Encounterlogs
Williams Odd Encounter Sr Isolde 241117
In a surreal encounter in a parking lot, William stumbles upon a confrontation between a menacing man claiming to be a knight named Dahvidd and a strong-willed woman. Dahvidd, clad in sewer-stained leathers and wielding a greathammer, demands a duel over a 'sick creature' he believes to be trapped inside the woman's pink Prius. Mistaking the car itself for a living beast due to his primitive understanding, Dahvidd's presence escalates the situation into a bizarre spectacle. The woman, unfazed by Dahvidd's theatrics, seeks William's help to call the authorities as she attempts to defuse the tension. Meanwhile, William, battling illness and confusion, tries to make sense of the odd claim about the car being a creature and assesses whether to engage further or seek help.
As the standoff continues, a peculiar parade led by a man in an animal duster and red sunglasses arrives, bringing with it an element of the absurd with their motley vehicles and attire. This caravan stops to witness the spectacle, with Dahvidd dramatically kneeling in defeat when they arrive. Throughout this odd event, William decides to retreat, dialing 911 to report the wildling's presence, leaving the resolution of this strange encounter to the authorities. The woman, seizing the opportunity, drives off in her Prius, leaving behind a scene that blends the lines between fantasy and reality. William, overwhelmed by the day's events, retreats to the safety of an alley, reaffirming the day's absurdity as something far too peculiar for his liking.
(William's odd encounter(SRIsolde):SRIsolde)
[Sat Nov 16 2024]
In the wood between worlds
The interior of the building is draped lavishly in clothing of all sorts
and rotary racks pepper the bulk of the available space like multicolored
trees. The walls here are obscured with wood paneling from which hangs can
be attached to display individual items and the floor is likewise hardwood.
The floor plan of the interior of the thrift shop channels customers through
this central location from which the rest of the store can be accessed. The
area is marked with a prominent lamp post doubling as a street sign. The
two paths leading out from it are marked in delicate gold as Witch's Castle
to the north and Cair Paravel to the south. The sections are stocked
primarily with outerwear and formal wear respectively with a transition in
the center. The color scheme changes dark to warm as it transitions to the
south, but is done in whites and silvers to the west.
It is afternoon, about 44F(6C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target and their allies encounter the former thrall of a vampire who's become accidentally separated from their master. Likely mind controlled into complete devotion the thrall wants nothing more than to return. It is up to the characters to either help them do so, or prevent them from doing so.
)
Winter has come to The Elm Street Parking Lot. -Not in the ways of snow, not yet, anyway, but in the cold. A brisk wind picks at the warmth offered to this space, making it desolate.
A man dressed in sewer-stained leathers with a jaw that is not so much as chiseled as the anvil by which one hammers; underbite, with skin that shrinks in hunger. A coif that has seen battles with foliage and dirt sits atop his head, covering his hair. He looms over a bright pink Prius, where tall woman rakes her hand through her hair.
"Bring me your second!" The man bellows, yet sickness can be heard straining at his voice.
William comes out through the door of the apartments, closing it behind him. Glancing at his black car for a couple seconds, always parked straight by the door in the alley, rather than in the parking lot. But this time, for some reason, he decides to go around, to walk for once. He had been doing a lot of that lately, truth be told.
Seemingly mostly unbothered by the cold that seems to have everyone switch into heavier clothing, William wears lighter clothes, still sticking to shirts and the such despite the low temperatures, he was barely seen using his coat anymore nowadays. Maybe something had changed, maybe he had just been raised in a cold place. But that wasn't too important right now.
Calmly and with a slow step, he glances around the parking lot as he walks into it, from his house, it was either that, or going into the forest, and the second one wasn't ideal. Eyes roaming around like they normally did, trying to take in anyone around the place. But his posture seems much more calm, or slacking at that, he was clearly sick by the look on his face, tired and gaunt. And the way he walked or the not so straight lean of his back gave away his lack of energy
The woman, built like a wrestler but groomed for a long day of walking in circles at the mall shouts across the hood, Take a second STICK up your ASS, moron!
Vile, indecency! I will accept no poison from the tongue, BRING ME YOUR SECOND! He pounds a greathammer into the concrete, cracking the pavement.
The woman looks past him, and shouts out to William HEY! CAN YOU CALL NINE-ONE-ONE? THIS PRICK IS TRYING TO TAKE MY CAR!
