Post by Roasted Suffering on Jun 27, 2016 9:06:58 GMT
It was a bit of an obvious conclusion, but, Camille didn't like crowded places.
He didn't think it was an irrational dislike: he tried, he really did - but there are enemies in every life that will always plague a person. That's why he laid low - his pale complexion veiled under the shadow of a metal flight of stairs, arms hugging his legs. He had resembled a beggar in the cold, with his shaggy hair and dark, rag-like t-shirt and trousers. So much so, he had even been given beggar money out of mute kindness; something he had only just properly registered as he looked down and saw the stack of coppers and silvers by his feet. This wasn't very funny. No, this was kind of twisted. He had inadvertently stolen from the poor.
It was what had started as a mundane journey for items of convenience. He had only walked along the main street. He had only taken a short trip. But, as always, the shopping district, fulfilling its reputation as a shopping district, was bustling. He saw mascots bobbing about outside of stores; businessmen with fliers redirecting all they seemed to advertise like skunks; crowds of people walking - lots of people.
And they talked, too - they talked and talked than talked. To each other, to their phones, to themselves. He hadn't even seen anything, but after ten minutes, he ran to the nearest dark alley he could find. Terrified.
All because he didn't bring his headphones.
Pathetic? No, he wasn't pathetic; this was all just cause and effect. He was a victim, right? A victim of his own fate. He'd already accepted Miku as his personal savior, after all, so there was no way he could be considered pathetic with his taste. Right.
...Right?
He sighed.
Anyway, he would have to leave soon. Maybe he would give it... five minutes? And then he could leave and go home for today? Nobody else would come through the alley in that time, right? It was a relatively queer part of the block, out of place from the main roads and close to something of a spiraling dead end. It was a shock that people came down here and gave him money in the short time he'd been here - never mind came down here at all.
Speaking of the money: he couldn't just keep it, could he? And just leaving the change to rust would likely bear a greater guilt on Camille's conscious... perhaps he could sneak it in Vivi's bag later. That would be a good moral compromise.
Now, if he could get home in one piece.
He didn't think it was an irrational dislike: he tried, he really did - but there are enemies in every life that will always plague a person. That's why he laid low - his pale complexion veiled under the shadow of a metal flight of stairs, arms hugging his legs. He had resembled a beggar in the cold, with his shaggy hair and dark, rag-like t-shirt and trousers. So much so, he had even been given beggar money out of mute kindness; something he had only just properly registered as he looked down and saw the stack of coppers and silvers by his feet. This wasn't very funny. No, this was kind of twisted. He had inadvertently stolen from the poor.
It was what had started as a mundane journey for items of convenience. He had only walked along the main street. He had only taken a short trip. But, as always, the shopping district, fulfilling its reputation as a shopping district, was bustling. He saw mascots bobbing about outside of stores; businessmen with fliers redirecting all they seemed to advertise like skunks; crowds of people walking - lots of people.
And they talked, too - they talked and talked than talked. To each other, to their phones, to themselves. He hadn't even seen anything, but after ten minutes, he ran to the nearest dark alley he could find. Terrified.
All because he didn't bring his headphones.
Pathetic? No, he wasn't pathetic; this was all just cause and effect. He was a victim, right? A victim of his own fate. He'd already accepted Miku as his personal savior, after all, so there was no way he could be considered pathetic with his taste. Right.
...Right?
He sighed.
Anyway, he would have to leave soon. Maybe he would give it... five minutes? And then he could leave and go home for today? Nobody else would come through the alley in that time, right? It was a relatively queer part of the block, out of place from the main roads and close to something of a spiraling dead end. It was a shock that people came down here and gave him money in the short time he'd been here - never mind came down here at all.
Speaking of the money: he couldn't just keep it, could he? And just leaving the change to rust would likely bear a greater guilt on Camille's conscious... perhaps he could sneak it in Vivi's bag later. That would be a good moral compromise.
Now, if he could get home in one piece.