Thread: To Catch A Murderer (Athene & Razgriz)

27th July, 2017 The world had officially - and almost literally - gone to shit. Hell all but froze over, or at least emerged, all over the world. Yet no matter where anyone lived, it was easy to see which countries had been hit the hardest, and which had been given the slightest hints of mercy. One nation that fell under the aforementioned, unfortunately, was the United States. All because of that asshole, Trump ... The lamenting thoughts could easily have come from anyone, as a good majority of people who voted for said man were now regretting their choice. And for a damn good reason several of them, actually. In the case of eighteen-year-old Justin Hopkins , this country was just not in the right condition. Granted, he had never been overly concerned about his academics to begin with. Now, however, there was absolutely no chance, no opportunity for him to even consider turning his mindset around. Why bother when unemployment was - once again - beginning to dominate the nation? Only a fucking matter of time before we become ruled by a literal tyrant, after all, he muttered, leaning against the alley wall behind him and reaching down into the pocket of his black jeans. He fumbled around for a few moments before finally finding what he was looking for his last pack of cigarettes. Justin's brows furrowed as he noted the once full contents had dwindled to a measly three cancer sticks left. ... Ah well. That's why you do things your own way. To make up for not being the best with the more 'typical' subjects, he was street smart. Excelled at hacking, stealing, manipulating and overall using people. Some deemed him a con artist, others merely a nuisance. Whatever the case, it had been enough to land him in juvenile prison several times. Truthfully, he should be incarcerated as an adult, given he recently hit the age of eighteen. However, on his birthday, Justin had managed to come up with a way to avoid it. In the end, the security cameras of the facility he'd been held in manually shut off, soon followed by all of the electricity. Once the latter officially happened, the cell doors opened. From there, it was literally a simple walk out of the prison, as all of the other inmates had ... other things to worry about. Certainly more so than a mere child, or that was probably what they figured Justin was in their eyes. To be fair, it wasn't an unfair assumption. It had saved his ass, if he had to be brutally honest. But .... ah well. Their loss. Sighing softly, he reached back into his denims and retrieved his lighter. Before he could pull his thumb down and spark a flame, however, the wailing, unmistakable cries of sirens echoed throughout the streets of Missouri City, Texas. Despite not being born here, it had been the place Justin ended up escaping to. .... Thinking back, maybe he should have done more research. A casual shrug was made by his shoulders as Justin calmly walked further down into the alley, pulling his thumb down the lighter and lighting up his cigarette. Eh. Whatever. Moving behind ... some old-ass building that probably used to be a restaurant or some other business, Justin leaned against the cold wall. His head tilted up towards the sky as he brought the cig against his lips, took a long breath, and exhaled a long, gray cloud of smoke. You got yourself outta prison easily enough. You can do the same with this lame excuse of a city. That was the best and worst thing about places like Missouri City it was easy to lay low. And yet, the fact it didn't have an overly huge population made it somewhat difficult to keep hiding out. Houston, San Antonio, Austin ... you need to get to one of the bigger cities. Ones where it's much easier to mingle in with the crowd, literally or otherwise. Nodding to himself, seeming content with the plan, Justin's eyes closed, ignoring the beeping that came from his pocket. Fuck off, he murmured, knowing exactly what the noise had been. It was meant to imply he had a text, likely from his mom. ... Probably. His dad didn't give a shit, not last Justin checked. And quite frankly, he had no intentions of trying to see if he was right, wrong, or otherwise. Unfortunately, the amount of fucks he given had been reduced to zero over the past three to four years, largely due to a mix of how his life had been going and still feeling adamant that his parents had done little to help advocate for him. True, a lot of it was his own doing and deep down, Justin knew he had no one but himself to blame. .... Yet ... he still couldn't help but feel like it wasn't only his fault. Weren't parents the people who were supposed to guide their children? Some shit like that? His head quickly moved from side to side as Justin blocked out the thoughts, taking another drag from his cancer stick as he exhaled, creating another cloud of extra smoke that rose into the air.