?I think he is called Worst Chae? - Jewell Ravenlock
Cold snap, even though it sprang the cool night air that hovered close to 40 was enough for him to welcome the fact that he hadn?t switched which hoodie he was wearing. Black facemask lets the inkling of steam come from his face, while his hood protected his ears from the winds coming from the waterside. Pulling taped knuckles out from his pockets, he would rip the tap off, one hand having been stained with blood, and drop it on the ground. Taking a moment to shoot off a text or two, he would make some headway back to what he called his home.
Down an alley, turn left, then right, and in a cut out in the alley, there was a covered overhang where he would sit down for a moment. Home. He had a few places he could go. He knew he could always crash with his sisters if needed, as well as crash with Izumi or Eri if he really had to, but he didn?t mind. In Fact, he felt more at home, sleeping in the streets, than he ever did when staying with someone else, or even in his own apartment. Tucked away in a false brick were most of his belongings, The second set of clothes that were similar to the ones he wore all the time, some money, a roll of tape, a Mp3 player, charging cord for his phone, and a comic book that hadn?t been taken from the wrapping. Grabbing the mp3 and the cord, he would tuck the brick back in and move back out the alley the way he came.
Little Korea, as well as the area around Kabuki street, was busy as always. Saturday night, and most of the gambling joints, as well as the clubs, were packed, which meant the gym that he went to would be mostly empty, exactly how he liked it. Moving to grab a set of gloves, he would slide them on and move over to the kick-boxing targets. Slamming gloved fists into a target never felt as real as his fists meeting someone's face or rib cage. However, if he was going to make any actual progress, fighting like he was used to on the streets wasn?t going to be enough. No more wild hits. It was easy on the street, take a blow or two, then throw three or four back. The rings weren?t like that. Every hit mattered.
Stepping up to a punching bag he swung out again, then again; Again and again and again, up until he couldn?t feel the impacts of his hand into the stiff plastic bag. Collapsing to a knee, breathing heavily from the mouth, he would look at his now swollen hands before slowly clenching them. Shaking his head, there was nothing that he could have done to prevent the tears that broke his normally calm and happy-go-lucky demeanor. Shame, regret, and anger slowly washed over his features as he simply tossed his gloves off and walked out of the gym and into the night.
Making it back to his corner in an alleyway, it was best that he finally let himself sleep. Sliding down the wall silently, he propped his head up against the corner, nudging the loose brick out of the way, he would pull out a picture of his sisters and him. The only one he had. For a while he just looked at it, remembering. ?I'm sorry?? His voice broke through for a moment before he put the picture away and tucked the brick in. Tugging his jacket over himself, he closed his eyes and hoped for sleep.
Cold snap, even though it sprang the cool night air that hovered close to 40 was enough for him to welcome the fact that he hadn?t switched which hoodie he was wearing. Black facemask lets the inkling of steam come from his face, while his hood protected his ears from the winds coming from the waterside. Pulling taped knuckles out from his pockets, he would rip the tap off, one hand having been stained with blood, and drop it on the ground. Taking a moment to shoot off a text or two, he would make some headway back to what he called his home.
Down an alley, turn left, then right, and in a cut out in the alley, there was a covered overhang where he would sit down for a moment. Home. He had a few places he could go. He knew he could always crash with his sisters if needed, as well as crash with Izumi or Eri if he really had to, but he didn?t mind. In Fact, he felt more at home, sleeping in the streets, than he ever did when staying with someone else, or even in his own apartment. Tucked away in a false brick were most of his belongings, The second set of clothes that were similar to the ones he wore all the time, some money, a roll of tape, a Mp3 player, charging cord for his phone, and a comic book that hadn?t been taken from the wrapping. Grabbing the mp3 and the cord, he would tuck the brick back in and move back out the alley the way he came.
Little Korea, as well as the area around Kabuki street, was busy as always. Saturday night, and most of the gambling joints, as well as the clubs, were packed, which meant the gym that he went to would be mostly empty, exactly how he liked it. Moving to grab a set of gloves, he would slide them on and move over to the kick-boxing targets. Slamming gloved fists into a target never felt as real as his fists meeting someone's face or rib cage. However, if he was going to make any actual progress, fighting like he was used to on the streets wasn?t going to be enough. No more wild hits. It was easy on the street, take a blow or two, then throw three or four back. The rings weren?t like that. Every hit mattered.
Stepping up to a punching bag he swung out again, then again; Again and again and again, up until he couldn?t feel the impacts of his hand into the stiff plastic bag. Collapsing to a knee, breathing heavily from the mouth, he would look at his now swollen hands before slowly clenching them. Shaking his head, there was nothing that he could have done to prevent the tears that broke his normally calm and happy-go-lucky demeanor. Shame, regret, and anger slowly washed over his features as he simply tossed his gloves off and walked out of the gym and into the night.
Making it back to his corner in an alleyway, it was best that he finally let himself sleep. Sliding down the wall silently, he propped his head up against the corner, nudging the loose brick out of the way, he would pull out a picture of his sisters and him. The only one he had. For a while he just looked at it, remembering. ?I'm sorry?? His voice broke through for a moment before he put the picture away and tucked the brick in. Tugging his jacket over himself, he closed his eyes and hoped for sleep.