T H E D A Y O F F. [ISAAC]

[JULIAN DRESDIN]

SAY MY NAME AND HIS IN THE SAME BREATH,
❥ I DARE YOU TO SAY THEY TASTE THE SAME

It wasn't often that Julian Dresdin, or, more commonly known simply as "The Tyrant", by his people, got to go outside for more than a few minutes at a time. Today was one of those rare days. Though it hadn't been easy. He had to heavily sedate his bodyguards to even make it out of the parking lot. Not to mention, that he'd have to have Colette hire a bunch of new security guards to guard the Capital. The Tyrant cracked his fingers. The old ones hadn't been much of a challenge, even if they hadn't even really been trying, since they probably would've been arrested and sentenced for the rest of their lives to prison. Oh well. All in good fun for him. And that's all that truly mattered. If the leader. No, the King of the United States was happy. Who cared about everyone else as long as he was happy?

As he strolled down the streets of downtown Detroit, he looked around at all the different vendors. It seemed that there was a stand or a vendor for pretty much everything. Clothes, candy, vegetables, meat.. He licked his lips, as he saw a classic hot dog vendor on a corner. For a moment, Dresdin was actually tempted to get one- but decided against it. It could be contaminated. Or perhaps poisoned. And that would be most unpleasant. So instead, he decided to look among the other shops and stands. Perhaps he would find something of interest there. Wandering around for awhile longer, he finally came across a small chocolate stand. While he could not stand most candy, at all, the Tyrant admittedly, had a sweet tooth for chocolate. Picking out a chocolate bar, and some sort of chocolate gum, or something, he payed for the food in cash and started to walk down the streets again, now eating his chocolate bar. Twenty minutes or so went by, and after finishing his chocolate bar, he moved onto the strangely delicious gum, leaning against a wall, keeping his head down, so no one could see his face. Though he figured that it didn't matter if he kept his head down or up, as The Tyrant had the feeling someone was watching him. He twitched a bit. Or perhaps not. He hoped not. He rather liked not being constantly stared, or glared at all the time, hoping that he wouldn't have them killed or something. While torturing people physically and verbally was all good fun on work days, Dresdin wanted to just, blend in today. Perhaps, the hobos could provide some good entertainment.

TAGGED isaac!
LYRICS I Don't Care by Fall Out Boy
COMMENTS This could go anywhere.. >D
CREDITS made by zingara of on the edge

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[ISAAC PENDRAGON]

CLOSE MY EYES, LET THE WHOLE THING PASS ME BY

[/color]

✂----[/color]there is no time to waste asking why[/size][/font][/center]

It was a cold day. Not that that was surprising, considering it was the middle of winter in Detroit, but it was hard to think about anything else when the only pair of gloves you owned were more hole than cloth. Isaac shrugged to himself and tucked his fingers into the opposite armpits, where they would be a little warmer. It wasn’t so cold that he was likely to freeze to death, or lose any fingers. If it was, he’d dip into the money he had stashed away and get a motel room for a night or two. But he preferred not to do that. He kept that money safe for a reason; you never knew when you’d really need it. And he wasn’t so attached to comfort that he couldn’t last a cold night or two on the streets.

A coin thunked into the paper cup he’d set out by his feet and Isaac glanced up long enough to bob his head in thanks at the kind passerby. He wasn’t the sort to have a sign or something like that; he put the cup out more as a ‘hey, if they’re feeling generous, why not?’ sort of thing. He had enough money from his information dealing to get by without relying on donations, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want them. Besides, he was curious to see how many people would donate out of the kindness of their hearts, without excessive solicitation. A sort of social experiment.

He steadfastly ignored the specter sitting next to him, this one a man with half his torso missing, blown off in the same incident that had left the huge burn scar all down Isaac’s left side. Someone who’d never been in a war could never understand how horrible minefields really were. Never knowing if the next step might be your last. Isaac had been caught in the edge of an explosion. His friend, who’d tripped the mine, had not been so lucky. Isaac had been off active duty for months afterward, and had only been back for a couple of weeks when he’d been discharged entirely.

It was a little dangerous being down here on main street, he supposed, right in the heart of the New Order’s control. They weren’t exactly friendly towards people like him; he’d been beaten up or interrogated by New Order goons way more often than he’d clashed with other homeless people, or even thieves or muggers. But hey, what was life without a little danger, right? It wasn’t like he had many other options to entertain himself. Besides, as long as you didn’t actively solicit donations, they were less likely to bother you. The most obnoxious beggars disappeared after a few days at most. Isaac wasn’t a beggar, exactly; he was simply a homeless man open to whatever someone might be willing to offer him in terms of money. He’d be a fool to refuse, after all. Even if in the end he usually ended up giving the money he got from ‘begging’ to the younger sort of street folk. They needed it more than he.

