7th of September 2047
The Raccoon's feet would graze the gravel laying along the road of the earth he stood on now having exited his place of temporary sanctuary, a woman stood by the door of the small apartment complex and called him over in a soft yet seducing and enticing tone "Yoo-hoo", approaching as a hyena wearing a stained brown jacket and a filthy tank top of a white colour, a pink bra was visible through the shallow material. This style also correlated to the lower half of her body which consisted of only panties to conceal herself.
"You look tense; all the men in this town don't take kindly to outsiders but don't you stress hun.. I do, perhaps you need a good lay down 'trash eater', whadya say? Of course for the price of my own troubles hmn?"
The boy would stare over his shoulder back at her, his response was a dead-eye gaze and visibly unamused reply in a cold and bitter tone quite the opposite of her playful tone
"No thank you, Take your services elsewhere."
Walking on, wanting to avoid conversation the woman would catch up with him and latch onto his arm with such force his bag nearly dropped to the floor, the gravel fought back against the friction of his agile foot stopping him from falling completely considering he was caught off guard
"You've got to, please.. Even just some money will help, they took it all. They're going to take what I owe in blood please mister, The white hand already took my daddy and mama away from me you've gotta at least help me feed my childr-"
Ruthlessly he'd turn pushing the pleading woman to the floor with a powerful shove, fixing the hat back on his head again and grunting. visibly glaring down at her. Silence revolved around the two for a few moments while the miniscule amount of other town villagers watched in surprise and cloaked in nothing but utter silence. The wind blew around the two for a moment before she stood up, disgruntled, scared and disappointment mixed into her expression now
"You lay your filthy hands on me again and I won't be so remorseful next time, Miss. Perhaps the other town folk can help with your issue, you should have known taking money from those loan shark scum was the last thing you oughta do huh?"
Still, the raccoon remained unchanged and cold explaining what was right to her in a more brief and blunt sentence of hopelessness was like a giant insult for the hyena, her eyes would well up with tears of sorrow as he turned and continued walking giving her the cold shoulder. Undisturbed by the woman and the actions he chose to take in a situation such as that, showing he believed fully in himself and his own problems keeping to himself. Maybe it was better this way in such a crooked settlement that had implanted itself onto this earth carrying a cruel illusion of safety and comfort in the apartments Turner Town had provided, If a man were to lay his head here and expect a better sleep here than somewhere else maybe what laid past this town in the deep and towering woods is much worse in comparison.
Retreating from the scene, things would seemingly de-escalate back to normal settings, walking a short distance to what seemed to be a club. A common trend within these dire streets were clubs and bars, flashy neon signs that looked hideous during the daylight. Sun shining onto all their imperfections, likewise to how hard people partied at night here, the rough streets would swallow up the weak whereas the strongest seemed to dominate in this lawless gravel road town, a straight road leading down with a showcase of apartments, destroyed buildings and clubs all connected into one. The surrounding terrain was seemingly completely forested from here with trees large enough to break your neck looking up towards their mighty height and stance.
(After You - Good Morning would start playing here)
He would relax, deciding to blow off some steam, leaning against a pillar that supported a small shelter just outside the entrance to the destroyed club from the night before, some people could be heard mumbling incoherently from inside the building as the raccoon would reach into his trench coat pulling out an old fashioned box of cigarettes and a gas lighter that has definitely seen better days with its deterioration of colour that was once a bright vibrant green, now withered to a mint colour. Hell, it still did it's job well for the raccoon in dire need for some smoke n' stress relief.
The box would read "Nimblewood Cigarettes, 'Can't beat the classics!'" a comical mascot of a coyote on the front would most likely be the only positive thing to exist in this town so far.
Pressing the cancer stick into his scarred lips he would let out a soft sigh, using the gas lighter to give himself a light and simply relaxing. Thoughts traversed through his head, many negative yet some positive to give him the dire ray of hope he really needed in this situation, his body felt like it was dragging a weight around physically from his exhaustion yet he kept going. A song began to jingle in his head, a song he was very fond of and held dearly. It gave him comfort and he enjoyed even imagining it.
