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Writtar and Shorty Roleplay

It was a harsh night for Ayen, cleaning the streets just to gain barely any money, sometimes he only returned home with a few coins in his hands, and sometimes, with a fortune; well, a fortune in their eyes, which is only about $5.


This night, he was starving out in the bare streets, he couldn't wait to devour his usual late night supper, his shift was almost over, thankfully.
 
Odd jobs here and there was what kept her on her feet. Tonight had been even more exhausting than usual with even less pay out than she normally got. Today was just a few coins after having helped out wherever she could at the diner down the street that was threatening to close at any moment now due to financial instability. Raen had managed to scrape together a bare dollar between helping with the floors, the orders, and the dishes. Tonight she could feel her exhaustion all the way from the dark circles under her brown eyes to the the soles of her feet that ached.


Hungry and no home to, well, go home to, she allowed herself to slide down an alley way wall until she was sitting on the ground. Drawing her legs up to her chest, Raen let a soft sigh escape from her pale, slightly chapped lips. She leaned her head back against the wall, dark hair falling over her shoulder as she caught sight of someone walking.
 
The streets were emptier than usual this eerie night, and Ayen had been sweating since the fifteenth hour of the day; he was clearly overworked as is, but he was knowledgable of his pay - if he didn't work till midnight, then he'd be heading home with empty hands.


He'd just brushing the broom on Ninth Street, with noticably dark bags under his eyes, and pale skin from the horrible, freezing weather; at the corner of his eye he managed to guide his eyes to a figure with long hair, resting on the wall. He decided to approach this figure, which was unknown to him.
 
If the streets had not been so quiet, she most likely would have ended up asleep already with her head on her knees like every night before this one. As it was right now, she was still a little on edge-- most likely do to her exhaustion coupled with the quietness of the streets. When she caught sight of the movement of a shadowy figure form the corner of her eye, she turned.


Not even bothering to get up, Raen just looked at the oncoming person with caution. Darker brown hair painfully contrasted to pale skin and it didn't help that the paleness stood out even more against the dark circles that had taken root underneath her dull eyes. Clearing her throat so to save her voice from the initial croak, she spoke. "Who .. are you?" Three simple words but a powerful question depending on circumstances.
 
Ayen dragged himself to conversation range with her, he was cautious to keep personal space and he was of course, aware that he looked like a crazed criminal with his contrasting colour of hair, eye and skin. Of course, being the courteous and polite person he intended to be, he answered the question without hesitation.


He cleared his throat and began to speak out some words."Oh, my name's Ayen, I'm working as a street cleaner in the suburbs around here, so, nice to meet you, what's your name?"
 
It was sort of odd, well not odd, but certainly new to her when he moved in conversation range rather than away from her. Alright. Well, he was certainly quite the character with the contrast of color palette of hair, skin, and eyes. He was certainly polite even though it was very obvious that he had been through the wringer on more than just one occasion. She actually felt something quite close to respect toward him for it.


"Raen." Her answer was one word and very simple. Brushing her hair behind her, she pushed off of the ground and used the wall for balance, so her sudden shift of weight didn't cause her to go toppling forward. Feeling the need to add a little more the same way he had, she paused momentarily. "I do most of the odd jobs around here.


" Raen added on.
 
Ayen smiled contently and he breathed air into his own hands, warming it and rapidly casting onto a new, pink colour into the palms of his pale hands. He looked down to his wrist, and sought the time, 12AM, his day of work had ended, much to his relief; he would be paid by the pay printer near his house.


"Raen, I gotta go back home, if you ever want to hang out, here's my address." Ayen scrunched up a dirty piece of paper with tattered edges and handed it to Raen, just after that, sparks lit up the sky.
 

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