dpickle Member
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- dpickle 12 yrs ago
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I'm still here, should have a post up sometime. I thought I'd let other people start something up in the van before posting but I'll post anyways if nothing happens soon.
Kirra said
Psst, just so you know its the middle of the night not the day.
Ah, sorry. Got my am and pm mixed up, thought it happened at noon.
I'll fix that.
This was an outrage! How could this man act so natural when he had just kidnapped several innocent, seemingly random people off the street? The fact that the man thought the sand was more interesting than the predicament he had put them in made Pat's blood boil more than the fact that he was his captor.
"Listen kid, I don't care about your fricken cleaning duties! You've got bigger things to worry about than some sand on the floor, I'm sure any second now we'll be hearing sirens and seeing blue and white lights. Or are you so crazy you think you can drug and snatch people without anyone noticing?"
Pat felt a bit better after his outburst, though in hindsight it probably wasn't the smartest move to yell at your captor. The insanity of the situation must be getting to him. Head clear, Pat was able to analyze the mans words a bit more closely. The man clearly believed that one of them was responsible for the sand in the room, but how was that possible? It wasn't like someone could take a gallon of sand with them while unconscious. When the police finally catch up with us I'll make sure to recommend they send these guys straight to the insane asylum, They're a whole new kind of crazy.
"Listen kid, I don't care about your fricken cleaning duties! You've got bigger things to worry about than some sand on the floor, I'm sure any second now we'll be hearing sirens and seeing blue and white lights. Or are you so crazy you think you can drug and snatch people without anyone noticing?"
Pat felt a bit better after his outburst, though in hindsight it probably wasn't the smartest move to yell at your captor. The insanity of the situation must be getting to him. Head clear, Pat was able to analyze the mans words a bit more closely. The man clearly believed that one of them was responsible for the sand in the room, but how was that possible? It wasn't like someone could take a gallon of sand with them while unconscious. When the police finally catch up with us I'll make sure to recommend they send these guys straight to the insane asylum, They're a whole new kind of crazy.
My theory as to why there isn't much activity in the van:
A. The kidnapping itself kind of stifles conversation beyond general confusion as to what's going on. After getting drugged and kidnapped, you don't generally wake up a decide now's a good time to talk to someone about the crazy week you've been having. :P
B. Everyone (except sandman Adam) in the van has pretty passive powers. Patt's power's "off" at the moment, super luck and regeneration aren't very noticeable at first glance, and Adam's sand can't be easily traced back to him. This prevents random fireballs from starting a conversation.
I recommend having an NPC come to the back of the van and (hopefully) starting discussions about the off things that happened after the bus crash.
Of course, these are just speculations on my part, so take them with a handful of salt.
A. The kidnapping itself kind of stifles conversation beyond general confusion as to what's going on. After getting drugged and kidnapped, you don't generally wake up a decide now's a good time to talk to someone about the crazy week you've been having. :P
B. Everyone (except sandman Adam) in the van has pretty passive powers. Patt's power's "off" at the moment, super luck and regeneration aren't very noticeable at first glance, and Adam's sand can't be easily traced back to him. This prevents random fireballs from starting a conversation.
I recommend having an NPC come to the back of the van and (hopefully) starting discussions about the off things that happened after the bus crash.
Of course, these are just speculations on my part, so take them with a handful of salt.
Ok I got my introductory/catch up post out.
Looks like Pat's power is going to be a pain in the neck for everyone in the van. Ha ha... ha. Sorry
Looks like Pat's power is going to be a pain in the neck for everyone in the van. Ha ha... ha. Sorry
May 3
Day three of the migraine. Pat sat slouched in his seat at the back of the bus, head throbbing. Pat always made an effort to avoid vehicles whenever possible, the constant shaking amplifies his already intense headache while every bump sends a shot of pain through his mind. This was the last place he wanted to be, but today it was a necessary evil. He had an appointment with a new doctor about his migraines, and this appointment was all the way across the city. Pat never owned a car, anyplace he ever wanted to be was within walking distance of his apartment, so the bus was his only option. Pat lifted his head and stared out the window, hoping the gray scenery whipping by his window would be enough to distract him. All Pat remembered of the crash was the squeaking of brakes, then everything went black.
Pat wakes up in a hospital bed. His body aches all over but other than that feels fine. "When I asked you to come to the hospital today, I didn't expect you to do so in an ambulance," a familiar voice says. Pat turns his head and sees a tall, lean, middle aged man in glasses and a lab coat.
