The Outliers // PSL

[blobular]

[today is just another day. the weather is warm, overcast. several restaurants have opened up their windowed storefronts and outside seating pours over onto the sidewalk. old people are walking in pairs, young people are walking their dogs. the cobbled street is lined with flowers, a picturesque kind of cultured, well-off, gluten-free, yoga-class-attending neighborhood.

sometimes, Nadia enjoys it, but today she's feeling bored and jaded and doesn't particularly appreciate the flowers she's seen bloom several years in a row. she looks like she usually does out in town--olive skin, long, dark hair, modest sweatshirt, cold stare. people leave her alone, and she doesn't talk to anyone more than she has to. she's just going out to buy groceries, then head home, then try to keep herself busy for yet another long afternoon.

she could never have expected what was about to intercept her monotonous life.]

Comments

[canisinferis]

[first, it's the sound of a garbage can tipping over--and it's not one of the big, standard plastic ones. someone had one of those old metal ones that no one actually keeps anymore, because boy it had looked charming sitting there in that antique store. they'd probably been planning on turning it into a flower planter. it gets slammed down a driveway now, however, followed by the cliche of a terrified cat dashing across the yard and into some bushes beyond. some dogs a few yards away start barking at the noise, and even a few of the diners down the block lift their attention from their peaceful brunches.

shortly after the garbage can, and the cat, stumbles a man. he's leggy, and immediately kind of devilish-looking with his long, pointed features, and the sort of ridiculous fur-collared leather jacket he's wearing.

standing there in the driveway, it's pretty obvious that he's looking for the cat. instead, he sees her, and he is immediately and obviously distracted. his ears literally perk up at the sight of her.]

--Hey!