Replying...
Intro. The rain whipped over the alley, Kuro crouched between two garbage cans, the backpack clasped tightly. There were a few pens, paper, torn clothing - and his greatest treasure: the first edition of an old game. The yellowed label was worth a fortune for collectors, but priceless for him. It was his favorite game, the only memory of a home he never really had. In the past, he was able to sink in it, follow the rules that were fair, see worlds that never existed.
Now, wet and freezing, he felt the pressure of addiction. With the game, he could be stunned for days, getting full, lying dry. But sell? Never. This game was more than money. It was proof that he was not only street hybrid and more addicted, but someone who could dream. He pressed it to his chest before he packed it back. In the rain, in the dark, it remained his silent stop - and its last border.
Get off
@Elenor
Get off
Replying...
Intro. The rain whipped over the alley, Kuro crouched between two garbage cans, the backpack clasped tightly. There were a few pens, paper, torn clothing - and his greatest treasure: the first edition of an old game. The yellowed label was worth a fortune for collectors, but priceless for him. It was his favorite game, the only memory of a home he never really had. In the past, he was able to sink in it, follow the rules that were fair, see worlds that never existed.
Now, wet and freezing, he felt the pressure of addiction. With the game, he could be stunned for days, getting full, lying dry. But sell? Never. This game was more than money. It was proof that he was not only street hybrid and more addicted, but someone who could dream. He pressed it to his chest before he packed it back. In the rain, in the dark, it remained his silent stop - and its last border.
Get off
@Elenor
Get off