Looking for trouble (Solo)

[Arukmada saison]

The streets were no different then they usually were in Sunberth. They were packed full of mainly grubby and low life folk, in the humid heat of spring. People were bumping into one another, fighting to get food from the shop and even the odd mugging in a dark alleyway. All this however, was a common sight. Sai was surveying his surroundings once more, crouching on the top of a building. The cool breeze came wofting against his sizzling skin, like a cold shower in the cooking desert. A welcome sensation. He slowly got up not wanting to attract attention and looked towards the next building. He stretched his arms and legs as he took a step back, before leaping towards it. His palm slammed against the rough rock of the house. He had just caught the edge. Pulling himself up with his strong physique, Sai then looked around this area. Over to the right he spotted two men. One short, fat and in a worn suite. The other tall, skinny and in an equally worn suite. The latter was waving around a bunch of Mizas in his hand. They appeared to be arguing about something, most likely some mishap in gambling. Sai didn’t even bother watching them carry on; he knew how it would end. It always ended the same way here. He looked to the center, where there was tons of traffic on the streets. People always seemed in a hurry when out on the streets, probably because it was safer to be on the as little as necessary. This point was further proven as he looked to his left, just seeing a glimpse of some young women being dragged into another alleyway, no doubt by slavers. He chuckled slightly as watched the city in chaos as it usually was. Sai turned round again to view his next building. This one was taller than in comparison to his last jump. He readied himself once more, cracking his knuckles and stretching his joints before taking a few steps back, and then sprinting forward. He leapt as far as he could, using his momentum to pull himself forward. He flung his hand out towards the edge, but alas just missing it and impacted against the wall. He came tumbling towards the ground at high speeds, but was then intercepted by a wooden plank extending off of a small window. He grabbed on with one hand and gripped tightly, his gauntlet covered in splinters. The plank couldn’t support his weight for enough time to grab onto the window, and he came falling again. He crashed on top the wet, slimy floor. As he ‘landed’ he rolled down the sloped alley way a few meters before picking himself back up and cracked his joints. Sai grunted as he surveyed his harshly beaten skin from the fall. He gave one more annoying grunt of "Why do I stay here." before covering himself back up again and making his way out to the street.

[Leviathan]

{{OOC: Please Timestamp your post}} Even in a city where you think you understood everything, you sometimes didn't. As Saison came stumbling out of the alleyway from doing whatever the fuck he was trying to do, he found himself staring eye-to-eye with someone, oddly enough, his own size. An Akalak! What were the odds of that! Yet, being barely thirty years old, Saison wasn't even considered an adult by Akalak standards, this man he was staring at, quite the opposite. He was muscular, even making Saison look pathetic in comparison. His eyes were cold and his bare chest was riddled with scar tissue and blemishes. This man had undergone something, torture, violence, severe accident, something for an extended period of time. He was rough, and you could just see it in his eyes that he had killed men before, and probably never once lost sleep because of it. "You'd best what where you're going. This is my street, I suggest you get your vagik out'a here before I bend you over and have at it myself." Harsh, unwarranted insults. The Akalak grabbed Saison's arm, pulled him out of the alleyway, and in one firm push sent him stumbling, though not falling, Saison was too confident in his footing to allow such a thing to happen, down the street a few yards. It wasn't until he turned around that he saw the Akalak standing in front of something, a child it seemed. Possibly eleven years old, sitting against a wall, his face buried in his folded arms and knees propped up to hold his arms there. There wasn't any audible sobbing, but the shivering told Saison that the kid was crying. Terrified? Without a doubt. Wounded? Who knows? Lost? Alone? At the mercy of this rough Akalak? Definitely.