04-10-2019, 04:29 AM
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]His gaze trained back to rest upon his approacher, who soon multiplied to four. The first was a younger man, and Santos couldn't help but let his gaze linger perhaps too long. He looked like Ryder. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the same build even- Santos' face softed slightly. This was not Ryder though. Ryder was scarred and bruised, tattooed and rough, an anger in his eyes and a defensive nature in the way he held himself. This was not Ryder. Ryder was dead.
He blinked, eyes flitting back towards the rocks. The universes tricks were haunting. The man dipped his head in greeting, trying hard to shake the thought of the phantom from his mind. "Santos," He returned, forcing the images of the corpse from his mind. He needed to start over. It had been years. His new beginning could not be stained with his past.
Just as he spoke, a young woman joined them, and though her youth showed upon her skin, her eyes were aged and experienced. He too, shared that same mental age difference. Nowadays, it seemed everyone did. One could not endure this world without wearing their weariness somewhere. The only soul he had seen without it was his ghost- Santos found only emptiness in those blue eyes.
Her words encouraged his gaze to travel to her own bat, which elicited a phantom of a smirk upon the corners of his mouth. "Yours too," He nodded, grazing his eyes upon the weapon. Despite his well-handling ability of the rifle in his pack, he much preferred the use of his bat if available. At least he understood she was a true fighter, not just another kid with a gun.
Another joined them, this time someone older than he. The man was silent, and Santos simply dipped his head slightly to acknowledge his presence. Upon doing so, he felt the familiar sensation of his pet snake slither from his backpack and towards his shoulder. She gently moved across and draped herself atop his shoulder, resting her head near his collarbone as she looked about, as if sensing introductions were ongoing. "This is Kyros," He lifted his hand to pet the white and black dappled snake.
A final member approached as well, introducing themselves as Catalyst- at least, Santos assumed that's what they meant. He had met a handful of others, loners especially, who introduced themselves with uncommon names. Hell, he had even met someone who called themselves Badger- Santos frankly didn't care.
Upon getting a good luck at them as a whole, they- to be blunt- looked like hell. Bruised and limping and bandaged, Santos couldn't tell if that was comforting in the sense of tough nature, or disturbing in the sense of vulnerability. Either way, the man had little room to speak considering his plenty scars and bruises, old and new. "Mierda," He murmured, "Were you all just attacked or is this an everyday occurrence?" Might as well see if this was something he should be bracing himself for.
He blinked, eyes flitting back towards the rocks. The universes tricks were haunting. The man dipped his head in greeting, trying hard to shake the thought of the phantom from his mind. "Santos," He returned, forcing the images of the corpse from his mind. He needed to start over. It had been years. His new beginning could not be stained with his past.
Just as he spoke, a young woman joined them, and though her youth showed upon her skin, her eyes were aged and experienced. He too, shared that same mental age difference. Nowadays, it seemed everyone did. One could not endure this world without wearing their weariness somewhere. The only soul he had seen without it was his ghost- Santos found only emptiness in those blue eyes.
Her words encouraged his gaze to travel to her own bat, which elicited a phantom of a smirk upon the corners of his mouth. "Yours too," He nodded, grazing his eyes upon the weapon. Despite his well-handling ability of the rifle in his pack, he much preferred the use of his bat if available. At least he understood she was a true fighter, not just another kid with a gun.
Another joined them, this time someone older than he. The man was silent, and Santos simply dipped his head slightly to acknowledge his presence. Upon doing so, he felt the familiar sensation of his pet snake slither from his backpack and towards his shoulder. She gently moved across and draped herself atop his shoulder, resting her head near his collarbone as she looked about, as if sensing introductions were ongoing. "This is Kyros," He lifted his hand to pet the white and black dappled snake.
A final member approached as well, introducing themselves as Catalyst- at least, Santos assumed that's what they meant. He had met a handful of others, loners especially, who introduced themselves with uncommon names. Hell, he had even met someone who called themselves Badger- Santos frankly didn't care.
Upon getting a good luck at them as a whole, they- to be blunt- looked like hell. Bruised and limping and bandaged, Santos couldn't tell if that was comforting in the sense of tough nature, or disturbing in the sense of vulnerability. Either way, the man had little room to speak considering his plenty scars and bruises, old and new. "Mierda," He murmured, "Were you all just attacked or is this an everyday occurrence?" Might as well see if this was something he should be bracing himself for.