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Realistic or Modern The Bridge RP

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Zayne1694

Just A Fucking Mess

It was a very cloudy day, and it was pouring rain. A figure sat on the railing of the bridge that was over the river. The person's hood was up so it was hard to tell anything by their face. The thunder struck and down the person went. There was a splash in the water but it was unheard due to the sound of the thunder. Only one had seen the events unfold. But there was nothing they could do, they were on the other side of the river, under the bridge. The only thing that could be done was call for help, and upon doing so the police and an ambulance showed up. They found the person who jumped, but there was nothing to be done. Just another headline on the local news.
If they were so lucky...



Zayne stared off into the water. "How many is that now? Four in the last month? Five?" He shook his head and sighed. There have been many times that he stood on the other side of the railing. Just staring into the water. Wanting to jump. Needing to jump. But something always stopped him. Always made him rethink it and return to his miserably bland life. To a life that he was in control of but couldn't control himself. His mind. He shook his head hard to rid himself of his thoughts and took a sip of his coffee, checking his watch as he did so. He was going to be late for work if he didn't hurry. He grumbled in disgust and took one last look at the river. Even though he would be back later that night, he couldn't help but be called to the river. He turned and walked to his car, driving off to his job.
 
Des groaned loudly and smacked the alarm clock that rested on her bedside table. The bright red numbers let her know that it was currently past noon. She had chores that she needed to get done, and they needed to be finished before 3PM. At the women's shelter she lived at if they didn't have a paying job, they had to help out around the housing areas. That meant cleaning bathrooms, doing laundry, making the food, and in Destiny's case she had to go sweep and mop all the flooring. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes, clearing the sleep from them. "Des! It's noon, time to get up!" One of the handlers for the shelter knocked loudly on her room door. She responded with a loud I'm up before throwing her covers off. She walked stark naked over to her dresser and dressed herself tiredly. She pulled a bland pair of jeans over her thighs, next donning a faded yellow t-shirt. Walking barefoot, she head downstairs for the slave work.

It only took her an hour to complete the job, so by 1:15PM she was free to do as she pleased. After heading upstairs to grab a jacket, Des left the shelter hoping for some fresh air. The cold hit her face, and she burrowed her hands into her sleeves as far as they would go. The blonde rounded a street corner and took a leisure pace through the park. She had always liked being outside, especially when it was after it rained. The smell comforted her. She arrived at the bridge within ten minutes and took her usual seat on the uphill slope. Not caring that her butt would get wet, she settled in and simply watched people walk back and forth along the bridge. She cupped her hands and breathed hot air into them, trying to put feeling back into her fingers. It was just another day.
 
Friends. That’s what people these days have, right? At least, so one would think. But in reality, it’s quite the opposite. People hang around you, normally, for two reasons. For their profit, which is normally the case so it seems with people around high school. The second reason, one that Jared sees a lot happen to him, is the saddest. That, hanging out of pitty that they have no friends. In reality, those friends aren’t wrong at all. They couldn’t be more spot on. Except no one really wants a fake relationship. People want real bonding time with real people. But if one were to be real, you’d be walk all over in today’s society.
Jared walked around time with his friends in his classes. Around the mall they were at, kids were laughing and hanging out. Even Jared and his friends, surprisingly to Jared he was one of the loudest kids. Yet it was all fake. Every single laugh and smile was made to not feel empty. To have something while he was with these people. Not friends though. Friends that were true could see through it. No, these friends were most likely here for his money. It wasn’t his fault his family was well set off. Living in what others would call a mansion, Jared laughed at the thought at a one story house to most people. Eventually fabricating a lie to get away from those people, Jared walked around time. He thought, which happened to be a bad thing whenever that happened. But this time it wasn’t. This time is was just wondering who would notice him this time. Not for the rich kid who was spoiled and had everything he wanted. To be seen as a kid who needed help. Who needed friendship. While thinking about this, he wandered towards some popular bridge to jump at. Of course Jared thought about the bridge. Anyone with half of a problem most likely would. But fighting through it, Jared focused on other things. Majority of the time, Jared focused on his school work. Making sure he was passing his classes, which happened to be the only thing that would stop him nowadays.
 
