[ Starter for @mr-lightningbolt ;; Neighborhood ]
Gregor takes a long drag off his smoke, quietly watching the facsimiles of people march their way on by. He remembers vacantly that he'd used to cater to them and their reactions the first time he came here, the way they'd talked and acted and scurried around. It's hard to muster the energy for that kind of playing around now, as much as it'd made him feel good then. Almost normal, like if he just put his nose to the grindstone all of his issues could be changed.
The long and sharp end of his insectile arm hangs limply over the edge of the porch railing, dust and dirt collecting with every gust of wind that pulls it from the floor and into his eyes. It effectively wards a lot of them off from meandering too close to Gregor while he's at least trying to relax in this shithole district. He blandly watches them as the majority skirt or change directions as they realize their pathways are going to bring them a little too close to Gregor.
Gregor blinks.
There's a man coming down the way that doesn't make the same predictably looping route to the other side of the street.
Helps that he looks kind of weird next to most of the cardboard cutout people, all white hair and downright bizarre looking symmetrical… scars? It's hard to tell at a distance what's going on with his face, but it doesn't seem normal. And 'not normal' is about as much as he needs to pin someone else as a person.
"Well hey there, neighbor." He idly flicks the ash off the end of his cigarette and brushes at his right arm again, dust puffing off of the blade in a thick clump. It's so damn itchy out here…
"Nice day for a walk?"
He really doesn't think it is, but he's at least trying to be cordial.