"Doctor Smith," Pat says flatly. "If its all the same to you, I think I'll walk in through the front door next time."
"You should count yourself lucky that you'll be able to walk out of it. I had you checked over and you've fared nothing worse than a few cuts and bruises. If I was a God fearing man I would call it a miracle. Now, on to the initial reason for our little visit. We studied a blood sample we took and..."
Pat tuned out like he always did when doctors began explaining their product. He was an old fashioned man and their medical mumbo jumbo didn't make a lick of since to him. At the end of the lecture he smiled, took the bottle of baby blue pills he was offered, thanked the doctor, and left. As he walked towards the bus stop, he popped a few of the new pills in his mouth. He knew that the difference between these pills and the last ones probably stopped at the color, but still he always volunteered for whatever new or experimental drug the doctors would give him. He got on the bus and once again headed for the privacy of the back, looking out the window as the rumble of the engine caused his head to throb. In the seat in front of him, he heard a lady start to complain to herself about a headache. He thought nothing of it at the time.
May 4
It was already past noon by the time Pat finally left his apartment for his daily walk to the park. He had the hardest time getting to sleep the previous night, as soon as he got home he began to feel sick to his stomach. He felt fine in the morning, however, so Pat just wrote it off as his body getting used to his new medication. His migraine was still there, strong as ever, so the pills were, again, not the miracle cure he was looking for. The sidewalk was busier today that usual, which could be accounted for by it being Sunday and it being later than he usually set out. As Pat walked along through the crowd he began to notice a strange pattern. Whenever someone got within a few paces of him, they would noticeably cringe, stop walking, or make some other sign that they were suddenly in pain. Pat knew all the signs that someone was in pain, he learned them so he could supress them in himself, and these people were screaming them. The first few Pat didn't pay much attention two, but after twenty he could no longer deny that it was more than just a coincidence. Still he needed some sort of confirmation, some way to be sure that it wasn't just the new drugs meddling with his mind. He stopped the next person he saw that was in pain, a twenty-something man who had just started cringing and walking slower. "Excuse me, but are you feeling alright? You seem to be in some distress."
"You know, its the darndest thing," the man replied. "But I just got this killer headache a few seconds ago. Just came out of nowhere."
"I see. Well I hope you get over it soon," Pat said hurriedly before walking away. Pat knew that he should feel some kind of horror at the prospect that he was giving headaches to everyone within ten feet of him, or at least some kind of alarm. However his head was still throbbing in the fourth day of his migraine, and the only thought on the situation he could get out of his pain and drug addled mind was a "Isn't this strange." before he pushed it to the back of his mind and carried on with his day.
May 7
Pat awoke to... nothing. The migraine had ended! Pat gave himself a few minutes to revel in his relief before getting up. According to the doctor, this new stuff would help increase the time between migraines if he kept taking it. Of course, the doctor also said that it would cut the pain level of his migraines drastically, which it didn't, but at this point Pat he might as well give it a try anyways. As he prepared himself a breakfast, he used his newfound clarity to look over the last two days. It was obvious that his presence was suddenly giving people headaches, he had observed the effects for the entirety of both days and had yet to find someone come near home and not be affected. Still, even with a clear head, he had no idea why. With no other option, Pat decided to place the blame on his new medication and left it at that. Pat sighed. He would have to phone doctor Smith about the problems and get his prescription changed back to his old stuff, no use causing problems for others, even if it was for only a few seconds. That call would have to wait until the weekend, however. Doctor Smith hated being called during the week and, with his migraine gone and no need to take more medication, Pat was fine with waiting.
May 10
"Seriously doc its giving other people headaches... I don't care if you think its impossible... well in any case it didn't work and it just about killed me the first day I took it... Glad to hear it... Goodbye." Pat put down his phone, concluding his conversation with Doctor Smith. "Stubborn boy," Pat grumbled to himself as he walked out the door. "What's so strange about an experimental drug causing an unusual side effect? Its experimental after all, he should expect these sort of things." Pat knew he was right, it all coincided too perfectly to be coincidence. The day after he started taking the drug, people start having headaches and the day he stopped, people stopped. Doesn't get simpler than that. Pat walked along the sidewalk, still lost in his thoughts. He see what got him, just felt a sharp pain in his neck, then everything went black.
