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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jan 24, 2011 11:19:00 GMT -8
Tino was getting tired of having to keep to backalley's and the shadier sides of town just so he could avoid his own people. He could feel them in his mind like a spider web around him, trying to surround him and catch him. Silently, he hoped he would have luck enough to continue to avoid getting stuck in the net, but the longer he managed to avoid them the better they got and the harder it was for him to keep out of their grasp.
Squeezing through a hole in a broken wall, Tino could feel his clothes scrape and the dirt in his hair. Growling softly, he wished he had time to go have a shower, heck, sluicing off in a stream would be welcome. But he came out of the wall in a slightly better part of town and while he was not well away from his pursuers, he had enough time to get somewhere where he could at least stop feeling so paranoid.
Adjusting the gun over his shoulder, he continued on, turning a corner and practically running into a kid about half his size. "Damn. Are you alright kid?" he asked the little blond boy.
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Post by sealand on Jan 24, 2011 21:05:35 GMT -8
Peter was cold, tired, disoriented, and wasn't totally sure where he was anymore. He had snuck aboard a ship docked in port somewhere in Britain a few days ago, or maybe it had been weeks; his sense of time was entirely warped, and the only thing he was really aware of was his own hunger, and the small satchel of belongings that he was clutching with numb fingers. He was just trying to get somewhere, to do something; there was nothing left for him back in England, since his caretaker had passed away, and he was determined to have an adventure. However, survival seemed much more important than adventure did, now, and he was only vaguely aware of someone near him speaking.
He seemed to jolt back to awareness and reality after a moment, pulling his belongings toward himself instinctively as he looked up at the man, shivering from the cold, hunger, and exhaustion.
"I-I'm sorry! I'll move out of the way, I--" he stopped, suddenly aware of what had actually been said, and fumbled over his words sheepishly as he calmed a bit. "I'm alright...a-are you...I don't have any money."
The final addition to his statement was fast, probably impossible to actually interpret, and his gaze floated downward as he muttered it, hugging his satchel as he did, a bit shamed at his lack of fortune.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Feb 6, 2011 11:36:46 GMT -8
Tino blinked as the kid spoke so fast that he couldn't quite understand what he said, though he did catch the end bit when the boy mentioned the word money. Taking in the boys appearance; from the tiredness in his face and voice, to the dirt that coated him like a second skin, to the hungry look in his eyes. He got the picture, even if he didn't understand the words.
With a sigh, Tino knew he couldn't leave the kid alone like that. He felt... kind of familiar, which was odd considering he knew he'd never met the boy before. "It's alright kid..." he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked over his shoulder, paranoid as ever. "Look... how about I take you for a meal and a bath? Normally I'd say don't talk to strangers, but you look like you really need one."
What was it about the boy that made him want to take care of him? Tino hadn't felt the need to care for someone other than himself - and Berwald, but he hadn't been able to find him yet - in years since the war.
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Post by sealand on Apr 14, 2011 10:31:25 GMT -8
Peter couldn't help but wince as the man started to address him, but he came to the conclusion - after a moment of brief panic - that the man wasn't going to hurt him. In fact, it seemed that he wanted to help, offering Peter a meal and a bath...if he had any more energy, he'd probably have hugged the stranger just then.
"I-I can't pay you anything, mister, but a meal and a bath would...would be really nice," he agreed pathetically, voice quietly quavering as he looked down at his feet. He felt like a nuisance, really - it was obvious the guy was trying to get somewhere - but he couldn't deny that both offerings sounded better than anything right then.
"B-But first, could you maybe...possibly...tell me where we are?"
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Apr 21, 2011 18:50:43 GMT -8
The feeling of his pursuers were far enough away that Tino could keep his promises and more. "Where we are? We're in Marseilles, France." and he found no amusement wandering about in a dead country's land, but the further he wandered from Finland, the better his chances at being left alone. "Where are you from, kid?" he knelt down, putting his rifle to the side as he watched the young boy shiver.
Pulling off his winter jacket - it had been feeling particularly stifling wearing it, but he wasn't going to take it off and leave it behind in case he needed to double back somewhere cold - he wrapped it around the boy's dirty shoulders before re-shouldering his gun. Placing a protective hand behind the boys head, Tino started them forward, looking for a motel of some sort. Something not too classy, as the people working there would certainly wonder why he was taking a small, dirty boy into a hotel room - and somewhere not too seedy, because he wanted to make sure the boy got a meal and a shower, not something inedible and running dirty water.
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