Just Push It (OPEN/Esp. Vamps or Werewolves, but Anyone) Jun 17, 2017 9:39:38 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2017 9:39:38 GMT -6
It was an odd side effect, but since returning from Japan he had taken in interest in the grittier side of London. Something about being rescued from the tendrils of a tsunami left him with a deeper kinship with the reminders of mortality. Cristal understood, - gods. Cristal. He was agnostic, and perfectly content, but she was a godsend. He didn't believe he would have been alive without her, caught up in the survivor's guilt. That was a different sort of morass and not to be underestimated. He understood that now. Sunlight was brighter, thunderstorms more visceral, bricks redder and the joy of life more raw. He could weather the cold now, the sadness, that mind-sucking emptiness too, or he would get good. That was head game. And it helped that he was spending part of his time every weekend at a local shelter for survivors of domestic abuse. The few hours he spent every weekend helping out left him slightly cool and the walk that he took home helped him clear the ghosts. before he arrived home. He passed an alley two blocks from the flat - and paused. There was a flicker of motion too large to be an alley cat, too fast to be a person. Quentin stopped and turned back. "Hello? Someone there?" He toed the edge where the cement met the cobble of one of London's old alleys. He had done a ghost tour of London with Cristal before he left for Japan, part of an elaborate going away adventure. He remembered the stories. Jack the Ripper, and more recently the underground killer. Quentin wasn't superstitious. Just pragmatic. And cautious. It was nine in the evening, and the street light was down the block and - why was he stopping? But then he heard a noise from the alley, a rasp or a whisper or a moan? Quentin stumbled back. If it was that, he didn't want to be anywhere near there.