Rudolph Burns
Current Personality: Rudolph

Rudolph sighed softly to himself, his hazel eyes staring at the computer screen as he read over the email. He pressed send and shut the laptop, pushing it aside as he looked up at the time. His rumbling stomach urged him to his feet, and he grabbed his jacket, pulling it on. He stepped out of his work cube, looking around the office and approaching his boss. "Sir, may I go on lunch now?" the man asked softly, glancing at the time once more before meeting the older man's gaze.

Looking at the time as well, Mr. Krielin nodded to his employee. "Yes, be back in an hour. I want those files before 4 today, don't me down, Rudolph," the man said, sipping his coffee as he turned away from the man. Rudolph nodded, "yes sir, thank you." The man quickly walked back to his cube, grabbing his suitcase and leaving the building. He walked to his truck, climbing into the vehicle. He sat the suitcase in the passenger seat, clicking it open as he grabbed the small bag in the corner. He pulled out the syringe and the bottle of heroin. He filled the syringe and sat back, closing his eyes as he pressed the needle into his arm.

Rudolph arrived at the bridge fifteen minutes after his break had started, his eyes glancing toward the water as he approached the bench. He took a seat, his shaking hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. He had heard of this bridge...how so many troubled people would come...jump... There were times he was tempted to jump but something always stopped him... He moved his hand through his brown hair, the wind causing a shiver to run down the young man's back.​
 
The thick smoke of a burning cigarette contrasted harshly to the cold light fog that surrounded the streets. Just a few hours before Isabel had gathered her things and her payment before leaving a nearby motel.

It was early. Not yet busy enough to have people on the streets hurrying to get to their jobs or drop their kids off to school and thank god for that. While a people person, Isabel wasn't quite fond of the bustling morning. The cars honking, kids screaming, school bell's ringing and "mature" adults yelling their way deeper into conflicts.

She tried to enjoy these little moments she had to herself to the fullest but in all honesty she just ended up walking around town smoking. It always seemed to end in the same place, however. The bridge. Was it macabre that her favorite place in town was, coincidentally where people regularly came to commit suicide? Maybe. She didn't like it because of the dark implications but because of the part the bridge played into her history. Forming the person she was today. And of course, it was normally quiet. However when she arrived she could already hear the distant traffic. Some hours must have passed in between her walk and her arrival. Well, either way she could barely hear it and she still needed to take a breather before continuing on with her day.

Isabel's once long cigarette soon met the end of her heel as she stomped it out before reaching into her pocket for both her lighter and a new cig. As she was lighting it she scanned the bridge to see she was not the only person there. Nobody she knew, though. That in mind she quickly found a place where she could leave others alone and be left alone herself. She leaned her back against a lone street light. Not the most comfortable place in the world but it was this or sit next to a stranger and get her clothes wet. That wasn't happening.
 
Tap tap. Tappy tap tap. Tap. Allen was tapping somewhat erratically on the handrails of the bridge, starring out over the water. There weren't many people out on the bridge, most people had better things to do. Not him though. No sir, he had absolutely nothing to do, no one to hang out with. For the past couple days the messages he had been sending out had been met with silence. He pulled out his phone again and checked for any new messages, knowing in his heart there weren't any. If the frowning faces on Snapchat were any indication, he should probably give up on those people. He knew he wouldn't though. He sighed and placed his phone down.

I could just jump now. No one here would even try to stop me.

He placed his hands flat on the guardrail and braced his arms, beginning to lift himself up. But as soon as one foot had left the ground, he released the tension in his arms and let himself fall back to Earth.

One of these days.

He sighed and looked at the time again. While he did enjoy the free time, he wished that it was election season already so he'd have work. It's not like he was really doing anything with this free time anyhow.

Fear. That's my problem.

But fear of what, he wasn't really sure. Was it fear of what's on the other side? Of that being worse. Or was it fear of realizing afterwards that all of his problems were not real. That they were in his head, made up. Invalid.
 

