Steel Tiger
One Thousand Club
The skies had long began to darken to a dark shade of grey. Despite it being toward the beginning of the early noon the suburbs of one of Dosil’s towns, Tosavey was dark as night. The air around had seemed to bring a sour like taste and scent along with it. Many were gone or still in their homes, hiding and afraid that another bomb would go off. The whole neighborhood seemed to be in a deafening silence. In that silence, there were screams of horror not from the people themselves who for the most part remained in their homes expecting or another bomb to go off like the previous one had an hour prior, but instead screams of silent fear inside the mind and some of anger.
Some stranger had already created a small fire, for warmth and perhaps to guide others hopes or attention to the area. The fire itself was not large, perhaps the size of a small campfire such as for young campers to tell stories around. The was in the middle a street yes, with houses on either side of it seeming obliterated entirely. The fire seeming much more welcoming then the houses and nightmarish buildings of which may have been once called home brought forth someone to sit among them. Farah sat near the fire the hood of her coat up over her head, and holding into a clear jar containing a purple ooze inside of it, inside both arms for her hands were trembling all too much at the moment. Curses were muttered under her breath all the while, she sat near this beckoning fire in her sweat pants and waited, waited for something or someone.
Some stranger had already created a small fire, for warmth and perhaps to guide others hopes or attention to the area. The fire itself was not large, perhaps the size of a small campfire such as for young campers to tell stories around. The was in the middle a street yes, with houses on either side of it seeming obliterated entirely. The fire seeming much more welcoming then the houses and nightmarish buildings of which may have been once called home brought forth someone to sit among them. Farah sat near the fire the hood of her coat up over her head, and holding into a clear jar containing a purple ooze inside of it, inside both arms for her hands were trembling all too much at the moment. Curses were muttered under her breath all the while, she sat near this beckoning fire in her sweat pants and waited, waited for something or someone.
Last edited by a moderator: