A stray piece of paper drifts into the deep shadows of an alley, caught in an endless and quiet dance, like a flexible ballet performed in the dark, hidden from the eyes of anyone not paying careful attention. The graceful performance and its silent audience relying on the wind to guide it further.
Making leaps and bounds over the cobbled stone path, the paper makes voiceless exchanges with the elements of the city that go just as unnoticed by the waking world—like purposeless cogs in a clock, masked by the eloquent designs of man.
Almost as soon as the paper had started its routine though, it just as quickly came to an abrupt stop.
"Hyup! Oof-"
A graceless boy, swiftly drops in from a box, dressed like life had taken a bite out of him; he takes it upon himself to remove the dancer from the streets.
"Another crinkled little menace, back where it belongs."
Wearing a smirk deserving of a punch to the nose, the street rat tucks the now sad excuse of parchment into a threaded sack previously hung over his back, checks his laces and runs out of the alley onto open streets.
"And that is my quota for the day!"
Posed like a spandex hero that just saved the world, Leon scans the bustling activity of the city, his eyes skipping from head to head of the crowds, clearly searching for something.
'Where the hell is she? We were supposed to meet up here when we were done.'
His hopes of finding a white pom-pom head bobbing in the crowd ended long before it could have possibly yielded any results, his attention clearly shifting to the smell of food from a nearby stall.
'Well if shes not going to show that ugly mop... I may as well, right?'
Fishing out a less than elegant wallet, he counts his coins and makes way to the markets. It was a special day today, Leon would be celebrating his brother's birthday with a grand feast.
'Since I'm here...' He whistles to himself in a muffle, his focus jumping from dish to dish served by the markets in a frenzy. With nightfall coming, the streets were filled with a seductive aroma of herbs and meats cleverly intertwined with each other.
One smell in particular stuck out to him; the scent of roasting onion and garlic. It's smell was the strongest of the alluring mix, it was also the most common to see, only short of potatoes, which seemingly try to grow in any condition it dares to see fit.
This scent in particular though, did a great job of reminding him of better times. His mothers cooking, she would put it with anything that had a hint of meat whenever they could afford it, or she managed to scrounge some up from prematurely thrown away products of the markets.
Feeling a bit sad, he pauses, perching himself on a wooden crate. Nostalgia was often something described to be a sweet glimpse of better times, usually as memories to latch onto, complimenting the present or future. However, just like a sweet kiss there can be a bitter aftertaste, a reminder of what has been lost to time.
'Good one man, way to ruin a good mood. Just had to go and think of silly things.'
His face written with a sullen attitude, the aura in the area seemed to change. Shadows danced in slower, more tragic motions.
Passersby flowed past in a beautiful arch that betrayed their nonchalant attitudes, clearly they were trying to avoid the sad sack of rags.
"Well this isn't where we planned to meet up."
The smart-ass remark came from an equally as poorly dressed girl, her skin pale and smooth, with an almost lilac tint finish to it. Her frizzy hair standing out in the crowd like a strangely familiar pompom.
Sable was carrying a sack similar to Leon, smelling almost as bad as his, but not quite. Despite being just as much of a street rat, she uselessly held onto whatever semblance of her feminine elegance remained, which was basically none but no one seemed to want tell her that.
"What's with the drab mood?"
She pushed her hair up over her eyes, revealing an even paler, delicate face. Despite looking as though she was riddled with questions about his somberly attitude, her tone of voice seemed to pinch Leon in the side as if she had already found the answer.
"It's nothing. Just remembered that the soft meat wraps were raised by one silver."
He muttered, pointing over to a food merchant that was accompanying a sign listing the stores specials for today.
Like adding insult to injury, just as Sables eyes met the sign, the merchant wiped away the price for the soft meat wraps, raising the price to two silver and five copper. Leon had pointed at the sign when it was listed as one silver and nine copper.
"What? How the hell are we supposed to afford that?!"
Now in just as much of a grumbling mood as Leon, she faces her back to the crate Leon is on and throws herself up, joining his little pity party.
"Go find your own box somewhere else. You're ruining my self loathing with that stench."
Leon waves Sable away like she was some butler accompanying a very wealthy, and educated success.
"Asshole! You smell worse than me- When the hell was the last time you even bathed?"
She batters him with weightless hits, barely strong enough to even feel through the layers of rags used to form a poncho.
"Ha! I'll have you know, I don't know when the last time I cleaned up was!"
Leaning away from the friendly bashing, almost falling off the edge of the crate, Leon breaks into a laughing fit. The previously dull aura surrounding the pile of crates quickly dissipates.
The sun making one last break through the tall pillars raised by the city, some spots like a light show of bokeh through the scaffolding of the unfinished pillars. A beautiful gradient of pinks and oranges streaked across the sky like an artists palette of mixed paints.
"Oh crap, we still haven't clocked out!"
Sable jumps off the crate, for a second, she seemed to almost glide downward, just for a moment though.
"Come on, hurry! We can't be late again—or Lewis is gonna chew us out again, you know how he is."
Taking a few moments to enjoy the view, he finally gives in to the less than appetizing motivation, Leon gets moving, making sure to not lose the sack he had hung over his back, he picks himself up and gets running.