An apartment, penned in with those walls around him, each block filled with people who might as well be cattle not realising they were in another kind of cell. It was a prison they’d all accepted, but Riddick hadn’t. He’d checked it out in case there were any clues, but beyond that he hadn’t spent more than a couple minutes inside. There wasn’t any way he was going to stay in a box that had been assigned to him, no matter the comforts.
He’s set up on the edge of downtown, handing over cash for a dingy apartment that’s better than anything he’s used to even still. The landlord doesn’t ask for a name, and that’s the way Riddick likes it. Money will keep him quiet, and money is something he’s never had much issue coming by.
He still doesn’t spend much time there. Riddick is convinced he can find a way out of this place, that he can find a way back to Crematoria. It doesn’t matter how long it take, he’ll wait it out. He’s good at waiting.
The park is as good a place as any to waste a few hours. People wander through, and he takes an interest or doesn’t, sometimes following them, sometimes just hanging back, blending into the background and the trees.
Until he smells her. It’s unmistakeable, the scent of her sweat. Riddick scans the paths, seeing her coming over the hill.
“Impossible,” he growls, stepping out of the trees, stepping into her path. “You died.”
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-02-20 12:25 am (UTC)He’s set up on the edge of downtown, handing over cash for a dingy apartment that’s better than anything he’s used to even still. The landlord doesn’t ask for a name, and that’s the way Riddick likes it. Money will keep him quiet, and money is something he’s never had much issue coming by.
He still doesn’t spend much time there. Riddick is convinced he can find a way out of this place, that he can find a way back to Crematoria. It doesn’t matter how long it take, he’ll wait it out. He’s good at waiting.
The park is as good a place as any to waste a few hours. People wander through, and he takes an interest or doesn’t, sometimes following them, sometimes just hanging back, blending into the background and the trees.
Until he smells her. It’s unmistakeable, the scent of her sweat. Riddick scans the paths, seeing her coming over the hill.
“Impossible,” he growls, stepping out of the trees, stepping into her path. “You died.”