05-14-2019, 02:30 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 9.2pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Being here has only served to remind him of why he left. It was never just to chase after Bones, however easy it would be for all involved to believe that. The ocean makes his fingers itch. They tap at his thigh the way Bones's tap his gauntlet; he always has this urge to make things worse. To make people bleed. He's done what he could to stay away from people these last few weeks, even when running whatever errands Bones told him to. Lounge on a rooftop and slip out of sight when anyone turned to look at him. It's not his home, these people aren't his friends, and he has no need to pretend otherwise. But he's never been good with isolation, either. From childhood to his days in a tighter collar, being alone has always meant something bad.
So Tyd ends up in this city like a stray cat searching for food; he looks calm as anything, but there's something too attentive about the way his eyes flicker around. He sinks to the ground slowly, worn wood at his back and concrete underneath him, and he tangles his fingers in wires. Thin and sharp, leaving lines on his fingers and stinging his skin, but it's work that needs to be done. He'd gotten Bones to play nicely for the time being  it was supposed to be a good thing. The problem is that that violence sank underneath his skin and poisoned him. He gets antsy when there's nothing to use this on. With everything that's been going on here, though... maybe he'd have a reason soon.
Couldn't promise that'd go the right way in any case. For now, he keeps his fingers on the wire instead of its handles.
So Tyd ends up in this city like a stray cat searching for food; he looks calm as anything, but there's something too attentive about the way his eyes flicker around. He sinks to the ground slowly, worn wood at his back and concrete underneath him, and he tangles his fingers in wires. Thin and sharp, leaving lines on his fingers and stinging his skin, but it's work that needs to be done. He'd gotten Bones to play nicely for the time being  it was supposed to be a good thing. The problem is that that violence sank underneath his skin and poisoned him. He gets antsy when there's nothing to use this on. With everything that's been going on here, though... maybe he'd have a reason soon.
Couldn't promise that'd go the right way in any case. For now, he keeps his fingers on the wire instead of its handles.
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ISN'T IT LOVELY, ALL ALONE —————–———————— INFORMATION
HEART MADE OF GLASS, MY MIND OF STONE
PINTEREST —— TEAR ME TO PIECES, SKIN TO BONE; WELCOME HOME