wasn't quite sure if he believed him.
"The dog..." he finally said.
Huh? Orrin didn't turn to look at her, He couldn't hear her move and didn't see a need and didn't quite want to turn his gaze away from the out-of-place boy.
He wasn't quite sure how to answer. So he stood there for a few moments before finally asking "yeah?"
JAMIE MARTINELLI
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Post by Deleted on Mar 30, 2014 3:15:37 GMT
Jamie squinted a bit, as if if he focused his vision it would focus his thoughts. He took a moment to pick out something appropriate to say, standing in silence until a shrill yip from one of the puppies jarred him out of the maze of his mind.
"Yours?"
His neck felt stiff, sore from holding up his head and the headache that weighed on it. It would be rude to crack his neck now, even if he was so tired. Even if he almost didn't care. Instead, he brought up a hand to rub at it, feeling his hair on the nape of his neck and thinking vaguely that he needed a haircut.
ORRIN KNIGHTLY
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Post by ORRIN KNIGHTLY on Apr 6, 2014 5:02:11 GMT
There was more silence, as Orrin waited for the boy to say something. The puppies continued to wrestle in the background, one of them yelped which seemed to bring the boy back from his thoughts. "Yours?"
"No."
And it was quiet again, minus the dogs behind them. They were starting to get older, not quiet old enough to stray very far from their mother, but before long the thing would have a handful to take care off. He heard her rustle around a bit, growling a little more. She was probably getting impatient, usually he just opened the bag and left.
"We should go."
JAMIE MARTINELLI
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