Like many people in poverty, Sean Conlon was not exactly a fan of the status quo, but what the hell was he going to do about it? He focused on what mattered - looking after himself, and sharing whatever excess he had with the small gang of boys who'd taken shelter in the same corner of the slums that he had.
(The fact that he always begged, borrowed or stole enough to have excess was neither here nor there)
Those in power don't care about people like Sean, and that's the way he likes it - he's careful about his acquisitions and he doesn't make a splash, so when certain groups pull their big showy heists and cause the slums to get overridden with law enforcement for a few days, he can't help but glare at them when they show up to dish out their charity once the heat has died down. He never takes it, he's too proud for that, but he'll encourage the boys to - whatever gets them what they need.
He recognises most of that group by sight, now, and he's had more than a few shoving matches or near-brawls in the street when he runs into them and picks a fight over nothing. One of those fights ends in a black eye for Sean, a bloody nose for the boy he's fighting with, and somebody threatening to call in the guard if they don't knock it off.
So Sean runs, dodging down streets he's known all his life, the route home practically programmed into his feet. Until his usual path is blocked off and he has to take a different turning, ends up in an area he's less familiar with because he knows it's a dangerous place to be. Too dangerous, as it turns out.
~~~
He blinks awake in a cage, there's a man he doesn't recognise sitting on a chair nearby, standing guard over a few similar cages - all unoccupied at the moment. His body is aching and his mind is fuzzy, he doesn't know how he got here or even where 'here' is, but he knows he wants to get out.
He sniffs the air experimentally. The man smells like a wolf, though the room is criss-crossed with dozens of other shifter scents of varying ages, and something about that makes him nervous. His eyes dart around trying to find some kind of escape route but while he can see a door it's clearly alarmed and he'd have to get out of the cage first, not to mention past the guard.
Just then, though, he gets incredibly lucky. Chaos erupts in another room and the guard goes running to see what's happening. Alarms start wailing and he can hear shouting, until suddenly the voices are all he can hear; the alarm cuts off abruptly and the building is plunged into darkness. As his eyes start to adjust to the light he realises that the cages have electronic locks - locks that are now open.
He doesn't waste any time, just bolts out through the exit door and into the alley beyond. He doesn't stop running until he's streets away and gasping for breath.
He can't just keep running though, he needs to get somewhere safe. Wherever that might be. He searches his clothes for any answers but there's nothing in his pockets and the closest he gets to something is a smear of blood on his sleeve that smells familiar, but not like him. He breathes it in for a moment before stripping off the shirt and his pants and dumping them into a pile of garbage out the back of a restaurant. He shifts and starts running again, criss-crossing busy streets and running through puddles and tracing back on himself until even he isn't sure where his scent leads, just in case they try and track him.
Then he finds a tiny splatter of blood on the ground, it smells like the one from his sleeve. He doesn't have any other plan, so he follows the scent, patiently tracking it back to the back door of a building that could be anything. It's dark by the time he arrives, and he's exhausted - too exhausted to force a shift so he can knock properly. He butts his head ineffectually against the door before giving up - the alleyway he's in is pretty secluded, he can take a nap here to regain some of his strength and try again later.
So that night anybody going near that door is going to find a peacefully sleeping leopard curled up outside it.
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Tabula Rasa
Date: 2025-01-26 07:04 pm (UTC)(The fact that he always begged, borrowed or stole enough to have excess was neither here nor there)
Those in power don't care about people like Sean, and that's the way he likes it - he's careful about his acquisitions and he doesn't make a splash, so when certain groups pull their big showy heists and cause the slums to get overridden with law enforcement for a few days, he can't help but glare at them when they show up to dish out their charity once the heat has died down. He never takes it, he's too proud for that, but he'll encourage the boys to - whatever gets them what they need.
He recognises most of that group by sight, now, and he's had more than a few shoving matches or near-brawls in the street when he runs into them and picks a fight over nothing. One of those fights ends in a black eye for Sean, a bloody nose for the boy he's fighting with, and somebody threatening to call in the guard if they don't knock it off.
So Sean runs, dodging down streets he's known all his life, the route home practically programmed into his feet. Until his usual path is blocked off and he has to take a different turning, ends up in an area he's less familiar with because he knows it's a dangerous place to be. Too dangerous, as it turns out.
~~~
He blinks awake in a cage, there's a man he doesn't recognise sitting on a chair nearby, standing guard over a few similar cages - all unoccupied at the moment. His body is aching and his mind is fuzzy, he doesn't know how he got here or even where 'here' is, but he knows he wants to get out.
He sniffs the air experimentally. The man smells like a wolf, though the room is criss-crossed with dozens of other shifter scents of varying ages, and something about that makes him nervous. His eyes dart around trying to find some kind of escape route but while he can see a door it's clearly alarmed and he'd have to get out of the cage first, not to mention past the guard.
Just then, though, he gets incredibly lucky. Chaos erupts in another room and the guard goes running to see what's happening. Alarms start wailing and he can hear shouting, until suddenly the voices are all he can hear; the alarm cuts off abruptly and the building is plunged into darkness. As his eyes start to adjust to the light he realises that the cages have electronic locks - locks that are now open.
He doesn't waste any time, just bolts out through the exit door and into the alley beyond. He doesn't stop running until he's streets away and gasping for breath.
He can't just keep running though, he needs to get somewhere safe. Wherever that might be. He searches his clothes for any answers but there's nothing in his pockets and the closest he gets to something is a smear of blood on his sleeve that smells familiar, but not like him. He breathes it in for a moment before stripping off the shirt and his pants and dumping them into a pile of garbage out the back of a restaurant. He shifts and starts running again, criss-crossing busy streets and running through puddles and tracing back on himself until even he isn't sure where his scent leads, just in case they try and track him.
Then he finds a tiny splatter of blood on the ground, it smells like the one from his sleeve. He doesn't have any other plan, so he follows the scent, patiently tracking it back to the back door of a building that could be anything. It's dark by the time he arrives, and he's exhausted - too exhausted to force a shift so he can knock properly. He butts his head ineffectually against the door before giving up - the alleyway he's in is pretty secluded, he can take a nap here to regain some of his strength and try again later.
So that night anybody going near that door is going to find a peacefully sleeping leopard curled up outside it.