outside_omens | (no subject)

Date: June 25, 2000
Setting: London
Status: Public
Summary: Pollution sets up shop.

It was a propertly dark and stormy night, as one would expect. Rain lashed at closed and boarded up windows, thunder crashed and echoed against the decrepate buildings. In between two of these buildings, was a wide ally way in which whores of both sexes, desperate for a bit of money, gathered without any real hope for work. Not on a night like this.A man sat huddled over himself to try and keep warm as he sat on the ground. The only one on the street who didn't seem to be bothered by the cold was a young man in a dirty white jacket. Any passerby and all the inhabitents of the ally would assume the boy was high, from the way, though his eyes watched the street, was unfocused, as though he was not all there.

Either he was high or insane, they thought. And gave it no other thought. The boy was well know in this seedy part of London. The drugs he sold were cheep and of a good quality. And, though perhaps it was just rumors, but no one who bought from him had ever gotten busted. With his drugs, that is.

The boy was known as White, because of his jacket. White liked selling these pollutants. Humans were so eager for them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

White blinked at Delirium, watching her. He wasn't sure if he wanted her messing with the man. He was one of his customers; when he he had the money, that is.

Delirium hummed tunelessly to herself and rocked. She waited until she felt her influence take place, until she knew that a feverish smile had spread across the man's face.

Then she looked up, delibrately locking her mismatched gaze with the other personification and merrily stuck her tongue out.

Pollution sat back, startled at such a show. "Do I know you?" he asked, voice sliding out of his mouth like sludge. His head tilted. "I'm sure I'd remember you," he mused. "But I don't... You're familar." She felt familar too.