Billboards and Blitz; Rumble in the Sin Jungle!
Nov 13, 2016 18:27:20 GMT -5
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Post by Tokoz on Nov 13, 2016 18:27:20 GMT -5
It was late afternoon, and the city looked incredible. The lights were starting to turn on as the sun waned, and it was like watching a great behemoth of glitz and glimmer stir from an ancient slumber. The already flashy locale became something more hypnotising, clubs and casinos attempting to lure passerby in. Playhouses had young people outside in tight clothing, handing out flyers, and a near-uncountable number of other diversions lined the streets.
Along said streets, viewing but not yet sampling, strode the form of a young man. Normally in such scenarios, his head would be bobbing above the others around him, or his clothing would stick out in some flashy manner. Instead, he seemed to blend in, head at shoulder level if he was lucky, and clothing a bit drab, if well-kept. A pair of round spectacles jiggled slightly as he moved along, crunching on a pear he had acquired through totally legitimate means.
This city was so bright. It almost made him want to curl up and snooze at times, but instead, he was wandering the town. So many tempting possibilities. Still, before he decided, he did have a decent bit of cash. Perhaps he should go for a drink. Pulling out a wallet, he flicked out a few bills before popping it back into his sweater. Just a quick nip into the nearest bar down the street.
The next morning, Amino City Police Station, Drunk Tank/Petty Crimes
That had... not gone as planned. Sure, he had decided to have a drink or two more, and sure he had perhaps proceeded to flirt with a very nice looking lady, who's boyfriend had made unfortunate allegations about his height. He may or may not have then knocked the guy's stool over when he wasn't looking, but that was no reason to (correctly) assume that Jorum was at fault and start a fight. A fight that ended about 3 seconds later, and DEFINITELY ended when a pair of cops rolled in, found him standing over an unconscious dude, and decided to frisk him. There was a lot of he said, they said afterwards.
He said that wallet was totally his, they said why do you have 4 wallets, he said he was indecisive, stop judging him, they said he was going to the station for pickpocketing, he said he'd rather not, they dragged him along anyway. Thankfully, he was sober enough to quietly lift the wallets one at a time out of the cop's pocket, and dump them into the street as they dragged him along. By the time they got there, the cops couldn't find the money, the head officer thought they were keeping it for themselves and holding out on him, and the ensuing argument had gotten him stuck in one of the cells for the night.
Rubbing his messy hair, Jorum sat up and looked around. Now, who was he sharing a cell with? Not that he intended to stay here for much longer, it was already boring in here.