@"CourageCureRage"
At exactly eight in the morning - as indicated by a clock he somehow got into the room he currently was in - Teddy woke up. He sat on a crate of clothes stacked next to another crate filled with more random things (the torch jutting out of its loosely open top was a highlight) that he dragged into this basement so late at night that he ended up sleeping in a haphazard mess. Strewn about on the dank brick floor were his tan longcoat, the light blue dress shirt which admittedly did nothing but add buttons, a collar and stripes to his body, and his dark brown fedora.
"Oh me, oh my, this floor's too dank for me -" he sang, stretching himself out. His back hurt from the hard floor - he didn't have quite as much time to set up the makeshift bed he used on other days, and he was too tired to bother. Imagining funky background music he sang, "It's too dank, too dank baby - gotta get better shelter, gotta get a bed."
Actually, there were other problems more than a bed. He needed a lot more other things if he was going to stay in this basement for longer. The light was dimming - that needed fixing but for now he could get by on his own blue glow. It meant he had to deal with wearing short sleeves though because his face couldn't produce enough light to work with. On the wall farthest from the stairs was a clock, high above three crates of belongings he hadn't unpacked yet.
A couple of pipes were there on the right side of the mostly empty basement, and one of them began to leak the other night, which got annoying quickly. The slow steady drip drip was a metronome helping him sleep, as though a guide for his breathing and his heartbeat, though every now and then the water would get inside his eyes and throw everything off - kilter again. That too needed patching up.
Hunger began to gnaw at him, and so he started up the stairs. Humming to himself an old tune, older than he was, Teddy did not quite notice that as he went up the basement there was someone there.
The actual owner of the house stood there, staring at him.
And then Teddy stared back at Azza, frozen like a deer in headlights. He'd been caught, and to make matters worse he was caught without his coat - most people didn't quite take kindly to finding a glowing blue man in their basement (this he knew from experience).
"Uh, uh... your pipes are leaky... you might wanna get that, you know, checked out."
At exactly eight in the morning - as indicated by a clock he somehow got into the room he currently was in - Teddy woke up. He sat on a crate of clothes stacked next to another crate filled with more random things (the torch jutting out of its loosely open top was a highlight) that he dragged into this basement so late at night that he ended up sleeping in a haphazard mess. Strewn about on the dank brick floor were his tan longcoat, the light blue dress shirt which admittedly did nothing but add buttons, a collar and stripes to his body, and his dark brown fedora.
"Oh me, oh my, this floor's too dank for me -" he sang, stretching himself out. His back hurt from the hard floor - he didn't have quite as much time to set up the makeshift bed he used on other days, and he was too tired to bother. Imagining funky background music he sang, "It's too dank, too dank baby - gotta get better shelter, gotta get a bed."
Actually, there were other problems more than a bed. He needed a lot more other things if he was going to stay in this basement for longer. The light was dimming - that needed fixing but for now he could get by on his own blue glow. It meant he had to deal with wearing short sleeves though because his face couldn't produce enough light to work with. On the wall farthest from the stairs was a clock, high above three crates of belongings he hadn't unpacked yet.
A couple of pipes were there on the right side of the mostly empty basement, and one of them began to leak the other night, which got annoying quickly. The slow steady drip drip was a metronome helping him sleep, as though a guide for his breathing and his heartbeat, though every now and then the water would get inside his eyes and throw everything off - kilter again. That too needed patching up.
Hunger began to gnaw at him, and so he started up the stairs. Humming to himself an old tune, older than he was, Teddy did not quite notice that as he went up the basement there was someone there.
The actual owner of the house stood there, staring at him.
And then Teddy stared back at Azza, frozen like a deer in headlights. He'd been caught, and to make matters worse he was caught without his coat - most people didn't quite take kindly to finding a glowing blue man in their basement (this he knew from experience).
"Uh, uh... your pipes are leaky... you might wanna get that, you know, checked out."