Pat slowly woke up, vision still blurry from whatever drugs they had given him. Pat slowly sat up, but as he did a searing pain raced through his neck. "I must have been out for a while," Pat thought to himself. "Long enough to get a neck cramp anyways. Now what the heck is going on?" He gave his new surroundings a quick once over. He appeared to be in the back of a van. Several other people were strewn about in various states of consciousness and there was a layer of sand on the floor. Putting together this information, Pat realized he still had no idea what was going on. He turned his head, wincing as another shot of pain raced through his neck, and noticed a young lady sitting against the far wall and looking terrified.
"Hey miss, do you have any idea what's going on around here?"
Day three of the migraine. Pat sat slouched in his seat at the back of the bus, head throbbing. Pat always made an effort to avoid vehicles whenever possible, the constant shaking amplifies his already intense headache while every bump sends a shot of pain through his mind. This was the last place he wanted to be, but today it was a necessary evil. He had an appointment with a new doctor about his migraines, and this appointment was all the way across the city. Pat never owned a car, anyplace he ever wanted to be was within walking distance of his apartment, so the bus was his only option. Pat lifted his head and stared out the window, hoping the gray scenery whipping by his window would be enough to distract him. All Pat remembered of the crash was the squeaking of brakes, then everything went black.
Pat wakes up in a hospital bed. His body aches all over but other than that feels fine. "When I asked you to come to the hospital today, I didn't expect you to do so in an ambulance," a familiar voice says. Pat turns his head and sees a tall, lean, middle aged man in glasses and a lab coat.
"Doctor Smith," Pat says flatly. "If its all the same to you, I think I'll walk in through the front door next time."
"You should count yourself lucky that you'll be able to walk out of it. I had you checked over and you've fared nothing worse than a few cuts and bruises. If I was a God fearing man I would call it a miracle. Now, on to the initial reason for our little visit. We studied a blood sample we took and..."
Pat tuned out like he always did when doctors began explaining their product. He was an old fashioned man and their medical mumbo jumbo didn't make a lick of since to him. At the end of the lecture he smiled, took the bottle of baby blue pills he was offered, thanked the doctor, and left. As he walked towards the bus stop, he popped a few of the new pills in his mouth. He knew that the difference between these pills and the last ones probably stopped at the color, but still he always volunteered for whatever new or experimental drug the doctors would give him. He got on the bus and once again headed for the privacy of the back, looking out the window as the rumble of the engine caused his head to throb. In the seat in front of him, he heard a lady start to complain to herself about a headache. He thought nothing of it at the time.
May 4
It was already past noon by the time Pat finally left his apartment for his daily walk to the park. He had the hardest time getting to sleep the previous night, as soon as he got home he began to feel sick to his stomach. He felt fine in the morning, however, so Pat just wrote it off as his body getting used to his new medication. His migraine was still there, strong as ever, so the pills were, again, not the miracle cure he was looking for. The sidewalk was busier today that usual, which could be accounted for by it being Sunday and it being later than he usually set out. As Pat walked along through the crowd he began to notice a strange pattern. Whenever someone got within a few paces of him, they would noticeably cringe, stop walking, or make some other sign that they were suddenly in pain. Pat knew all the signs that someone was in pain, he learned them so he could supress them in himself, and these people were screaming them. The first few Pat didn't pay much attention two, but after twenty he could no longer deny that it was more than just a coincidence. Still he needed some sort of confirmation, some way to be sure that it wasn't just the new drugs meddling with his mind. He stopped the next person he saw that was in pain, a twenty-something man who had just started cringing and walking slower. "Excuse me, but are you feeling alright? You seem to be in some distress."
"You know, its the darndest thing," the man replied. "But I just got this killer headache a few seconds ago. Just came out of nowhere."
"I see. Well I hope you get over it soon," Pat said hurriedly before walking away. Pat knew that he should feel some kind of horror at the prospect that he was giving headaches to everyone within ten feet of him, or at least some kind of alarm. However his head was still throbbing in the fourth day of his migraine, and the only thought on the situation he could get out of his pain and drug addled mind was a "Isn't this strange." before he pushed it to the back of his mind and carried on with his day.
