The boy is back in town

[constantprisoner]

[A]
After years of imprisonment, freedom is amazing.

Even now, even though it's been a few days, he still can't get over the feeling of being back in the world. Being around people and breathing fresh air (as fresh as a city can manage anyway). Sirius trots along the street and back alleys, keeping up the act as a stray dog and generally trying not to be noticed. He'd forgotten how easy it was.

However, his ability to enjoy himself is currently at war with the realization that he's pretty vulnerable. It's been twelve years and he really has no information about what the city is like. He has no idea if he has any friends left, or if there's anyone in this city who would be willing to help him. He needs allies, he needs information, he needs clothes.

Food should probably be added to that list now. Sirius can't recall the last time he ate a decent meal. (not counting the garbage can he raided out of desperation).

For now though, he needs rest. He's been on the run constantly and all of that energy has finally caught up with him. He collapses under a tree in a park, and from a distance, it might look like he's dead.

[B]

Information and allies will likely have to wait for a bit until Sirius can reorient himself in the city. Clothes and food, however, are slightly more accessible. Thankfully someone's got their laundry out on the line, and he can smell a few things from a garbage that he would be able to stomach. Desperate times call for desperate measures that he's actually thinking of doing that a second time.

[ooc: Sirius can be caught doing either in Option B]

Comments

[alethiological]

There's a single raised eyebrow here, because of all the defenses to use... It's that there's nothing interesting. That is the single most flimsy defense to ever come out of a hobo he's met, and he's been to the New York subways. Such a rare event is worth some type of medal. Probably.

Or not. Sirius gets a sigh. "Because you're looting an apartment of broke bastards."

Which is all the worse off for him because this guy's even more of a broke bastard than the other broke bastards around here, and how many have walked past without caring, without even acknowledging it. Humans are assholes.

Situational analysis: he is not (as much of) a broke bastard, there's two hours to burn before the Hillingdon check-up, and turning away from someone who could use assistance is forbidden. But most importantly, he doesn't want to dump garbage on top of an already messed-up hobo. There's being rude and then there's being rude, honestly now, "Get out of the dumpster and I'll buy you lunch."

[constantprisoner]

Sirius blinks. That certainly wasn't the offer he was expecting.

"Honestly?" He says as he climbs out, "Because I'd really appreciate that. And for the record, I would only have gone as far as your dumpster."

The last thing he needed was more crime on his record after all.

[alethiological]

Some might have preferred to reinforce how they're different, they're not a liar like other people, the usual blind claims. Sirius doesn't get anything except a garbage bag tossed over his head once he's out of the dumpster climbs out.

"Honestly. I don't care about the record. Who calls the cops on someone trying to live."

Probably a rich asshole who's never had to worry about anything in their lives except themselves. Sigh, humanity. But the point was made, so no need to follow it up. "There's a place a block over. Get whatever you want."

[constantprisoner]

Quite a lot of people, Sirius thinks, considering the adventure he had getting here. And that was just as a dog. (Who was probably making too much noise and acting a tad suspicious but still).

He nods, turning to head out into the alley, pulling his hood up as he does so. After a moment he turns back, his expression not entirely unlike a dog looking back at it's owner.

"Are you coming? It's a little embarrassing to have to ask for anything."

sorry for being slow life is a butt

[alethiological]

Don't tell him that, he's still content being the angriest positive thinker. The auto-pilot blinders are already back on, taking the moment to throw the trash bag away. Then pass the hobo forty quid, finish cleaning upstairs, scold ghost girl for breaking the lightbulbs, a mental list firing off just as the question is asked.

The turn to face Sirius is a moment where 'no' is about to fired off at point blank, but. The face. And the face comes with tiny ghosts of embarrassmentnotshame slight shock? helpful people so rare gratitudegratitude-- It's all muted waves crashing on a cliff face; while the rocks give no quarter, that doesn't mean they feel nothing.

"Yeah, I'm going," with an unchanging tone and unchanging expression. There was never a question in the first place. Obviously. "Unless you wanted me to bring broken lightbulbs to a restaurant."

Because too bad.

No worries

[constantprisoner]

"That'd be up to you, if you wanted to bring them along," Sirius replies, smirking only slightly. "I personally don't care either way."

He's in no position to judge at this point.

He turns to head out of the alley.