#beryldonna

@beryldonna  He’s been here long enough he’s got the ground rules down.  Or at least, he’s got an idea of how things functioned, at least.  But it didn’t function well, not for him.  He was expected to grocery shop, to cook on his own.  Both things that he wasn’t quite sure how to do.  Sure he had been hunting.  It kept him fed, gave him the nutrients he’d need, sometimes kept instincts in check.  But it wouldn’t be enough in the long run, he’d probably get into trouble sooner or later for openly hunting the birds and other wildlife of the city.   He didn’t care personally, the name Convict was much more than for show, but it would be a pain to deal with if he got into any actual trouble.  He loathed eating, it only brought about pain- such was one of the burdens he had to carry with him.  But if he didn’t eat, then he would lack sustence and energy.  And he needed his poison ivy.  He chewed the thought of how to fix this and the only damned solution he could come up with was actually asking a stranger, he wanted nothing but to be unseen in the eyes of public, but he was forced to be part of a community, he should not be around civilians.  Eating a sigh, he tapped on the shoulder of a- is that what they called goths?  He didn’t keep up with current trends enough.  He just assumed this was a goth person.  “You know of the location where there is poison ivy I may pluck for my own usage correct?  I also require eggs, with shells.  Should you use your grocery shopping skills to buy them I will pay you back with the appropriate amount of dust”