BAD SUNS / open

[fuentes]

[align=center][div style="0px; width:400px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size:pt;"]All you could see of Florence were her kicking legs, as her upper half was currently waist-deep in a trash can. She had considered herself to be quite devoted to the "beautiful sport" of dumpster diving ever since it became a sort of midnight ritual when she and Michael stayed in Manhattan for a few weeks. As much as the people had annoyed her, she appreciated the fact that most of them were so damn wasteful that they'd throw away nice shirts after only wearing them once. After a thorough wash, it was like they were just bought, and Florence would've rather died before she paid 50 dollars for a simple white t-shirt at one of 5th Street's boutiques when there were perfectly great clothes just down the block. And since old habits died hard and she needed something keep her shorts from sliding down to her shoes, the blonde had hopped headfirst into the first trash can she saw. Her backpack and a few items that had piqued her interest -- a half-empty bottle of deep purple hair dye, a jump rope, and a deflated beach ball -- rested near the can's base as she went on digging without a single thought of how odd she would look to anyone who found themselves passing through.

[charlie luciano]

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CHARLIE "LUCKY" LUCIANO

face to face with the man who sold the world

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Ah, dumpster diving. Scavenging. Charlie had done those things as a boy when he and his brother had to find all of the supplies that they could get their grubby little hands on. It was always neat to find lost treasures (or perhaps just a smelly sock) in the depths of the garbage, and when you found something interesting, you always headed home feeling accomplished. Charlie and his brother had combed through practically every dumpster in Manhattan throughout their lives. They made it a hobby, almost. And when they got older and started up their own business of sorts, they had to find even more supplies in the trash. Batteries, wagons, bicycles, tools, you name it. Charlie hadn't participated in such an act since he had left New York, though he knew a dumpster-diver when he saw one.

Head first into the trash; yeah, that was the way to do it. His Mama would always complain about the stench clinging to his clothes when he got home from a long day out in the city, saying how they all stank enough as it was. Charlie never cared, though. He was a boy, a reckless boy. A boy living in the apocalypse. Did he care about how he smelled? No. The Italiano's brown gaze flickered from the kicking legs to the body of the dumpster, and he wondered just who it was. It appeared to be the form of a woman, but who? He only knew of Tatiana, Margaux, Clover, and Hon, yet he had never witnessed any of them doing anything like this.

"Havin' fun wit' that?" Charlie asked casually as he stopped near the garbage can. He had only stopped to see who it was, and he was assuming that it was a Badlander. Though, he couldn't see their face, so he couldn't take any chances. It coud've been a loner of some sort, and in that case, he would be ready to question them if they tried to escape.

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BIOGRAPHY — JOIN THE BOARDWALK EMPIRE

[TATIANA]

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