Re: Shiloh F + Jack P: The Capital
Trust and oblivion, such concepts for an alleyway in the bad part of a city that loomed so hugely it seemed to become something entirely different. Home, or rather Meadowside, had been so densely surrounded by trees and water that there was nothing in their childhood sky that was not blue. The Capital loomed in a way that made being small a definitive thing, and it gave the impression of being a good place to hide. So many buildings and so many shadows. And, in the case of this evening, so many alleys to piss in.
Which Shiloh did. He pissed against the wall with no concern for politeness. You'd think he'd learned no manners, and the thought alone made him want to continue the stream of urine indefinitely.
"I ask about things that I feel like asking about in the moment. I've accepted your answer, and left it be," he said, hopping a little on the toes of his feet, then tucking and zipping. "Are there rules against asking questions? I haven't been told if there are, but I do like knowing what rules I'm breaking when I break them." Which was not a fabrication entirely. Sometimes, he did like knowing what rules he broke. Early on, especially, when the infractions were loud and even a myopic person could see them clearly. 'Don't touch the vase,' and so on, as he turned to the man in the alley. "The true question is why are you here speaking to me? Alley interactions are often prologues to group violence and shoe and coat theft, especially in winter. I'm at the mouth," he said of the alley entrance. "You're the one at a disadvantage back there."