Role Play Board: The Return

The Return

Posted by Supreme on 10/27/2008, 9:28 am
71.226.186.23

The night sky high above St. Louis, far above the electric haze of street lamps, high rises, condominiums, and an assortment of other modern marvels of architecture, hangs the blanket of stars that seems randomly scattered against the coal black night sky. The millions of stars twinkle like any other night, save for one that soars through the darkness, streaming behind it a seemingly miles long banner of blazing flame. Undoubtedly, quite a few younger children wish upon it, but they do so in vein, as this 'star' in question is instead a descending human.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-The following morning-
A siren squawks to life as an officer gives chase to a speeding motorist. For the streets newest homeless, the siren chases only a groggy headache. The man wakes from his deep slumber, scratching at his scraggy silvery white hair, he sets himself upright. Much to his surprise, he finds himself as bare as a newborn, and with a speed that betrays his dazed like state, he scrambles to the closest dumpster. After what seems like hours, he emerges from the heap of trash with a pair of grease soaked jeans, and a long over coat with the side split nearly armpit to knee. He knew that he wasn't exactly presentable, but it beat the hell out of wandering about like a nudist.

There, among the spilled over garbage from the dumpster, the homeless man finds a peculiar looking item. Some sort of bottle containing an amber brown liquid and a couple of semi-floating cigarette butts. The label identifies the substance as Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey.
"Well, sorry Jack, but I'll be borrowing your Whiskey for a little while."

When Spoken, the word 'whiskey' rang with a certain, unplacable familiarity. Somehow the man knows the stuff will help fight the chill that's crept into his bones through the night. It would also, undoubtedly help to fight off his growing since of loss as well.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-S.L.P.D. Squad Car 103-
"... repeat, the suspect has pulled a 360, and is now headed back to where I clocked him at a hundred and seven miles per hour."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The recently roused man half stumbles onto the sidewalk, downing the last drought of Jack Daniels, and spitting out the two soggy cigarette butts with a belch. With a head that's still spinning, he tries to piece together this planet of ours that he finds somewhat alien. The now empty bottle crashes to the street below as the man covers his ears with both hands in an attempt to ward of the now re approaching siren cries. The shattering bottle only adds to the encroaching headache, and the man reels away from the noise, and into the street.

Suddenly, as the double lines on the pavement blur before his eyes, they're torn toward the sight and sound of a car screeching around the corner on two wheels. The sight only furthers the man's disorientation, then the vehicle rights itself, and he's reassured that gravity applies to this car like any other. The car then swerves to the middle of the road, narrowly avoiding either lane of traffic. The concussed homeless man's instincts tell him to crouch down, and so he hunkers down in the middle of the road, in a near fetal position just moments before the car plows into him at full speed.