[ it isn't like he's really guilty -- he's seen a little of what shiro's capable of. but there's a sense that he isn't behaving as well as he ought, and that keeps him quiet, his grip measured as he steers up the dawn-reddened street. there's a space between two cars, just beneath a cracked lamp, cramped but doable. he turns his head, keeps an eye on the bumper as he veers into it, and parks.
only then does he seem to look around, considering: the sleepy grey buildings, every window still unlit in their hooded steel frames; a lone figure staggering along the crosswalk at the mouth of the street. ]
This is it?
[ for a town overrun with mobs, this part looks pretty dull. ]
no subject
only then does he seem to look around, considering: the sleepy grey buildings, every window still unlit in their hooded steel frames; a lone figure staggering along the crosswalk at the mouth of the street. ]
This is it?
[ for a town overrun with mobs, this part looks pretty dull. ]