TheSpaceInBetween
Junior Member
Hi there I’m looking for someone to play against my character in this detailed thread about a troubled young mind, abandoned by his family because of his erratic behaviour driven to dangerous situations by the images in his mind but finds it hard to communicate his fears and beliefs so instead draws them. I’m searching for a partner to be a friend or even an older parental figure later in the thread. Here is the opening.
——-
Pulling his hood over his head, hands returning to rubbing together nervously as the precise walking came to a stop.
“ safety first, left, right, left...and cross” he muttered to himself head jerking rapidly making sure nothing was coming towards him that could harm him. It was quiet.. Ali liked quiet... but not to quiet. He could hear everything in his head then, doubt, worry, fear, second guessing every little thing.
Stopping he cleared his throat loudly snapping his fingers, a kind of weird reset button that momentarily stopped himself.
Checking his watch he looked at the store front opposite, he would have to move now. “ have got time... in and out... quick as a flash” he muttered scratching his head as he wandered up to the door looking in at all the pencils and paints, paper giving him a warming feeling that took him away. Drawing was the only thing that did.
“ do it... do it...and now!” He instinctively grabbed a sign base giving it a good enough swing to smash through the door.
Hopping through the broken window wincing as his arm was sliced a little due to the glass. Humming gently to himself he rubbed his hands together going first for the paint brushes, paint brushes were so good! Running his thumb over the bristles he sighed feeling his calmness building up easing the worry of actually doing this.
His mind only ticked over the possibility of him, doing something illegal. For the briefest of moments. Before long a high pitched whining shook through his system. Grunting he covered his ears and sat down beginning to paint on the cabinets of the store ( image below) then began drawing putting paint tubes, books, brushes in his bag that he vaguely remembered stealing.
Shaking his head he rocked a little muttering to himself as he reeled of picture upon picture and paintings of both landscapes and animals pausing to holding onto his bleeding arm. Pacing back and forth twirling a pencil in his fingers.
“ no way I’m going back...don’t know...they pushed me....big push” he squatted down covering his ears again the noise annoying him more than the pain in his arm and the mutterings in his head.
——-
Pulling his hood over his head, hands returning to rubbing together nervously as the precise walking came to a stop.
“ safety first, left, right, left...and cross” he muttered to himself head jerking rapidly making sure nothing was coming towards him that could harm him. It was quiet.. Ali liked quiet... but not to quiet. He could hear everything in his head then, doubt, worry, fear, second guessing every little thing.
Stopping he cleared his throat loudly snapping his fingers, a kind of weird reset button that momentarily stopped himself.
Checking his watch he looked at the store front opposite, he would have to move now. “ have got time... in and out... quick as a flash” he muttered scratching his head as he wandered up to the door looking in at all the pencils and paints, paper giving him a warming feeling that took him away. Drawing was the only thing that did.
“ do it... do it...and now!” He instinctively grabbed a sign base giving it a good enough swing to smash through the door.
Hopping through the broken window wincing as his arm was sliced a little due to the glass. Humming gently to himself he rubbed his hands together going first for the paint brushes, paint brushes were so good! Running his thumb over the bristles he sighed feeling his calmness building up easing the worry of actually doing this.
His mind only ticked over the possibility of him, doing something illegal. For the briefest of moments. Before long a high pitched whining shook through his system. Grunting he covered his ears and sat down beginning to paint on the cabinets of the store ( image below) then began drawing putting paint tubes, books, brushes in his bag that he vaguely remembered stealing.
Shaking his head he rocked a little muttering to himself as he reeled of picture upon picture and paintings of both landscapes and animals pausing to holding onto his bleeding arm. Pacing back and forth twirling a pencil in his fingers.
“ no way I’m going back...don’t know...they pushed me....big push” he squatted down covering his ears again the noise annoying him more than the pain in his arm and the mutterings in his head.