AHHH, that name you say again! HAH! He turns around, eyeing William. Are you the bearer? Where is your horn?
The woman, built like a wrestler but groomed for a long day of walking in circles at the mall shouts across the hood, "Take a second STICK up your ASS, moron!"
"Vile, indecency! I will accept no poison from the tongue, BRING ME YOUR SECOND!" He pounds a greathammer into the concrete, cracking the pavement.
The woman looks past him, and shouts out to William "HEY! CAN YOU CALL NINE-ONE-ONE? THIS PRICK IS TRYING TO TAKE MY CAR!"
"AHHH, that name you say again! HAH!" He turns around, eyeing William. "Are you the bearer? Where is your horn?"
A strong breeze quiets his voice, which, though shouted, still calls out from an awkward 50ft away.
William tilts his head in confusion, looking curiously between the woman and the armed man, one brow perked up in question, clearly missing some context from whatever was going on between the two, but reaching for his phone with one hand to make sure in case of emergency he could shoot out some quick message or call
"I-" His eyes move from the woman to the man, free hand pointing a thumb towards the wall right next to his, right from the alley he had just came out from, walking a bit closer so that his voice could be heard "You know a Deputy resides right there, right? Do you think it's a good idea to rob a vehicle and flaunt weapons right here?"
"I AM NOT SOME BRIGAND!" The man bellows, then coughs with effort. "The tiny beast inside her carriage is SICK! I steal NOTHING- I, Dahvidd squired and questing on the path of Lord Mack of House Moore- have accepted HER honorable duel."
"I ASKED if you wanted to fight- IT'S NOT-" The woman begins
"A SLIGHT OF FALSE COMBAT IS NOT TO BE TAKEN. BACK." He spits over his shoulder, then turns once again to regard William, "Let this 'deputy' test their force upon my honor, I will not fall."
A homeless man across the street calls out intelligibley in the distance. His words to not traverse coherency, just some drunk happy reverence.
William quirks his other eyebrow, shaking his head to the man "I don't think that's how deputies work, no..." There's a sigh coming from his mouth, clearly tired, maybe not only physically, but also at the idea of having to deal with things like these "So, Lord Mack of the Moores... And you say someone is sick?" His eyes now moving towards the car, but he doesn't step closer, instead he prompts the man to do so "Alright, can you come over here, and explain this in a way that doesn't seem you've lost your mind? Wielding a weapon in public and threatening with duels to people you don't know?"
"I HAVE NOT LOST MY MIND!" The man screams in a tone that does not display the veracity of that statement, "I am LONG quested, fool! Long waylaid, journeyed, battle worn, and harried in places YOU shall never know!" His voice hisses, yet carries. He readies his hammer over his shoulder, "The black knights have come to chase me in their WAILING and CRYING steeds that flash the colors of Red and Blue! I have found purchase in the STINK of this fowl city, underground from their purchase- I have maneuvered and sacrificed MUCH for my cause- so do NOT ramble about the state of my mind! Nay- she shall surely ride off with her whimpering creature under foot if I approach you- No, this I shall not do- you shall become my second, or call one, or I SHALL BREAK THE CREATURE OUT OF THIS SHELL MYSELF!"
William lets out another tired exhales, shaking his head to the sides slowly "Sure, I will not speak of the state of your mind... Become your second what exactly? And what exactly is this sick creature you are trying to... Protect? I'm assuming?"
But despite his words, William doesn't really get closer to the man, staying at a distance given how the weapon was readied, and the unwillingness to seemingly talk things out. He tries to look from afar to try and see whatever is within the car, but he keeps a close eye on the hammer-holding stranger
The car, in all of its electric majesty, shows nothing in ordinary aside from a crack atop the corner of its windshield. A fine blow from a small pebble- a tale of a little David striking the large goliath and falling. It's the heraldry that's caught, muddied and dirt-wridden in a tabbard across his chest, is the half shape sigil of the Kingdom of Nar. The man is not of this place. "I.. I-" The man pants, "N-NO er, HER second- a duel. A great joust if you are of a class to provide them, or in terms of your choosing if you cannot."
The woman quietly opens the rear door of her car and begins to slide inside.
