[Closed RP | Marko and Colin- @boardwalk-anarchist ]
Santa Carla pulsed to life after midnight, flashing neon lights flooded out of the Arcades, the scent of the sea air mixed with the grease fried delicacies handed out from food booths. Music spilled out of every corner.. seeped into the pier.
People didn’t care- bikers and surfers prowled the boardwalk, missing posters scattered across attractions like wallpaper. Folks that lived here- they knew they belonged.
He sat there, outside one of the games booths, a deep gothic literature book clasped between his gloved hands. His pin riddled messenger bag sat beside him at his boots. The poor thing hadn’t even been there a week and he’d managed to become a local target- particularly for the surfers.
Surf Nazi’s as the locals like to call them.
Colin however, believed there was a slither of good in everyone- he didn’t hold it against them, he never did. That’s just how he was programmed. Raised in a.. traditionally feminine household- he’d grown up learning his manners maketh.. the person.. in his case- now. The man.
Moving away with his mom had felt.. strange. She’d called it a fresh start- away from his father. The same father he’d been hiding from. He’d learned to make himself scarce.. invisible around him.
Humoured by a fresh start to a town donned ‘The murder capitol of the world’ Colin couldn’t help but be skeptical. He however kept an open mind for her..
He’d spent the afternoon wondering around the boardwalk.. trying to find oddities to pique his interest. His only luck being a tiny store at the edge of the pier, filled with creepy little trinkets and literature to his hearts desire.
One thing he couldn’t help but realise however- the unnerving amount of people that spoke about not staying out after dark.
Surely just a ruse to deter tourists.. testing his luck- Colin had decided to brave the night, staying out. He sat there, under the neon lights of the boardwalk, fiddling with his bracelets.. an autistic habit.. whilst reading his book. Enthralled by the scents.. the new faces and experiences.. he practically tuned out the ridiculing from ongoing locals.
Roaring came from down the sandy beach, making Colin flinch, the sound making him clasp his ears uncomfortably. Swallowing hard, he shoved his book onto his bag, his eyes flickering towards where they’d parked. By the stairs by the pier… shit- they were coming here. He truly was in no mood to get a beating.
