Red Tape and No Coin (OPEN)

[Anthony M. Steiner]

He had been waiting in line to enter the city for over an hour. Cold, wet, and in need of a good scrub. After the Enforcers went ape shit about some hooded stranger, he found him self being directed to yet another line. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. By the time Anthony got with in spitting distance of the embassy, the door was closed and drapes were drawn.

Trying to speak as little as possible, less he give away that he doesn't belong, he wandered down one street to another. Seeking any form of shelter, or maybe even some coin. The enforcers wouldn't be opening the embassy again until the week after next. Sounded like there wasn't much love for non-citizens and outlying regions that refused direct control. "York and her citizenry come first. We just don't have the resources or the man power to provide aid to every dirt farmer and street walker comes into York." All in all, it was just as tits up as his grand dad said the old world was. Red Tape and never enough coin.

Thankful for his warm field jacket, it was still biting cold now that night was in full. The clouds said snow, but his gut said sleet. Heading into an alley, Anthony looked for a spot to hunker down for the night.

Hope they allow fires or burn barrels in the alleys here. Anthony wasn't used to this type of city. It was almost... civilized. But with "civilization" comes "zero tolerance" rules. And without a way to stay warm, this accented stranger's hunt would be much shorter than he planned. Want it or not.

[Paul Tannon]

Paul sat on the edge of a low wall, he toyed with his tin of pork and beans. Stirring it with his fork and trying to draw out the time between now and his next mouthful. The whole thing was tasteless, but for some reason it sold well to the richer members of Yorks upper crust.

Maybe it's because they could afford the spices to make it palatable, maybe they just like the nostalgia of this old stuff. For all he knew they just used it as memorabilia, but he was hungry and he'd gone through his stores quicker.

Especially seeing as he'd been robbed whilst he walking around Yorks market trying to find his pre-organised fence for the goods. His cart was in a lock up a few streets down and he would be sleeping in it except it was Enforcer owned. They had a zero tolerance for any potential illegal immigrants, meaning he wasn't allowed to sleep in his own cart.

So here he was roughing it for a night on the streets, eating crappy food and waiting till morning to make a bit of cash.

[Anthony M. Steiner]

Bugger, was it ever cold.

Most of the street traffic disappeared as the moon settled high in the night sky. Faint beams of yellow light could occasionally be spotted shining thru frost covered windows, and the little squeaks and hoots of night animals were commonly heard. After crunching his way thru the snow covered alleys he came around a walled corner, and found a dead end that was both protected from the wind as well as out of sight from the streets that wound there way throughout York's outer circle. It was dark, and obviously rarely visited. Flanked on either side by large red brick buildings, and ending with a high stone wall that cut off access to what was apparently York's old rail yard. It was perfect for what he needed. The last thing he needed was running a foul of the nightwatch.

He didn't like his situation one bit. He had wasted nearly a week getting to this city, and no thanks to the local law enforcement he was not even a breath closer to finding his sister's kidnappers. You'd think that they would at least spare a moment to answer some questions," he thought as he shrugged off his pack. Not sparing a moment, Anthony started about gathering odd scraps of wood from busted crates that looked almost as old as the fall of the Old World itself. Many of the would be freight boxes were already lying in pieces, so he didn't even have to make any noise doing it himself. "At least there's something to be glad about," he muttered outloud, completely unaware of the silent figure that sat in the corner where the stone wall met one of the brick buildings.

[Paul Tannon]

Wow, this was great dinner...and a show. Admittedly the dinner was piss poor and the show was some weirdo scurrying around for scraps of box but it was entertaining all the same.
This guy didn't seem to be around here, for starters he was trying to light a fire that's a sure fire way to get himself arrested. And on top of that he's...Paul did a double take, the smug feeling of social superiority had gone and was now replaced with fear.

What if he gets arrested, what if the fire draws attention to him as well. What if he got arrested? He'd loose his cart and his profit, and his dad would go mental. And that was all stuff he didn't want to happen.

Paul dropped down off of his little bit of wall and began to make his way towards the man and his pile of wood. "Hey, mate...not the best of ideas" he began.

[Anthony M. Steiner]

Anthony's fingers were starting to go numb when he started his third trip to the small wood pile he was able to scavenge up. Having given away his deer skin gloves to a scrappy looking refugee's child outside the gates. He was admittedly beginning to regret the choice, but what can you do? Besides, those folks outside the walls were in just as much "need" as he was, just in a different scenario.

Having positioned the pile in a corner where the aged building cornered off, beyond sight from the street, he quickly dropped the arm of broken planks and set to splitting off some kindling when he heard the sudden drop of feet behind him.

"Damn it!" a string of words that would have his mother cringing fired off in his head; but all that escaped his mouth was, "Yahhhh!" (with a rather stupid look of embarrassment and shock splashed across his chilled paling skin).

The foot fall came with a voice, "Hey, mate...." Too late, out of reflex, he had already taken hold of the scrap in his hand and spun while throwing the broken plank in the general direction of where the voice came from. The throw went wild and the odd angles caused it to curve wide off course, striking the opposing brick building harmlessly. Instincts earned over years under threat of death squads on New Jersey's streets switching his movements onto auto-pilot. Coming to a stop from his 180' degree spin, Anthony reaches for his belt knife. Not the best of weapon options, but having left both his bow and machete with his pack, his weapons of choice were now lying halfway between himself and the dark silhouette in the opposite corner of the small blind alley.

"You folk here do sneak about, don't you." A flat statement, rather than a question.
His reflexes having completed their motions, Anthony's brain finally processed the last few seconds that had transpired. The words spoken beyond comprehension. Adrenaline made sure of that. The tone of voice on the other hand was very notable, and there wasn't any clear hint of threat.

The events that transpired under the overpass still fresh in his mind, and the very possible outcome that could have led to, he forced himself to ease it down a notch. Slowly relaxing his posture a little, "Uhh... would you mind repeating yourself? You caught me a bit off guard."

[Paul Tannon]

Paul walked casually towards the hunched figure, calling out to him "Hey mate"...nothing that bad, when all of a sudden the figure had spun and lobbed a bloody great chunk of wood at him. He ducked despite the fact it was a piss poor throw, however he knew it was only luck that he was still conscious and that he hadn't ducked nearly fast enough.

By the time he had brought himself back up to standing the figure had made a full about turn and drawn a knife, yelling some incomprehensible threat about people sneaking. Paul decided to let him have his angry moment, after all who was he to argue with a man brandishing a knife. And it was a man this time, not like a week or two ago when he was mugged by a whore for denying her some trade. After an incredibly awkward moment or two the man before him lowered his knife a little and asking him to repeat himself.

"I was just saying mate, that you shouldn't be lighting a fire out here in the open like that" He walked slowly towards the man with hands clearly showing he was unarmed, but still close enough to his wrench to grab it if he had to. "Enforcer patrols have a habit of showing up at the most inconvenient times"