William watches the woman for a second or two, only out of the corner of his eyes, not trying to draw attention to her but also questioning whether her action is a good idea or not "Right... A duel..." He comments as his eyes returns to the man, focusing on the sigil for a second or two. He had seen it somewhere, but he didn't recall where, it might take him a moment to make the connection.
"Of course... And what is this sick creature you claim that is inside her car? A pet? Maybe a child?"
"A great beast!" He declares, "Ohhhh erlong before this- we did hear- we did know of the mighty roars of carriage'd beasts of this place. A babe? NAY! It is mighty companion by which the tools of war have closed around their neck." The man bites back a snarl, looking askance to the ground, "This one is sick, for its roar is near silent- I saw it pass on the street, and gave chase."
William finds himself now dumbfound. His eyes open wider slowly, almost as if the realization was taking its sweet time to sink in, pupils swapping between staring at him and taking a peek at the car itself. Hands crawling up to rub at the lower half of his face, covering his mouth and slowly dragging downwards to his chin before uncovering it.
"You're talking about the car..." He almost mutters, it doesn't seem directed at the stranger, but it's more verbalizing the realization "You're-" That's when he realizes where he saw the symbol, probably a book or two, making the connection. This was a wildling, primitive, unknowing of what a car actually was. There is a moment of assessment there. It was an electric car, that probably was what he was talking about, but did he want to go over the explanation with someone so technologically far behind? Probably not.
No, it was probably safer to just give him some answer that made him forget there is an issue, and when he's gone contact someone like 911 as the woman suggested to make sure he didn't cause trouble, but not in front of him, nothing that could be seen as a threat "Oh, no, you see... This beast in particular, it's a new breed... Recently discovered, these creatures are far more sneaky than most, silent as they move around, barely making any sounds at all- It is not seek, it just isn't as noisy in its ministrations as the rest"
The man's jaw clenches, but his eyes widen in shock. He turns on the vehicle, the woman freezing in the backseat as she sees the movement. "It is what? A new breed?" He holds out a hand gently, this closes it into a fist that he crumbles around. "Then what of... Is it not TRAPPED? Is it not-"
Then, you hear them, the sounds of engines. In between the buildings, east from the beach, they come.
The first, a yellow and grey moped of separate models, rusted. Atop them are two stoic figures dressed in long sleeve tie dyes with kneepads and iron helms. One of them
The last, taking up both sides of the street, is an ominous van with the top split open by hammers. The driver hunches out of its cockpit, wearing an 80s visor and a Chubacca halloween costume while a man and a woman hold a tiny statuette of some colonial man on a horse between them, dressed in matching suit-ties that theyve wrapped as bandannas, and several layers of buttoned flannels and dress shirts.
In the middle, most presented, lounges a man in a cheep animal duster and red John-Lennon sunglasses, worn upside down, atop the hood of an old Chevy. A shitty Chevy raised with hydraulics two feet up. They do not care for the cold, they never did. To see emotion on their faces would be to imagine weakness. They are so, so stoic. They drive slowly in first gear, transmissions screaming.
"No, it is not trapped..." William adds, shaking his head, before it snaps to a side to glance at whatever was making that awful noise. Turning around to look at the extravagant group of people in their attempt to kill their own vehicle for the sound of it, blinking a couple times, this time not out of confusion, but more surprise. Not really understanding whatever was going on today on the parking lot, almost regretting not having just normally driven his car to town instead of going out walking
The homeless man screams as the engines rise near him, popping, dying. But none give him concern. He is ignored as he ever is, retreating into his mumbles, his terror, running from the world as he retreats into an alley across the street holding his hands atop his bald spot.
They pull to a stop at the sight of Dahvidd, and the man himself falls onto his knees to pose in the spitting image of Mel Gibson in Braveheart, defeated. The man in the duster, takes a breath, pulls at his cloak, and then holds his hand to stop the caravan. The mopeds continue, and he calls out to them. They keep going, much to his irritation, which he turns to Dahvidd.
The man clears his throat, expectantly, looking at his audience of a crumbled sewer night, a man slightly in an alley, and a woman spaced in the backseat, hiding.
William isn't really sure of what's going on anymore, looking at the kneeling man and at the display of vehicles on the street, he simply retreats slowly towards the alleyway, finally reaching for his phone and starting to dial to 911 in order to inform of the wildling pressence, at least the special deputies would know how to deal with someone like him better than William
The number is dialed, the 'Knights in Black" are reached. People coming down the road honk their horns at the questing escapade of foreign lunatics and a single man is broken by his failure."
