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[kairoticpoint.livejournal.com]

Kieron was so sure that he would receive weird stares for lying around in the complex's walking park wearing mostly black on a bright and sunny day, that when he realized that not very many people were out at all (and most of them weren't staring), he was actually mildly disappointed.

He turned a page in the book in his hands. Reading didn't usually go so well with thinking, and right now, he didn't want to do much thinking. Last night had not gone well. What should have been a simple in-and-out of a deal had quickly escalated to gunfire and fistfights, and before he could get his friends out of there, most of them had been injured. Someone he wasn't familiar with, but whose name he knew, had even been shot and killed. Who knew there was so much bad blood over a simple suitcase of money...

Growing tired of the idiotic antics of the protagonist, he decided to use his book as a shield for his eyes instead of actually reading the words. Eventually, his arm grew tired, so he resorted to placing the open book over his whole face. Hmm... maybe that would get him some weird looks.

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[refractus.livejournal.com]

Down the way, a small ruckus was being stirred in the most-recently inhabited apartment. The sound of boxes being dropped and two adult voices raised in surprise, then admonishment: the mother, "Siggy!" and the father, "Sigmund! What were you thinking? I could have—!" and the child, much harder to hear thanks to his softer tone of voice, "I'm sorry!"

More was said, but the voices had lowered and became indistinguishable. Finally, a belligerent sigh, and a young boy around ten or eleven years old tromped his way out of the apartment. Around his neck were some headphones attached to the player in his hand, but he had yet to put them on. He seemed more exasperated than annoyed or upset.

After a moment of searching the surrounding area, past a few of the boxes that had yet to make their way inside...

"Hey."

The boy found Kieron.