May 7
Pat awoke to... nothing. The migraine had ended! Pat gave himself a few minutes to revel in his relief before getting up. According to the doctor, this new stuff would help increase the time between migraines if he kept taking it. Of course, the doctor also said that it would cut the pain level of his migraines drastically, which it didn't, but at this point Pat he might as well give it a try anyways. As he prepared himself a breakfast, he used his newfound clarity to look over the last two days. It was obvious that his presence was suddenly giving people headaches, he had observed the effects for the entirety of both days and had yet to find someone come near home and not be affected. Still, even with a clear head, he had no idea why. With no other option, Pat decided to place the blame on his new medication and left it at that. Pat sighed. He would have to phone doctor Smith about the problems and get his prescription changed back to his old stuff, no use causing problems for others, even if it was for only a few seconds. That call would have to wait until the weekend, however. Doctor Smith hated being called during the week and, with his migraine gone and no need to take more medication, Pat was fine with waiting.
May 10
"Seriously doc its giving other people headaches... I don't care if you think its impossible... well in any case it didn't work and it just about killed me the first day I took it... Glad to hear it... Goodbye." Pat put down his phone, concluding his conversation with Doctor Smith. "Stubborn boy," Pat grumbled to himself as he walked out the door. "What's so strange about an experimental drug causing an unusual side effect? Its experimental after all, he should expect these sort of things." Pat knew he was right, it all coincided too perfectly to be coincidence. The day after he started taking the drug, people start having headaches and the day he stopped, people stopped. Doesn't get simpler than that. Pat walked along the sidewalk, still lost in his thoughts. He see what got him, just felt a sharp pain in his neck, then everything went black.
Pat slowly woke up, vision still blurry from whatever drugs they had given him. Pat slowly sat up, but as he did a searing pain raced through his neck. "I must have been out for a while," Pat thought to himself. "Long enough to get a neck cramp anyways. Now what the heck is going on?" He gave his new surroundings a quick once over. He appeared to be in the back of a van. Several other people were strewn about in various states of consciousness and there was a layer of sand on the floor. Putting together this information, Pat realized he still had no idea what was going on. He turned his head, wincing as another shot of pain raced through his neck, and noticed a young lady sitting against the far wall and looking terrified.
"Hey miss, do you have any idea what's going on around here?"
Looks like I'm getting the chance to join in the fun.
General Bio
Name: Patrick Anderson
Age: 62
Gender: Male
Appearance: Pat stands at 5'10'' but is usually hunched over making him appear shorter. He weighs 150 pounds. He has deep wrinkles all over his face making him appear older than he actually is. His hear is a mix of gray and white and is kept quite short. He has a paler than normal skin tone. He commonly wears a sweater, usually of a darker color such as black, dark red, or dark green, with khakis, even in warm weather.
Superpower
Name of ability: Pain Manipulation
Description: Pat is able to cause any pain he feels to be felt by others. He can also (eventually) do this with other peoples pain as well. The pain is applied to the same part of the body Pat would feel it, so if Pat got shot in the arm, he could make other people feel as though they got shot in the arm.
Level one abilities: Anyone within two or three feet of Pat will feel a lesser version of whatever pain he is feeling. This aura is uncontrollable and will only turn off if he is knocked unconscious, although with effort the radius can be reduced. With focus, he can make a single person feel an equal amount of pain he is currently feeling.
Level three abilities: Pat can turn off the pain aura with minimal concentration. He can make several people feel an amount of pain equal to what his is feeling.
Level five abilities: Pat can radiate his pain to anyone within a large area around him. He can also cause other people to feel someone else's pain or lack of pain. This cannot apply to Pat himself.
Weakness/drawback: Until he gains true mastery of his power, it is fairly useless if he's not in any pain himself. It can not be used to kill in any way.
History
History: Pat was a pretty average person in his early years. His parents were farmers and he lived in a rural community on the countryside. He was quiet and well behaved in school, earning above average but not stellar marks, and spent his free time helping out with the chores at home or playing outside with some of his friends. After high school, he decided to move to the city, hoping to find a better job than his small town could provide. Ironically, he ended up accidentally following in his father's footsteps by becoming a gardener for one of the parks in the city. The park was by far Pat's favorite part of the city, his rural origins causing him to vastly prefer the greens of the park to the greys of the urban landscape. The pay wasn't great, but it was enough to afford an apartment near his worksite as well as frequent nights out with some friends at the local bar. This continued for many years and Pat was content, if a little bit bored, with his lifestyle. Everything changed on the day of his first migraine.
