The dark, misty street stretched on in front of him, as foreboding as any horror movie setting he had ever seen. The gloomy road might as well have been the path to certain death, as far Florian was concerned, and he had no desire to walk it. But, what choice was he left with, now that he was a fugitive? A wrongdoer? A criminal? He would've much preferred to go home and crawl beneath the warm blankets on his bed, curl up under the covers and savor in the heat, relax against the soft mattress and forget about this while ordeal altogether. But he was an outlaw, and there would be no going back to his normal life.
Not now. Not ever.
It was flee or face public execution, and the last horrified him beyond words. His only choice was to run and pray that he could make it to the city wall before the authorities found him out. His parents would be beyond disappointed to discover that their eighteen-year-old son, their precious boy who had been so kind for all these years, had murdered a man, and he couldn't bear to hang around and see their reactions.
Florian shivered once against the cold as he hurried forward through the night, nearing the outer wall. His heart pounded in his chest like a drum in a hard-rock song, threatening to burst altogether. What was he do to once he made it to the perimeter? Hoist himself over and disappear into the forest? He'd never survive. He wasn't an outdoorsman. But starving in the wilderness was more appealing than the mortifying death that awaited him in the city.
(Two of my favorite roleplayers in a roleplay? I'm stalking, I hope you don't mind.)
(I don't mind. I'm amazed I'm already one of your favorite role-players. Thank you.)
(Of course! I love reading your stuff, even if we've never roleplayed before.)
(Thank you so much! That's one of the best compliments I could possibly receive. I haven't read your stuff yet, but when I do, I'll probably enjoy it.)
(YAY PYRO IS HERE :D)
Miriam had never been one to dabble in the affairs of others, but seeing the son of one of the richest families in this forsaken city fleeing through the slums like a madman was enough to capture her attention. She first spotted him from the balcony of her shabby apartment, as she leaned against the railing and attempted to enjoy the cool night breeze. It was a weird sight, the wealthy boy running like that. To see someone of importance in a place like this seemed more likely than spotting Bigfoot himself. Anybody who was anybody avoided these parts of town, the outskirts, so why was this kid here? Was he being chased, maybe by a thief or kidnapper? Miriam quickly realized that the answer was a frank no. But he was hecking booking it, headed towards the edge of town.
How could she resist the urge to investigate?
She climbed down from her balcony and started after him silently, unable to deny her curiosity.
(Sorry this is wonk :') )
Florian's breath quickened as he neared the wall. It had been years since he'd actually seen it up close, and as the distance between himself and the massive structure shrank, the larger and more foreboding it seemed. He stopped several feet in front of it, doubling over and resting his hands on his knees. He gulped air down quickly, panting and perspiring from his run. He wasn't used to such physical activities, but if he expected to survive more than an hour outside of the city, he'd best make it part of his lifestyle.
If he even got the chance to leave the city.
He straightened himself and squinted at the wall. It was so much larger than he had remembered, and suddenly he was only two-inches tall. His heart leapt into his throat, his situation growing more dire. If he could not escape, that meant game over. A drawn-out, humiliating death for breaking the rules of the city. He shuddered as cold sweat trickled down his back and stepped closer to the wall, placing a hand against the rough concrete. There was no way he could scale it. He didn't have the upper body strength nor the agility to make such a daring climb.
Was that it, then? Was he doomed?
Tears sprang to his eyes, but he blinked them away. His mind raced, desperately trying to grab onto any idea. Perhaps he could follow the wall, and hope for an opening? Maybe fate would have mercy on him and allow him to find a way out?
Oh, who was he kidding? Fate would never have mercy on a murderer.
Miriam slowed down when the boy she was following reached the wall, fully aware that he didn't have many other places to go, and that he was totally winded. Miriam would've been, too, if she hadn't spent so much of her life running.
She ducked behind the corner of an old brick building and peeked around to watch him for a moment. Yeah, he was definitely that rich kid. Miriam couldn't recall his first name, only that he was the son of the Fairbanks.
But she still couldn't figure out why he was here, or why he had such interest in the wall.
Unless…
Since he didn't look remotely threatening and she had a trusty switchblade in her pocket, she stepped out from her hiding place and started towards him at a calm pace.
"Yo, Fairbanks," she called from about thirty feet away, her voice echoing through the empty alley where they stood. "You're not thinking of getting past that wall, are you?"
Florian started and whirled around, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated, as if he were a crazed, terrified animal— though an unintimidating one, at that. He was the equivalent of such, after all. He didn't recognize the strange girl, nor did he understand how she could've possibly recognized him. Perhaps it was his clothing? The expensive collared shirt, and the clean-pressed dark jeans? Or maybe it was his thick, white-blond curls— a trait that ran in his family— that betrayed him? Maybe he had met her before, but had forgotten her name? Regardless of how she recognized him, she did recognize him, and that in itself was a huge problem. Especially since she was yelling his name in the night. He only hoped she couldn't see the speckles of blood marking his sleeve's cuffs, but the darkness reassured him that such a detail would remain hidden in the shadows.
"Stay away from me," he snapped, hoping to sound menacing but coming across only as pitiful when his voice quavered.
"Calm down. I just asked you a question," Miriam responded, not taking her eyes off of him. She became hyper-aware of the switchblade in her pocket. Maybe he didn't look dangerous, but people do a lot of crazy things when they're scared, and this boy seemed terrified. "And you didn't answer." She took that, in short, as a yes.
(I'm so sorry for the lack of response; I've been incredibly booked and I haven't had the chance to post yet.)
((Yea dude don't worry I've been missing for like the past several weeks so… take your time cuz I'm definitely taking mine. XD :) ))
Heat rushed to Florian's face, mostly from fear and her insinuation that he planned to pass the wall— which, he did. But the last thing he needed was some girl off the street to find out and go tell the authorities of his activity. Prison didn't appeal to him. Neither did the gallows.
"So what if I am?" he bit back with as much acid in his voice as he could muster. "I don't see what difference that makes to you."
"It doesn't make one, if we're being honest." Unless, of course, there was a bounty on his head— or a ransom for his safe return. Considering how prominent his family was, there was a good chance keeping this kid from getting past that wall could mean a fat wad of cash for Miriam.
"Except that you won't last five seconds once you're on the other side. Haven't you heard how dangerous it is?"