The woman, with nothing to block her car, turns on her Prius and nearly guns it out of the parking lot, hopping the curve and swerving to avoid the mopeds coming in from the other direction.
William walks back into an alley, truly having seen too much shit this week.
As the standoff continues, a peculiar parade led by a man in an animal duster and red sunglasses arrives, bringing with it an element of the absurd with their motley vehicles and attire. This caravan stops to witness the spectacle, with Dahvidd dramatically kneeling in defeat when they arrive. Throughout this odd event, William decides to retreat, dialing 911 to report the wildling's presence, leaving the resolution of this strange encounter to the authorities. The woman, seizing the opportunity, drives off in her Prius, leaving behind a scene that blends the lines between fantasy and reality. William, overwhelmed by the day's events, retreats to the safety of an alley, reaffirming the day's absurdity as something far too peculiar for his liking.
(William's odd encounter(SRIsolde):SRIsolde)
[Sat Nov 16 2024]
In the wood between worlds
The interior of the building is draped lavishly in clothing of all sorts
and rotary racks pepper the bulk of the available space like multicolored
trees. The walls here are obscured with wood paneling from which hangs can
be attached to display individual items and the floor is likewise hardwood.
The floor plan of the interior of the thrift shop channels customers through
this central location from which the rest of the store can be accessed. The
area is marked with a prominent lamp post doubling as a street sign. The
two paths leading out from it are marked in delicate gold as Witch's Castle
to the north and Cair Paravel to the south. The sections are stocked
primarily with outerwear and formal wear respectively with a transition in
the center. The color scheme changes dark to warm as it transitions to the
south, but is done in whites and silvers to the west.
It is afternoon, about 44F(6C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target and their allies encounter the former thrall of a vampire who's become accidentally separated from their master. Likely mind controlled into complete devotion the thrall wants nothing more than to return. It is up to the characters to either help them do so, or prevent them from doing so.
)
Winter has come to The Elm Street Parking Lot. -Not in the ways of snow, not yet, anyway, but in the cold. A brisk wind picks at the warmth offered to this space, making it desolate.
A man dressed in sewer-stained leathers with a jaw that is not so much as chiseled as the anvil by which one hammers; underbite, with skin that shrinks in hunger. A coif that has seen battles with foliage and dirt sits atop his head, covering his hair. He looms over a bright pink Prius, where tall woman rakes her hand through her hair.
"Bring me your second!" The man bellows, yet sickness can be heard straining at his voice.
William comes out through the door of the apartments, closing it behind him. Glancing at his black car for a couple seconds, always parked straight by the door in the alley, rather than in the parking lot. But this time, for some reason, he decides to go around, to walk for once. He had been doing a lot of that lately, truth be told.
Seemingly mostly unbothered by the cold that seems to have everyone switch into heavier clothing, William wears lighter clothes, still sticking to shirts and the such despite the low temperatures, he was barely seen using his coat anymore nowadays. Maybe something had changed, maybe he had just been raised in a cold place. But that wasn't too important right now.
Calmly and with a slow step, he glances around the parking lot as he walks into it, from his house, it was either that, or going into the forest, and the second one wasn't ideal. Eyes roaming around like they normally did, trying to take in anyone around the place. But his posture seems much more calm, or slacking at that, he was clearly sick by the look on his face, tired and gaunt. And the way he walked or the not so straight lean of his back gave away his lack of energy
The woman, built like a wrestler but groomed for a long day of walking in circles at the mall shouts across the hood, Take a second STICK up your ASS, moron!
Vile, indecency! I will accept no poison from the tongue, BRING ME YOUR SECOND! He pounds a greathammer into the concrete, cracking the pavement.
The woman looks past him, and shouts out to William HEY! CAN YOU CALL NINE-ONE-ONE? THIS PRICK IS TRYING TO TAKE MY CAR!
AHHH, that name you say again! HAH! He turns around, eyeing William. Are you the bearer? Where is your horn?
The woman, built like a wrestler but groomed for a long day of walking in circles at the mall shouts across the hood, "Take a second STICK up your ASS, moron!"