Zayne groaned as he drove back to the bridge. Work was hell tonight. Both girls that were supposed to be with him called off, leaving him to push through a Saturday night rush by himself. Yea, all the tips were his and he didn't have to split them, but that wasn't the point. He was beyond tired of being taken advantage of. By everyone. He parked and sighed. Stepping out of his car and walking to his normal spot, he pulled out a joint that he had rolled earlier that day. Lighting it up, he took a deep drag, ready for the effects of the weed to travel through his body. He took a seat on the semi wet grass and blew out some smoke.

"It's never going to end..." He said out loud, thinking he was alone. He was always alone. He didn't really have any friends and the one he did have he didn't like to worry. He took another hit off the joint and ran a hand through his hair. He never realized someone else was around him.
 
Allen sighed as he returned to the bridge. Another day of doing nothing, just as he had predicted. While many people would kill to be in his position, with copious amounts of free time, it was taxing to him. Then again most people had others to fill the free time with. But still, he didn't want to be seen as whining about nothing. Not when other people had real problems to worry about. He walked to the edge of the bridge again, looking out into the tempting waters below. If he did jump just then, he wouldn't have to think anymore, worry about any of this. He was snapped out of his thoughts by someone's voice.

"It's never going to end..."

He looked around for the sound, having previously thought he was alone on this bridge. Allen wandered over to the side of the bridge, seeing a guy sitting in the grassing. He seemed distressed. There was a tug in his gut telling him he should go talk to him, ask him what's wrong.

But that would be weird. People don't just go up to other people and ask if they're okay. I mean maybe they should, but that's not the way it works. We'll probably make some awkward forced small talk, I won't realize when it's my cue to leave, he'll be too nice to tell me to "fuck off," there be the supremely uncomfortable silence before I get a clue and walk away. But then again, maybe he needs someone. Maybe I can be that someone, I could I help him. Would I not be a terrible person for not trying?

While all this was going through his head, he didn't realize he was walking closer. He was only a few feet away when he noticed, and started to panic a little.

Damnit. Fuck! Now what do I do? I can't just walk away.

He stood there frozen for what felt like an eternity, but was more like five minutes. Figuring at this point it would be weird no matter what he did he did, he decided to press forward.

"You okay?"

His deep voice didn't carry well as he spoke softly, practically mumbling. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath to calm himself, there was no good reason why talking to someone, even a stranger, should be so stressful. He spoke again, louder this time at a normal human volume.

"Are you okay?"

Zayne1694 Zayne1694
 
Zayne jumped at the voice of another. He wasn't expecting anyone else to be around here.

"Are you okay?"

He almost dropped the joint he was hitting and held a hand over his chest. His eyes scanning in front of him, trying to focus on the voice. His eyes finally adjusted and he saw the man looking at him, a look of concern on his face. He smirked lightly and shook his head. "Yea, I'm good. Just asking myself the same question I always ask myself." He sighed and took another drag on the joint, before handing it out to the guy. He didn't particularly care if he wanted to smoke it, he was just being nice. Under a nearby street light, Zayne noticed the wisps of smoke and followed them to a girl farther down the bridge but still close enough to the light to be shown, though it was more of a dim shine. He tilted his head. The bridge was never this busy, unless you were there to end it all. What was going on?

"What are you doing here?" He asked, loud enough for both the man and the girl to hear. He wasn't used to this.

A Angelus HaxVT HaxVT
 
Allen took the joint from the guy, not that he super wanted to, but he thought it would be far too weird for him not to take it. He started to take a drag off of it.

Okay, how long do I suck for? Do I give it right back, am I suppose to catch up? I probably should give it right back. Was this one of those polite offers I was supposed to decline? What are the damn rules here?

He did ultimately decide to hand it back after the first hit.

"Thanks." the words came out a little awkwardly, like someone who was unsure of what they were doing. "Me? I'm just here contemplating ... things. You know, life and such. How 'bout yourself, what are you doing here?"

Zayne1694 Zayne1694 HaxVT HaxVT



 

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