"Wh-who are you?" he whimpers, backing into a corner. He is shirtless, clad only in torn jeans and yellow steel-toed boots. On his waist, he wears two ancient revolvers, the brown leather of the holsters matching his eyes. Scars and burns cover the entirety of his back, all the way to the tail end of his light brown mohawk. "P-p-please, I don't want no trouble. I th-thought this place was abandoned! J-just d-d-don't hurt me, please!"
Nick had been sleeping upstairs, abandoned buildings were better than park benches. He’d been on a demon case, and there was certinaly enough demonic related things to freak anybody out. He held up his hands instantly, to show the man he meant no harm. He very slowly pulled out his notebook and wrote quickly before sliding it over to him.
I’m Nick. It is abandoned, except I sleep upstairs because I don’t have a place to stay.
"O-oh… I c-can go, if you want. I’d understand you not w-wanting a freak of nature like me in y-y-your place…"
Nick went and retreived his notebook.
It's okay. You're not a freak. Just relax.
