[center][color=ed1c24][h2]Peter[/h2][/color][/center] [hr] [b][i]Saturday, 4PM. Williamsburg and Bushwick, Brooklyn[/i][/b] [hr] Peter was hopelessly, frustratingly lost. It was only by the grace of several strangers that Peter was even able to get this far, the mysterious tape recorder being useless outside getting directions from people who could actually read. Distress began to crawl up his spine, causing his shoulders to tense uncomfortably. It was not unlike that feeling he got when he got lost in the grocery store as a kid, the whole situation made him feel very, very small. With a grunt Peter shook it off, instead focusing on the hunger pangs that had begun to shoot through his system earlier today. It had been awhile since his last "meal" and while the thought of more dumpster diving wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, the food was usually pretty good compared to whatever he was given in Burgentuckung's mines. Take the small victories where you one, one supposes. Fishing into his pocket, Peter dug out the note that someone wrote for him while he asked for directions. [i]"The corner of Williamsburg and Bushwick."[/i] it said, or that's what Peter thought it said at least. He decided to do what he could and tried to match the symbols on the paper with those on the signs and silently cursed his illiteracy for the hundredth time in the last month. It didn't take much time for him to find something, though it didn't come with his budding reeducation in the written language, but in a green, plant like person throwing something behind them before entering a building. This sight alone probably meant that he was in the right place and Peter was getting tired of reading anyway. He quickly made his way to the door and opened it a little too harshly in his haste, bumping his head into the doorframe before blundering into the green lady from outside.