The ash on the opposite end of the cigarette would light up a burning orange as the poisonous yet sweetening smoke was chuffed back into his already scarred lungs, his one brief serenity in this world was a mouthful of smoke just momentarily he could relieve some stress.
All of this was quickly interrupted when the event that just unfolded minutes ago would come back to trouble him some more, the familiar song playing in his head while he had his ciggie break would be brought to a swift end as a man would approach, the same man who was watching from across the street now seemingly distraught in a silent but ready to burst anger at the short fused and socially awkward raccoon.
"You got some nerve crawlin' into this town like you have a place here boy, I'm surprised they still give beds to outsider scum like yourself, you try'an start more trouble around here and you'll own up for it. Mark my words ya' little bastard" The man had a deep and intimidating voice, his physique and small height of around 5 feet n' up would give up the ghost of his supposed intimidating bluffing. Dressed in a dirty black suit along with a oddly red tie that caught the raccoons eye to match along his stained white shirt underneath, a dog in appearance and definitely the type that would run around scaring off the sheep in their feral prime. His competitor would remain silent their green eyes scanning him up and down as he smoked more of his cigarette clearly bothered by his appearance but not wanting to cause much more trouble than he needed to. Although he was bothered immensely by this interaction, avoiding eye contact and looking down the long and lonely road that led into the forest.
"White hand has eyes on this whole damn town boy, we'll throw you back out to the parasites that dwell among your Outsider kind." The sheep chaser would continue his rant with a lot of pent up anger from the scene beforehand that was brewed from an unknown yet mysterious and sinister thought in his head, another supposed gangster of this infamous white hand gang that ran influence over such a small run down town "Do I, make myself clear? You don't kill anyone or hurt anyone here that has debts to pay up first that's the rules. Then you're free to do what you wan' wi' em" Finishing his rant off with a messy conclusion he would spit onto the raccoon in disgust and also a display of dominance over the silent raccoon that sat watching unchanged and motionless by what he had to say, the saliva would land along his trench and the dog would walk off..
The dog's left paw pad was painted a complete white colour, showcasing a gang symbol of some sorts as he walked off. The residents that stood outside their own buildings like a weird territorial dispute would be watching from across the street with an emotionless and other times angry expression it varied from person to person as they silently judged the troublemaker. What kind of ill minded folk are running this place? The raccoon wasn't inflicted nor troubled giving off the impression he had came by this scenario many times over. The cigarette would drop from his fingers and he would stomp the butt out on the filthy gravel below his feet, His paw pad would numb most of the pain and continuing his silent act he would then walk in the opposite direction of the troubled gangster and further away from the scene balling his paws up in the comforting pockets of his trench coat.
Wind would run through his fur and up along his face in a cold breeze blowing the green coloured hair that extended from his hat over his eyes messily, the dust from the gravel flooded the place like a visible noxious gas that hurt to breathe in. Thoughts would fill his mind and numerous of them about the gang problem in this lawless settlement, he had hoped the White Hand wouldn't be here but this was a crappy town after all so he wasn't much surprised. The sheer fact he was deemed nothing more than a filthy Outsider as if he was a random baum who wandered into their town filled him with a silent rage but as always the respect he had in his heart was burning a slowly dying flame and he chose to swallow his pride and let it go to avoid conflict and attracting his enemies that were After Him. Stopping in front of a neat yet small convenience store his eyes would gaze up at the bricks that definitely needed a fresh coat of the red paint they were smothered with, his destination was here. His exposed feet would smack against the wood of the 3 stair climb to the patio of the business and onto rough wooden planks, as he tried to open the door gently it didn't stop a loud bell ringing out from the inside as the door hit into it, the manager was now aware of the raccoon's entrance to his business whomever that may be.