Smidget
Jun 19th, 2004, 09:03:07 PM
Cassandra said her tearful goodbyes to the love of her life, Daerlayne, as he packed a few of his things and headed off to ... well someplace. He promised that once he got settled, he'd send word to her and she could come to see him. It's only been a week since he left and she's been miserable for every passing minute. Her waitressing job didn't pan out as she hoped it would. Of course, she also hoped that it would keep her close to Daerlayne since he was working right there at the docks of the spaceport. It wasn't too often that the two were seen apart, not since the day they met many years ago.
Her days have been spent filling out application after application. It seems rather hopeless lately that she'll be able to find a job that will pay enough to cover the meager rent, utility bills and buy a meal now and then. She's faced it long ago that without a decent education, she isn't going to get much.
Now she finds herself wandering the streets with her hands shoved deep into her pockets and her head hung low. Being out on the streets in the wee hours of the morning, or very very late depending on one's view of things, isn't anything new for her.
She's lived on the streets since the age of nine and that is where she met Daerlayne; known on the streets as BirdDog or Birdie. She learned quickly how to handle herself and how to get out of just about any situation a streetrat can possibly get into at a young age, so there isn't all that much that frightens this young lady.
One exception to that is the run in she had with a thing called Galavander. By the end of that night, she and Daerlayne were forced to move miles and miles away just to avoid getting caught up in the destruction of a core explosion at the power plant. That not only made them temporarily homeless - again - but it put her out of a decent paying job.
Shouts and cheers erupt from a building she nears. Looking up, she sees a sign depicting that the place is a fighting arena. Her fingers wriggle in her pocket and her ears are rewarded with the jingling sound of loose change. She pulls her hand out and finds several credit chits, at least enough to place a one time bet.
"Eh, why not. I've got nothing better to do and nothing more to lose. Who knows ... maybe I'll scrape up enough tonight to pay the rent in the next two weeks."
With a shrug, she saunters into the establishment. She wrinkles her button nose as the odor of smoke stings her nostrils and burns her eyes. Smidget coughs lightly a few times, strolling in further. She makes her way down towards the roped in arena and has to rise on her tip-toes to see the final knock out. The crowd erupts in cheers as well as hissed boos.
A bell rings, signaling the end of the fight. The winner is announced and then a brief intermission before the next round begins. Cassandra meanders around some, locates the betting booth and places her bet. Not much, but if the man she bet on wins, the odds are fifty to one and she just bet the last fifty credit chits to her name.
Opting to find a seat that some drunkard will forget he even occupied, she sits down and waits for the next fight to begin. Unknown to a few who stagger past or trip over her foot, their wallets have been lifted by nimble fingers and stowed away safely upon her personage.
Her days have been spent filling out application after application. It seems rather hopeless lately that she'll be able to find a job that will pay enough to cover the meager rent, utility bills and buy a meal now and then. She's faced it long ago that without a decent education, she isn't going to get much.
Now she finds herself wandering the streets with her hands shoved deep into her pockets and her head hung low. Being out on the streets in the wee hours of the morning, or very very late depending on one's view of things, isn't anything new for her.
She's lived on the streets since the age of nine and that is where she met Daerlayne; known on the streets as BirdDog or Birdie. She learned quickly how to handle herself and how to get out of just about any situation a streetrat can possibly get into at a young age, so there isn't all that much that frightens this young lady.
One exception to that is the run in she had with a thing called Galavander. By the end of that night, she and Daerlayne were forced to move miles and miles away just to avoid getting caught up in the destruction of a core explosion at the power plant. That not only made them temporarily homeless - again - but it put her out of a decent paying job.
Shouts and cheers erupt from a building she nears. Looking up, she sees a sign depicting that the place is a fighting arena. Her fingers wriggle in her pocket and her ears are rewarded with the jingling sound of loose change. She pulls her hand out and finds several credit chits, at least enough to place a one time bet.
"Eh, why not. I've got nothing better to do and nothing more to lose. Who knows ... maybe I'll scrape up enough tonight to pay the rent in the next two weeks."
With a shrug, she saunters into the establishment. She wrinkles her button nose as the odor of smoke stings her nostrils and burns her eyes. Smidget coughs lightly a few times, strolling in further. She makes her way down towards the roped in arena and has to rise on her tip-toes to see the final knock out. The crowd erupts in cheers as well as hissed boos.
A bell rings, signaling the end of the fight. The winner is announced and then a brief intermission before the next round begins. Cassandra meanders around some, locates the betting booth and places her bet. Not much, but if the man she bet on wins, the odds are fifty to one and she just bet the last fifty credit chits to her name.
Opting to find a seat that some drunkard will forget he even occupied, she sits down and waits for the next fight to begin. Unknown to a few who stagger past or trip over her foot, their wallets have been lifted by nimble fingers and stowed away safely upon her personage.