"Vile, indecency! I will accept no poison from the tongue, BRING ME YOUR SECOND!" He pounds a greathammer into the concrete, cracking the pavement.
The woman looks past him, and shouts out to William "HEY! CAN YOU CALL NINE-ONE-ONE? THIS PRICK IS TRYING TO TAKE MY CAR!"
"AHHH, that name you say again! HAH!" He turns around, eyeing William. "Are you the bearer? Where is your horn?"
A strong breeze quiets his voice, which, though shouted, still calls out from an awkward 50ft away.
William tilts his head in confusion, looking curiously between the woman and the armed man, one brow perked up in question, clearly missing some context from whatever was going on between the two, but reaching for his phone with one hand to make sure in case of emergency he could shoot out some quick message or call
"I-" His eyes move from the woman to the man, free hand pointing a thumb towards the wall right next to his, right from the alley he had just came out from, walking a bit closer so that his voice could be heard "You know a Deputy resides right there, right? Do you think it's a good idea to rob a vehicle and flaunt weapons right here?"
"I AM NOT SOME BRIGAND!" The man bellows, then coughs with effort. "The tiny beast inside her carriage is SICK! I steal NOTHING- I, Dahvidd squired and questing on the path of Lord Mack of House Moore- have accepted HER honorable duel."
"I ASKED if you wanted to fight- IT'S NOT-" The woman begins
"A SLIGHT OF FALSE COMBAT IS NOT TO BE TAKEN. BACK." He spits over his shoulder, then turns once again to regard William, "Let this 'deputy' test their force upon my honor, I will not fall."
A homeless man across the street calls out intelligibley in the distance. His words to not traverse coherency, just some drunk happy reverence.
William quirks his other eyebrow, shaking his head to the man "I don't think that's how deputies work, no..." There's a sigh coming from his mouth, clearly tired, maybe not only physically, but also at the idea of having to deal with things like these "So, Lord Mack of the Moores... And you say someone is sick?" His eyes now moving towards the car, but he doesn't step closer, instead he prompts the man to do so "Alright, can you come over here, and explain this in a way that doesn't seem you've lost your mind? Wielding a weapon in public and threatening with duels to people you don't know?"
"I HAVE NOT LOST MY MIND!" The man screams in a tone that does not display the veracity of that statement, "I am LONG quested, fool! Long waylaid, journeyed, battle worn, and harried in places YOU shall never know!" His voice hisses, yet carries. He readies his hammer over his shoulder, "The black knights have come to chase me in their WAILING and CRYING steeds that flash the colors of Red and Blue! I have found purchase in the STINK of this fowl city, underground from their purchase- I have maneuvered and sacrificed MUCH for my cause- so do NOT ramble about the state of my mind! Nay- she shall surely ride off with her whimpering creature under foot if I approach you- No, this I shall not do- you shall become my second, or call one, or I SHALL BREAK THE CREATURE OUT OF THIS SHELL MYSELF!"
William lets out another tired exhales, shaking his head to the sides slowly "Sure, I will not speak of the state of your mind... Become your second what exactly? And what exactly is this sick creature you are trying to... Protect? I'm assuming?"
But despite his words, William doesn't really get closer to the man, staying at a distance given how the weapon was readied, and the unwillingness to seemingly talk things out. He tries to look from afar to try and see whatever is within the car, but he keeps a close eye on the hammer-holding stranger
The car, in all of its electric majesty, shows nothing in ordinary aside from a crack atop the corner of its windshield. A fine blow from a small pebble- a tale of a little David striking the large goliath and falling. It's the heraldry that's caught, muddied and dirt-wridden in a tabbard across his chest, is the half shape sigil of the Kingdom of Nar. The man is not of this place. "I.. I-" The man pants, "N-NO er, HER second- a duel. A great joust if you are of a class to provide them, or in terms of your choosing if you cannot."
The woman quietly opens the rear door of her car and begins to slide inside.
William watches the woman for a second or two, only out of the corner of his eyes, not trying to draw attention to her but also questioning whether her action is a good idea or not "Right... A duel..." He comments as his eyes returns to the man, focusing on the sigil for a second or two. He had seen it somewhere, but he didn't recall where, it might take him a moment to make the connection.
"Of course... And what is this sick creature you claim that is inside her car? A pet? Maybe a child?"
