09-03-2008, 01:11 AM
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Day by day, Ahren was getting better. It was a gradual process, and one that involved no small amount of self discipline from himself. The smoking had picked up again, but he was glad for the familiar taste and feeling in his chest. In many ways, he was still an addict, though the cigarettes were not the only thing. He had given up on one drug for another, perhaps even two. The violence though, that was all right. The people he went after deserved it; by this logic, anyone and everyone was a target.
“Ain’t so saints without sinners,” he chuckled to himself, and continued along his merry way.
That was something he had realized he was doing. Talking to himself, that was. It was an idle habit, like playing with his hair or the tongue ring. He recalled reading or hearing that only crazy people talked to themselves.
“Ja, ja,” the blonde snorted, and noticed that a familiar form was approaching. Well aware of their last meeting (from the stories, at lonely slighsmiled thinly, realizing he had to look less out of place now with the shorts and the belt carrying all of his worldly possessions; all that was missing was the crossbow. Advancing easily, the blonde studied the toys in the wagon and kept that half-cocked, half-mad smile on his face.
“Starting a band, Laurel?”
Day by day, Ahren was getting better. It was a gradual process, and one that involved no small amount of self discipline from himself. The smoking had picked up again, but he was glad for the familiar taste and feeling in his chest. In many ways, he was still an addict, though the cigarettes were not the only thing. He had given up on one drug for another, perhaps even two. The violence though, that was all right. The people he went after deserved it; by this logic, anyone and everyone was a target.
“Ain’t so saints without sinners,” he chuckled to himself, and continued along his merry way.
That was something he had realized he was doing. Talking to himself, that was. It was an idle habit, like playing with his hair or the tongue ring. He recalled reading or hearing that only crazy people talked to themselves.
“Ja, ja,” the blonde snorted, and noticed that a familiar form was approaching. Well aware of their last meeting (from the stories, at lonely slighsmiled thinly, realizing he had to look less out of place now with the shorts and the belt carrying all of his worldly possessions; all that was missing was the crossbow. Advancing easily, the blonde studied the toys in the wagon and kept that half-cocked, half-mad smile on his face.
“Starting a band, Laurel?”