It started out as a day like any other. Pat got out of bed, poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down to watch the news on TV. After a few minutes of watching television he started to feel a headache coming on, but Pat just attributed it to still being sleepy after waking up and continued watching television. In a few more minutes, Pat had a throbbing headache. Thinking he had the flu, Pat got up to go phone in sick for work but at that moment the full force of the migraine struck. The searing pain he felt race through his head caused Pat's legs to give out as he collapsed back onto the couch. Pat lay curled up on the couch, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried to weather the storm but the pain continued. After almost an hour like this Pat decided he needed to get medical attention. He slowly got to his feet and staggered out of his apartment, where a neighbour found him and immediately called the ambulance. When Pat finally got to the hospital, the doctors gave him some painkillers, which dulled the pain a little, and told him the migraine should be gone within an hour. When the pain persisted they said it should be gone within the next few hours, then they said is should be gone by the end of the day. Six days of puzzled doctors and restless sleep later, the pain had finally faded away. The doctors explained it away as a freak migraine and that he should be fine to go back to work. Pat went back to work happily, joking about the experience with his coworkers and thought that the worst was behind him. Until two weeks later he had another one.
After that, Pat's time was nearly equally split between sitting in his house with the blinds drawn closed trying to get some sleep during a migraine and bouncing from puzzled doctor to puzzled doctor trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Each of the doctors would give him some knew drug to try, but the general consensus was no one knew what was causing the migraines. Over time, Pat became more and more closed off from the outside world. Unable to work, Pat lived off disability checks from the government and spent much of his time reading in his home or just sitting in the park. He had to take an obscene amount of pills every day to try and keep his pain under control. While the drugs dulled the pain and allowed Pat to preform most task during a migraine, they were a long way off from stopping it. Pat got more and more distant from his friends, unable to spend the time and energy necessary to keep the relationships going.
The day before the bus ride: Day two of the migraine. "Day two is always the worst." Pat thought to himself. In reality he thought this two himself the first day of the migraine and would likely tell himself this everyday until it ended. Pat knew all this, but somehow saying that the this day was the worst helped him carry on through the day, made him think it would be better soon. Pat slowly walked down the sidewalk, his hand in the pockets of his coat as he went along. It was ten in the morning and the streets were fairly quiet, or at least as quiet as they get in New York City. Loud noises increased the effects of a migraine, so traveling when there isn't much traffic became second nature for Pat. As Pat walked along, he could hear the rattle of the pill bottle in his pocket, shaking with every step he took. "A lot of help they are," Pat thought as the sound of a car driving by causes lances of pain to rush through his head. In his other pocket was the book he was currently reading, a fantasy novel almost a thousand pages long, a thin bookmark placed near the middle of it. The book was the reason for Pat's trek that morning as he planned to read it in the nearby park that he used to work at. The fresh air of the park always did more to help his migraine then pills ever did and the prospect of sitting down on a bench and continuing his novel was enough to get Pat to increase his pace. He was still in fairly good shape for his age, and his near daily trips to the library and park contributed greatly to that. "Yup, day two is the worst," Pat thought again as another car drove by him. Pat hurried along, desperate to lose himself in the quiet of the park and words of his book.
Pretty new RPer here so if you have any suggestions for improvement let me know.
General Bio
Name: Patrick Anderson
Age: 62
Gender: Male
Appearance: Pat stands at 5'10'' but is usually hunched over making him appear shorter. He weighs 150 pounds. He has deep wrinkles all over his face making him appear older than he actually is. His hear is a mix of gray and white and is kept quite short. He has a paler than normal skin tone. He commonly wears a sweater, usually of a darker color such as black, dark red, or dark green, with khakis, even in warm weather.
Superpower
Name of ability: Pain Manipulation
Description: Pat is able to cause any pain he feels to be felt by others. He can also (eventually) do this with other peoples pain as well. The pain is applied to the same part of the body Pat would feel it, so if Pat got shot in the arm, he could make other people feel as though they got shot in the arm.
Level one abilities: Anyone within two or three feet of Pat will feel a lesser version of whatever pain he is feeling. This aura is uncontrollable and will only turn off if he is knocked unconscious, although with effort the radius can be reduced. With focus, he can make a single person feel an equal amount of pain he is currently feeling.
Level three abilities: Pat can turn off the pain aura with minimal concentration. He can make several people feel an amount of pain equal to what his is feeling.
