☽ Darktown Charm :: Anders
Fenris may have been the only person in Kirkwall who enjoyed visiting Darktown. This was a sentiment he kept to himself, lest he be found insensitive to those who had no choice but to live there while he enjoyed a life of comfort above the plate. But there was something earned and crude and real that he appreciated in the poluted puddles of cigarette butts and plate drain runoff--a sense of life-altering freedom to the former slave that lacked when he sat in quiet luxury. Sometimes, the granite of his kitchen counter tops an the feel of well-made shoes and the sounds of china clinking beneath lofty chuckling as it drifted in from a neighbor's back patio dinner party reminded him too much of Minrathous.
And when they did, he dug up excuses to head below the plate.
With backpack shouldered and box in hand--both filled with another round of items set for donation--Fenris slipped his way through the doors of Anders's free clinic for the second time and nodded at the receptionist. "I would like to make a donation. No tax form, please."