That night day never really went home, not that he really had a home to get to. He strolled through the slums softly as the daylight started to come up. Looking up towards the upper city he could still vividly see his artwork. The man knew he was under rated by others, but that was his own fault. Being alone wasn't the easiest thing to do but it also wasn't that hard for him in his own head. Not knowing what to do he sat there and waited atop the roof of the next meeting place as morning hit . 

[color=9e0b0f]"I can't believe you appologized to those people . They don't know you, they don't care about you"[/color] a voice from inside his head spoke. Dax had a small bout with schizophrenia but it wasn't like other people. It was closer to MPD than anything. He had a second personality that usually only came as a voice in his head. [color=00aeef]"Shut the hell up Alister"[/color] he said aloud. At the is time of day there really wasn't anyone around so he wasn't too worried about it. [color=9e0b0f]"you know I'm fucking right. They don't care about you all they care about is themselves no one else"[/color][color=00aeef]"shut up damnit. I'm going to bed"[/color]

Day lie down on the roof and drifted off to sleep. 

Later that afternoon he was awoken by the smell of fresh spray paint and he sat up. What could that be he thought. Dax looked over the edge and saw the fresh rat pack logo on the door. [color=6ecff6]"oh shit I guess this is the place"[/color] he said with a chuckle as he lie back down. Even though he was already ther, he decided to wait for others to show before entering this time.