#zelos01

Watching his step was the very first thing Mike had always put on the front of his mind. He had always been told growing up that he should watch his step, not wanting to crash directly into someone and ruin their day. But, for once- that seemed to be the very last thing on his mind, as Mike wandered throughout the quiet streets, looking up towards various buildings silently and in sheer curiosity.

It doesn’t take much longer, however, for Mike to not realize where he’s stepping. His foot comes into contact with rubble below him that he didn’t happen to notice, and he’s quick to fall forwards without any time to have a proper reaction. 

“Shit-!” 

He expects the fall to be hard-- but it’s rather...soft, actually, and he’s confused until he looks to see what he’s fallen on, someone who he hadn’t noticed was even there with him. Mike is quick to pull himself off of the stranger and sit on the floor where he fell, looking anywhere but towards the other with a light red tint on his face out of sheer embarrassment.

There’s one thing about being a serial killer and not yet having the chance to kill. 

Sure, it was nice to sit back and relax, sit away from that life for a few weeks and just find something else to do for a bit. But it was starting to get boring. He could fight it back all he wanted to, but the urge to taunt someone and take them down, make them his was getting impossible to ignore. 

He sat at a table inside of an empty restaurant, poking at the food he had ordered for himself idly with his index finger. He stared at the plastic claws on his hand, pulling each of them down individually as slowly as he could down to his wrist, trying to see if it’d feel at all any familiar...it didn’t. Even if he wanted to kill, he couldn’t even use his main weapon- it wouldn’t have been worth it. With a loud, exaggerated sigh, Freddy raised up his hand and rested his cheek against it, a pout formed on his lips. He pushed his food back and forth, not intending to eat it. 

Today she has to be nothing but Bethany Hawke, woman carrying a cardboard box from the train station to her cousin’s mansion. Moving in by taxi might have been easier, but she’s taken her time about it; carting over a box or two every couple of days has given her the chance to adjust to the idea of living the life she dreamed of so many years ago. The life she could taste before the blight took her.

The woman moving into a mansion today isn’t the girl who fantasized about life in her mother’s reclaimed ancestral home, but for once, that’s alright. For once, it doesn’t feel as though she has to be.

It’s as they’re passing an alleyway that her little Vulpix, who’d been content up to now to ride in the box as if she weighed as little as the clothes in it, jumped out and charged for the alley.

“Hey — !” But it doesn’t take Bethany long to find the source of her companion’s distress; the box in her hands immediately falls, unheeded, as she hurtles a fireball at a group of men trying to break into a building through the security door.

Fortunately, the fireball succeeds in stopping the criminals.

Unfortunately, it’s very awkward to be standing over a pile of smoldering remains with your Pokemon when a stranger steps into the entrance of the alley. “For the record, there’s absolutely a great explanation for this.”

Hauling a CRT TV out on the sidewalk was a pain in the neck.

Guy carefully unfolds the piece of paper clutched in his hands, eyes scanning over the address scrawled upon it. Someone had told him a Mr. Zelos Wilder was looking for someone to take an old television off his hands. It would be a shame for it to go straight into a garbage heap.

After all, imagine how many racks he’d be able to fit inside the machine’s shell. That was a lot of bread one person could toast a time.

He raps on the door twice while double-checking the piece of paper, just in case. His other hand rested on the handle of the trolley he’d brought with him.

“Guy Cecil here for your old TV!” he called from outside the door.