Level five abilities: Pat can radiate his pain to anyone within a large area around him. He can also cause other people to feel someone else's pain or lack of pain. This cannot apply to Pat himself.
Weakness/drawback: Until he gains true mastery of his power, it is fairly useless if he's not in any pain himself. It can not be used to kill in any way.
History
History: Pat was a pretty average person in his early years. His parents were farmers and he lived in a rural community on the countryside. He was quiet and well behaved in school, earning above average but not stellar marks, and spent his free time helping out with the chores at home or playing outside with some of his friends. After high school, he decided to move to the city, hoping to find a better job than his small town could provide. Ironically, he ended up accidentally following in his father's footsteps by becoming a gardener for one of the parks in the city. The park was by far Pat's favorite part of the city, his rural origins causing him to vastly prefer the greens of the park to the greys of the urban landscape. The pay wasn't great, but it was enough to afford an apartment near his worksite as well as frequent nights out with some friends at the local bar. This continued for many years and Pat was content, if a little bit bored, with his lifestyle. Everything changed on the day of his first migraine.
It started out as a day like any other. Pat got out of bed, poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down to watch the news on TV. After a few minutes of watching television he started to feel a headache coming on, but Pat just attributed it to still being sleepy after waking up and continued watching television. In a few more minutes, Pat had a throbbing headache. Thinking he had the flu, Pat got up to go phone in sick for work but at that moment the full force of the migraine struck. The searing pain he felt race through his head caused Pat's legs to give out as he collapsed back onto the couch. Pat lay curled up on the couch, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried to weather the storm but the pain continued. After almost an hour like this Pat decided he needed to get medical attention. He slowly got to his feet and staggered out of his apartment, where a neighbour found him and immediately called the ambulance. When Pat finally got to the hospital, the doctors gave him some painkillers, which dulled the pain a little, and told him the migraine should be gone within an hour. When the pain persisted they said it should be gone within the next few hours, then they said is should be gone by the end of the day. Six days of puzzled doctors and restless sleep later, the pain had finally faded away. The doctors explained it away as a freak migraine and that he should be fine to go back to work. Pat went back to work happily, joking about the experience with his coworkers and thought that the worst was behind him. Until two weeks later he had another one.
After that, Pat's time was nearly equally split between sitting in his house with the blinds drawn closed trying to get some sleep during a migraine and bouncing from puzzled doctor to puzzled doctor trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Each of the doctors would give him some knew drug to try, but the general consensus was no one knew what was causing the migraines. Over time, Pat became more and more closed off from the outside world. Unable to work, Pat lived off disability checks from the government and spent much of his time reading in his home or just sitting in the park. He had to take an obscene amount of pills every day to try and keep his pain under control. While the drugs dulled the pain and allowed Pat to preform most task during a migraine, they were a long way off from stopping it. Pat got more and more distant from his friends, unable to spend the time and energy necessary to keep the relationships going.
The day before the bus ride: Day two of the migraine. "Day two is always the worst." Pat thought to himself. In reality he thought this two himself the first day of the migraine and would likely tell himself this everyday until it ended. Pat knew all this, but somehow saying that the this day was the worst helped him carry on through the day, made him think it would be better soon. Pat slowly walked down the sidewalk, his hand in the pockets of his coat as he went along. It was ten in the morning and the streets were fairly quiet, or at least as quiet as they get in New York City. Loud noises increased the effects of a migraine, so traveling when there isn't much traffic became second nature for Pat. As Pat walked along, he could hear the rattle of the pill bottle in his pocket, shaking with every step he took. "A lot of help they are," Pat thought as the sound of a car driving by causes lances of pain to rush through his head. In his other pocket was the book he was currently reading, a fantasy novel almost a thousand pages long, a thin bookmark placed near the middle of it. The book was the reason for Pat's trek that morning as he planned to read it in the nearby park that he used to work at. The fresh air of the park always did more to help his migraine then pills ever did and the prospect of sitting down on a bench and continuing his novel was enough to get Pat to increase his pace. He was still in fairly good shape for his age, and his near daily trips to the library and park contributed greatly to that. "Yup, day two is the worst," Pat thought again as another car drove by him. Pat hurried along, desperate to lose himself in the quiet of the park and words of his book.
Pretty new RPer here so if you have any suggestions for improvement let me know.
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