Klaus Hargreeves ☂️ | The Umbrella Academy (h4rgreeves) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2021-01-21 19:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | !narrative, [plot] snowstorm, klaus hargreeves (h4rgreeves), ~2021 january |
Who: Klaus Hargreeves
What: Accosted by youths, who you gonna call?
When: Thursday late afternoon
Where: Random street
Warnings: Drugs
Klaus hated the cold and snow. While he usually wouldn't be thrilled with having to venture out into the cold January afternoon, he had been suffering from a particularly nasty bout of cabin fever during the last few days of stuck-insideness. Lucky for him, someone earlier that very day had dug out the sidewalk from the front entrance of the apartments and made a path towards the street, which was plowed just enough to get by.
Halfway to the Galena Garlic Company, visions of Sangria olives and bourbon-infused honey dancing in his head, Klaus paused on the edge of the sidewalk to light a joint with the end of his dwindling cigarette. There was a muffled shout to his left and the next thing Klaus knew he had gotten a face full of snow, the impact causing both the cigarette and its far more important counterpart to be knocked out of his hands and into a pile of snow. Wiping his face, Klaus frowned, sighing slowly with a whiny muttered "aww man..." before bending to dig out the now fully soaked joint. Holding it pinched between thumb and forefinger, Klaus gave it a scrutinizing look before laughter made him look over at the small gaggle (murder? flock? cohort? whatever) of teens, pointing at him, a few holding more snowballs. Jeering and laughter coming off of them in waves, causing Klaus to roll his eyes, taking great care to pocket the soaked joint in his coat.
"You gonna cry huh?" One of the boys laughed, slapping the back of the kid beside him.
Eyebrow quirking, a small smile tugging at his mouth, Klaus's hands closed into fists as two hazy cerulean forms materialized slightly in front of him. One in a 19th century steamboat captain's uniform suit, the other, a large hulking piece of muscle in old bib overalls, carrying a railroad spike. Both looked incredibly unhappy, and glaring at the teens with white eyes. There was a brief flutter of activity among the teens, a few of them running away in record time. In the process of turning to follow their compatriots, a couple had slipped and fallen on their asses but were hoisted up and helped drug away.
"I guess they didn't want to have a snowball fight.. Sorry guys, I know you were looking forward to it." Klaus unclenched his fists, the specters vanishing as he started to dust the snow off of his coat. "How would you feel about some Wyoming Fireside Beef Goulash? Galena's has fantastic goulash.."