First Post
The scene opens to a summer's evening. The air is hot, rolling off cars in visible smoke and coming off the asphalt, warming the sneakers of individuals on a basketball court. Squeaks and shouts create the backdrop, followed by ambulance cars, as a house nearby festered with people. Something about someone's grandfather kicking the bucket. Or maybe it was a shooting nearby? Either the dead relative or the shooting, the world kept on spinning like it never stopped. Round and round until you got sick and puked up your guts.
But wasn't that the fun part of all this? Always something new, always something different every day. One day it might even be you to take the plunge into the deep beyond and kiss whatever god or void you believed in. At the end of the day, everyone had a choice to be who they wanted to be here and now. Because what happened on the other side either mattered or it didn't.
For this figure, there would always be a bench seated outside a chain-linked fence in some universe to meet them. Always a bench, unless you went to a fucked up heaven that hated homeless people. Maybe that's just hell then. Then came the rattle of pills in a bottle. The sound was euphoric as much as the medication, made the figures' legs tap and their muscular thighs tense as it moved back and forth. **Hungry.** The bottle had been a bit harder to get this time, but it was worth the effort of tracking down. Especially when the figure slipped two pills into their mouth, savoring the disc shape and the smoothness of the tablet before swallowing. The bottle was in their jacket pocket quicker than a blink, but really, if someone wanted to take it from them, they would be picking the worst fight. The figure's eyes opened as the world focused just as a man made a hoop and the ambulance turned the corner out of the neighborhood.
She was Bulletant.
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The house had a blue roof, white walls, a wrap-around porch, and the appearance of two floors. The appearance o> f fairy lights sparkling around its entrance sparkled in the reflection of the window as Bulletant sat parked outside it with their phone in hand as they stared down at the address they had been given. The cool black mustang with white trim and bald tires was an eerie addition to the clean-cut lawn and atmosphere. However, it could easily be forgotten as they had chosen to park under an old oak tree on the side of the property.
Big hands clutched the iPhone as the individual dully scrolled on their social media. The thumbs were large and swollen, making the movements stiff as they swiped up and down on the screen. Training had gotten a bit wild that day, but it had been good; they had scored some interest in one of the other abnormals that found themselves down in the rings. Might be able to get a drink sometime, swap a bit of knowledge so that Bulletant could feel less distant than they already had been. Nitro was gonna get their fucking ass, but they didn't want to live in doom and gloom. It was their life.
That's when those electric blue eyes, like blue steel looked up. They couldn't get a reading on this guy from inside the confines of leather and engine. It required them to move, to get up and go. They pocketed the phone in their basketball shorts and touched the steering wheel with firm hands. For a moment, Bulletant considered driving the sweet ride right through the side of the house, before giggling. It was obvious, they couldn't just wait for money to float through the window.
So Bulletant departed, opening the car door and pulling themselves together. The smell of nature filled their nostrils as that hot wind from earlier blew over them, tussling their dark fringe. Pocketing the keys, Bulletant made for the house with a lazy walk. Easy money was always nice.
The scene opens to a summer's evening. The air is hot, rolling off cars in visible smoke and coming off the asphalt, warming the sneakers of individuals on a basketball court. Squeaks and shouts create the backdrop, followed by ambulance cars, as a house nearby festered with people. Something about someone's grandfather kicking the bucket. Or maybe it was a shooting nearby? Either the dead relative or the shooting, the world kept on spinning like it never stopped. Round and round until you got sick and puked up your guts.
But wasn't that the fun part of all this? Always something new, always something different every day. One day it might even be you to take the plunge into the deep beyond and kiss whatever god or void you believed in. At the end of the day, everyone had a choice to be who they wanted to be here and now. Because what happened on the other side either mattered or it didn't.
For this figure, there would always be a bench seated outside a chain-linked fence in some universe to meet them. Always a bench, unless you went to a fucked up heaven that hated homeless people. Maybe that's just hell then. Then came the rattle of pills in a bottle. The sound was euphoric as much as the medication, made the figures' legs tap and their muscular thighs tense as it moved back and forth. **Hungry.** The bottle had been a bit harder to get this time, but it was worth the effort of tracking down. Especially when the figure slipped two pills into their mouth, savoring the disc shape and the smoothness of the tablet before swallowing. The bottle was in their jacket pocket quicker than a blink, but really, if someone wanted to take it from them, they would be picking the worst fight. The figure's eyes opened as the world focused just as a man made a hoop and the ambulance turned the corner out of the neighborhood.
She was Bulletant.
``````
The house had a blue roof, white walls, a wrap-around porch, and the appearance of two floors. The appearance o> f fairy lights sparkling around its entrance sparkled in the reflection of the window as Bulletant sat parked outside it with their phone in hand as they stared down at the address they had been given. The cool black mustang with white trim and bald tires was an eerie addition to the clean-cut lawn and atmosphere. However, it could easily be forgotten as they had chosen to park under an old oak tree on the side of the property.
Big hands clutched the iPhone as the individual dully scrolled on their social media. The thumbs were large and swollen, making the movements stiff as they swiped up and down on the screen. Training had gotten a bit wild that day, but it had been good; they had scored some interest in one of the other abnormals that found themselves down in the rings. Might be able to get a drink sometime, swap a bit of knowledge so that Bulletant could feel less distant than they already had been. Nitro was gonna get their fucking ass, but they didn't want to live in doom and gloom. It was their life.
That's when those electric blue eyes, like blue steel looked up. They couldn't get a reading on this guy from inside the confines of leather and engine. It required them to move, to get up and go. They pocketed the phone in their basketball shorts and touched the steering wheel with firm hands. For a moment, Bulletant considered driving the sweet ride right through the side of the house, before giggling. It was obvious, they couldn't just wait for money to float through the window.
So Bulletant departed, opening the car door and pulling themselves together. The smell of nature filled their nostrils as that hot wind from earlier blew over them, tussling their dark fringe. Pocketing the keys, Bulletant made for the house with a lazy walk. Easy money was always nice.