"A great beast!" He declares, "Ohhhh erlong before this- we did hear- we did know of the mighty roars of carriage'd beasts of this place. A babe? NAY! It is mighty companion by which the tools of war have closed around their neck." The man bites back a snarl, looking askance to the ground, "This one is sick, for its roar is near silent- I saw it pass on the street, and gave chase."
William finds himself now dumbfound. His eyes open wider slowly, almost as if the realization was taking its sweet time to sink in, pupils swapping between staring at him and taking a peek at the car itself. Hands crawling up to rub at the lower half of his face, covering his mouth and slowly dragging downwards to his chin before uncovering it.
"You're talking about the car..." He almost mutters, it doesn't seem directed at the stranger, but it's more verbalizing the realization "You're-" That's when he realizes where he saw the symbol, probably a book or two, making the connection. This was a wildling, primitive, unknowing of what a car actually was. There is a moment of assessment there. It was an electric car, that probably was what he was talking about, but did he want to go over the explanation with someone so technologically far behind? Probably not.
No, it was probably safer to just give him some answer that made him forget there is an issue, and when he's gone contact someone like 911 as the woman suggested to make sure he didn't cause trouble, but not in front of him, nothing that could be seen as a threat "Oh, no, you see... This beast in particular, it's a new breed... Recently discovered, these creatures are far more sneaky than most, silent as they move around, barely making any sounds at all- It is not seek, it just isn't as noisy in its ministrations as the rest"
The man's jaw clenches, but his eyes widen in shock. He turns on the vehicle, the woman freezing in the backseat as she sees the movement. "It is what? A new breed?" He holds out a hand gently, this closes it into a fist that he crumbles around. "Then what of... Is it not TRAPPED? Is it not-"
Then, you hear them, the sounds of engines. In between the buildings, east from the beach, they come.
The first, a yellow and grey moped of separate models, rusted. Atop them are two stoic figures dressed in long sleeve tie dyes with kneepads and iron helms. One of them
The last, taking up both sides of the street, is an ominous van with the top split open by hammers. The driver hunches out of its cockpit, wearing an 80s visor and a Chubacca halloween costume while a man and a woman hold a tiny statuette of some colonial man on a horse between them, dressed in matching suit-ties that theyve wrapped as bandannas, and several layers of buttoned flannels and dress shirts.
In the middle, most presented, lounges a man in a cheep animal duster and red John-Lennon sunglasses, worn upside down, atop the hood of an old Chevy. A shitty Chevy raised with hydraulics two feet up. They do not care for the cold, they never did. To see emotion on their faces would be to imagine weakness. They are so, so stoic. They drive slowly in first gear, transmissions screaming.
"No, it is not trapped..." William adds, shaking his head, before it snaps to a side to glance at whatever was making that awful noise. Turning around to look at the extravagant group of people in their attempt to kill their own vehicle for the sound of it, blinking a couple times, this time not out of confusion, but more surprise. Not really understanding whatever was going on today on the parking lot, almost regretting not having just normally driven his car to town instead of going out walking
The homeless man screams as the engines rise near him, popping, dying. But none give him concern. He is ignored as he ever is, retreating into his mumbles, his terror, running from the world as he retreats into an alley across the street holding his hands atop his bald spot.
They pull to a stop at the sight of Dahvidd, and the man himself falls onto his knees to pose in the spitting image of Mel Gibson in Braveheart, defeated. The man in the duster, takes a breath, pulls at his cloak, and then holds his hand to stop the caravan. The mopeds continue, and he calls out to them. They keep going, much to his irritation, which he turns to Dahvidd.
The man clears his throat, expectantly, looking at his audience of a crumbled sewer night, a man slightly in an alley, and a woman spaced in the backseat, hiding.
William isn't really sure of what's going on anymore, looking at the kneeling man and at the display of vehicles on the street, he simply retreats slowly towards the alleyway, finally reaching for his phone and starting to dial to 911 in order to inform of the wildling pressence, at least the special deputies would know how to deal with someone like him better than William
The number is dialed, the 'Knights in Black" are reached. People coming down the road honk their horns at the questing escapade of foreign lunatics and a single man is broken by his failure."
The woman, with nothing to block her car, turns on her Prius and nearly guns it out of the parking lot, hopping the curve and swerving to avoid the mopeds coming in from the other direction.
William walks back into an alley, truly having seen too much shit this week.