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(no subject)
It's late when Avicebron ventures from the warehouse he calls home. It's been a while since he's ever emerged before dark. In this part of the city, it's quiet at night, and the spaced-out street lamps means even the few passersby probably won't see much of him, which is perfect.
The less contact he has with other people, the better.
His cane taps steadily against the pavement as he makes his way towards the corner store -- he's made an arrangement with the owner there to have all of his food and supplies delivered there to pick up at his leisure. It's never anything fancy: the bare minimum of food and drink needed to survive, some tools, some android repair supplies. Avicebron pays the store owner in cash, like he always does, and starts making the return trip home.
He's walked this same path many, many times before, and even in the darkness, he can tell when something feels ... different.
It only takes him a second or two to realize that the door to one of the abandoned warehouses off to the side is open, a tiny sliver of light seeping past the cracked-open doorway. And there's sounds coming from inside -- muttered words and grunts and jeers. Multiple men, it sounds like. And not just having a friendly conversation.
As solitary a creature as he is, Avicebron still can't bring himself to completely ignore the situation. So he carefully approaches the warehouse, cane held aloft so it won't make any noise and instead limping closer to get a better look.
If there's trouble, he might go alert the authorities. Get them to take care of it. But depending on if the subjects involved are human or android, he might have to change his course of action ...
The less contact he has with other people, the better.
His cane taps steadily against the pavement as he makes his way towards the corner store -- he's made an arrangement with the owner there to have all of his food and supplies delivered there to pick up at his leisure. It's never anything fancy: the bare minimum of food and drink needed to survive, some tools, some android repair supplies. Avicebron pays the store owner in cash, like he always does, and starts making the return trip home.
He's walked this same path many, many times before, and even in the darkness, he can tell when something feels ... different.
It only takes him a second or two to realize that the door to one of the abandoned warehouses off to the side is open, a tiny sliver of light seeping past the cracked-open doorway. And there's sounds coming from inside -- muttered words and grunts and jeers. Multiple men, it sounds like. And not just having a friendly conversation.
As solitary a creature as he is, Avicebron still can't bring himself to completely ignore the situation. So he carefully approaches the warehouse, cane held aloft so it won't make any noise and instead limping closer to get a better look.
If there's trouble, he might go alert the authorities. Get them to take care of it. But depending on if the subjects involved are human or android, he might have to change his course of action ...
no subject
"You say they were supposed to capture you. But they were obviously intent on doing much more than simply disabling and transporting you. Don't be foolish."
His words are stern, but not unkind, and he glances over his shoulder at the sound of the shouting growing distant. It sounds like those men are heading off in a different direction, and Avicebron breathes a ragged sigh of relief.
"... rest assured. You're free to go wherever you like, once your repairs are complete. But until then, I'd ask you to listen to me." He moves a bit slower, now that they're not in immediate danger, squinting at the street signs ahead. He's taken a slightly roundabout path in the rush to get away from those men, but he knows his way around this place. "It isn't much further."