Isaac noticed a man eating some sort of candy nearby, but didn’t pay much attention to him. He leaned forward, plucking a couple of the coins out of the cup, and slipped them into his pocket. New Order types were more likely to give him a hard time if they thought he was being successful. ”Don’t want to go instigating, now do we, Martin?” he mumbled to the specter still sitting beside him. As usual, he got absolutely no response. Not that that stopped him from talking to them. He had an image to maintain, after all. Crazy people were the easiest to overlook, especially the ones who were quietly crazy, like Isaac. He sighed and settled further into his ratty old windbreaker. It was going to be a long winter.

tagged Julian
lyrics echo by trapt
notes woot woot ouo
credits made by crow of canvas of black wings

UNTIL THIS ECHO, ECHO, ECHO, ECHO IN MY MIND
UNTIL THIS ECHO, ECHO, ECHO, ECHO CAN SUBSIDE

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[JULIAN DRESDIN]

SAY MY NAME AND HIS IN THE SAME BREATH,
❥ I DARE YOU TO SAY THEY TASTE THE SAME

As he finished his candy bar, The Tyrant strolled towards a garbage can, and dumped the neon-coloured wrapper away. Tugging the hood of his favoured coat up, he slid sleek black shades over his eyes. Not that it actually helped much, since it was cloudy and irritatingly cold. But he figured it would conceal his obviously-different coloured eyes. Usually the eyes, or his voice was a dead give away to revealing his true identity. Not that he was necessarily hiding it, but he assumed since there were so many people who openly opposed him and his authority, that it would be dumb of him to scream into the middle of town, who he was and such. Who knew how high the Resistance was willing to take him out? Dresdin had certainly gotten enough death threats from their leader, Eria Hatem. Sometimes he'd just read them before bed to give himself a good laugh. Always best for the last thought of the day to be something funny, right?

Looking around, Julian noticed out of the corner of his eye, a man with black hair slumped against the wall, looking and talking to the air, as if someone was there. How... Peculiar. He figured the man to be a homeless one, since his clothes were slightly tattered and he had a Styrofoam cup out in front of him. Making his way over to the man, Dresdin began to get a better look at the man's features. The first thing that stuck out was that he just kinda looked; tired. Tired of everything, and possibly life. Either that, or he didn't get enough sleep the night before. It could certainly be that. He knew he hadn't. While living underground was safer for the time being, it was rather cold. And the damn heater hadn't been working like it should've, so he had to put on several blankets to stay warm and cozy. He had the guy who sold him the radiator imprisoned for about five years. Was the best thing really. His wife was ugly anyway. Standing in front of the man, The Tyrant shoved his hands in his pockets, and blinked, just catching the last of what the man had said. ”Don’t want to go instigating, now do we, Martin?”

The Tyrant cocked his head. Who the hell was Martin? His name wasn't Martin. Licking his lips, the black-haired dictator leaned over, and got a whiff of this man's scent. He blinked. "How peculiar. You smell like raspberries." he commented. Hrm. It wasn't everyday that you met a homeless guy who smelled like raspberries. Usually they smelled something much fouler than that. Like gym socks or something. This could be interesting.

TAGGED isaac!
LYRICS I Don't Care by Fall Out Boy
COMMENTS This just might end up like IC. ewe
CREDITS made by zingara of on the edge

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[ISAAC PENDRAGON]

CLOSE MY EYES, LET THE WHOLE THING PASS ME BY

[/color]

✂----[/color]there is no time to waste asking why[/size][/font][/center]

Isaac blinked as he noticed a man standing in front of him, hood pulled up over his head and wearing shades. Shades? On a cold, not-so-sunny winter day like today? That was peculiar, to be sure, as was the odd amount of attention he was paying Isaac. Though it was difficult to tell with the man’s eyes concealed behind his glasses, he seemed to be studying Isaac rather intently. Which was… odd. Not that Isaac was one to judge, but in general if people acknowledged his existence at all, it was by pointedly not looking at him, or giving him a quick, ashamed glance as they hurried past. Many seemed to think he blamed them for their lack of a donation, when he really didn’t. These were tough times. He understood that many felt they needed to look out for themselves before even thinking about helping others.

Point being that very few were bold enough to stop and study a homeless person, as if they thought the bum would attack them or something, or perhaps they’d catch the bum-ness and become homeless themselves. That thought amused Isaac slightly, the idea what homelessness was something that spread like a virus. Sure it ran in trends – economic issues tended to up the number of homeless in any given city – but it didn’t spread or anything like that, though the way some people avoided people like Isaac you’d think it did. He shook his head slightly. People could be very strange sometimes.

But this guy was completely shameless, not that that was necessarily a bad thing. He leaned down and took a whiff of Isaac, causing the ex-soldier to raise an eyebrow curiously. Okay, that was officially one of the strangest things that had happened to him in a while. Not only had this guy stopped and actually acknowledged him (not to mention stared at him for a minute or two, which might have been prompted by the guy hearing Isaac talk to his latest specter), but now he’d gone and sniffed him. Didn’t this man know that homeless people generally smelled bad? Isaac blinked a few times, trying to decide how to respond to that, when the man commented that he smelled like raspberries, derailing Isaac’s train of thought. Raspberries? Now that was just peculiar. And the voice seemed familiar somehow, though Isaac couldn’t quite place it. He knew he’d heard it before, somewhere. He just couldn’t place where.

After a moment of confusion, Isaac shrugged mentally and raised his arm slightly, removing his fingers from his armpit long enough to give it a sniff. He blinked. ”Huh. So I do. That’s strange.” It wasn’t like he’d fallen into a berry stand or something recently. Maybe somebody had sprayed him with air freshener when he was dozing or something; he couldn’t think of any other explanation for that particular scent. He pondered for a minute, then looked up at the stranger and shrugged, giving a slightly sheepish grin. ”Well, I suppose there are much worse things to smell like than raspberries, yeah?” he pointed out. He wondered if the guy was going to hang around, or, having made his odd observation, go on with his day. He sort of hoped the former; he was certainly an interesting fellow, and Isaac wanted to see if he could remember where he’d heard that voice.


tagged Julian
lyrics echo by trapt
notes it might .3.
credits made by crow of canvas of black wings

UNTIL THIS ECHO, ECHO, ECHO, ECHO IN MY MIND
UNTIL THIS ECHO, ECHO, ECHO, ECHO CAN SUBSIDE

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