[h1]Entropy, n;[/h1][h3]/ˈentrəpē/ (Ancient Greek, entropía, “a turning towards”) 1. The tendency of a system that is left by itself to descend into chaos.[/h3][hr][color=LemonChiffon]This world is in shatters, blud.[/color] [color=DarkKhaki][i][b]The man across from you has the look of a devil about him, all wild, hungry eyes and stubble. His sports jacket is worn out leather--smells like leaves, looks like buckskin--and it's all in tatters about him. The deep brown of the skin on his arm and the beige of his jacket and the amber of his eyes are painted all warm shades of gold by the firelight, and reminds you of a place you can't fully remember--somewhere so far away from where you are now...unreachable, by any stretch of the imagination. He's so human you can barely believe what you're seeing, rough grin and weathered face and faded accent and all. Your breath hitches in your throat when he leans over to stoke the flames, illuminating the contours of his face. He's almost catlike.[/b][/i][/color] [color=LemonChiffon]Like....look at that shoe factory over there, with the windows punched out 'n everything. It's not that we couldn't fix it--hell, it looks nicer than where I've been sleeping--but what does it matter, really? We don't care. We keep going, 'cause it's bigger than ourselves 'n we can't identify with it. It doesn't mean anything to us. That's what the earth is, right now. That abandoned factory, cities lying shattered in the shadows of the overgrowth. We just can't bring ourselves to fixing it. We don't care enough. Has been for...twenty something years? Yeah, we've been making due. Life perseveres, y'know? Some of us have been hiding out in that old, abandoned amusement park, 'cause the bots don't think to check there. Christ, I'm old as fuck...look kid, if you want somewhere to go, ask for the scientist. She's looking for some specialists to take along, and I'm sure you can offer her something--just get out of here, 'cause it's not gonna hold up much longer. Watch your back. Good luck.[/color][hr]