KEEP YOUR DAYJOB [RESERVED] Apr 11, 2015 14:27:46 GMT -5
Post by Ray "East" Kraus on Apr 11, 2015 14:27:46 GMT -5
WE'RE WORKING JOBS, COLLECTING PAY
BELIEVE WE'RE GLIDING DOWN THE HIGHWAY WHEN IN FACT WE'RE SLIP SLIDING AWAY
Now is the winter of our discontent.
Looking dejectedly out the window of his room, the quote seemed an accurate representation of his life at the current moment. He selectively thought of only the first part of the quote, neglecting the next three lines, which transformed the meaning into something much more optimistic. To East, it was the winter of his discontent. It seemed as though his boots were always wet, his jacket was always sodden, and his fingers and toes were in a perpetual state of being half-frozen. To make matters worse, they still sent him out scouting in this weather. East couldn't figure out what the hell he was looking for out there, aside from blizzards and frostbite...
He rubbed his hands against his biceps and scowled. He could see his breath in the air of his room, for Christ's sake, and his current bed-mate was out hunting. After a moment's consideration, he decided he ought to move around, to keep from getting cold. With a red nose and numb hands East ventured into the hallway of the complex, where he paused. He could go scrounge up some food or bother his friends for a game of cards but something else had intrigued him more. It was the figure of Marcus, an interesting Fulsi whom East had not even talked to. Something about the man piqued his interest and, with the cold making him bold, East began to walk nonchalantly toward the man's room. He knocked casually on the door and slid around the bend of the hallway, awaiting to see if it was answered. When no reply came he returned to the front of it, retrieved a bobby-pin from his pocket, and set to unlocking it.
It was too easy, even with cold fingers. East smiled smugly, pleased that he was not too out of practice. He entered the room and closed the door behind him. He began to search haphazardly through Marcus' belongings, searching for nothing in particular. He did not intend to take anything, merely figure something out about the man from his possessions. He was surprised to discover that the entire endeavor gave him a slight thrill, something that he had not experienced for quite some time. Leon once told him that his downfall had become his apathy--there came a point when nothing thrilled East, not the drugs or the thefts.
Crouched at the bedside, East discovered a pair of handcuffs. He drew them up and held them, dangling, in front of him. One edge of his mouth tugged into a dangerous smile and his eyes, light brown, danced with a certain mischief. Well, East thought. He has more secrets than I thought.
It was an unspoken rule that anyone who owned handcuffs must be an interesting person.
It was at that precise moment he heard the door-knob turn. He stiffened, but it was too late to run. East turned to appraise the man himself. Despite the fact he did not actually feel guilty his expression immediately conformed into an expression of guilt. What could he say? Oops, I didn't mean to unlock your door and sneak into your room... I definitely didn't mean to search through your stuff and find your handcuffs... I don't know what happened...