He'd never had money this consistently before. Perhaps, in a technical sense, when he was a child and his parents paid for things, but that wasn't really comparable. He'd had more money at once before, but extremely sporadically. Over time, he found himself with his needs... actually met.
Neon had a lot to do with that. More than he'd admit with words. Somewhere to sleep, food and the resources to prepare it, and somewhere to go where he...
wasn't alone.
Not being alone changed things. It changed things in strange ways. It was almost as if he had more energy to deal with anything else that came up, and a clearer mind to decide his path through each day. As days turned into weeks, and then began to creep into months, Adder found each day smoother and less stressful than the last.
At least, it did until he got jumped while carrying a package of letters or whatever for Shi. It wasn't because of the job, and he accepted that easily now where he might have suspected his boss previously. No, it was just a pair of opportunistic thugs who thought him a richer, softer target than he was. He'd given their intent back to them good, and only sported a small bruise across the back of his left cheek, but one of them had had a knife. His coat had suffered badly, and when he'd twisted to see the damage afterwards he'd effectively torn it into two separate pieces.
He'd only had that coat for... a month? Not long at all, almost as long as he'd been living with Neon. And now it was useless. Useless as a coat, and Neon had pillows that were far more comfortable and better-smelling than the remaining fabric.
After he'd dropped off the day's package and tucked his payment securely into his intact clothing, he headed to the one thrift store he knew of. He'd found his now-dead coat there. Surely he'd find a replacement for it there as well. He wasn't expecting to arrive just as tons of 'new' items were brought out from the back, though. And a sale. He dropped his old coat into a garbage bin now that he was out of the cold, flattened his ears against the bustle near the entrance, held his breath against the tangled scent of soul-bearing society, and picked his way amongst the racks.
When he reached the racks with coats, he was sorely tempted to just grab the first one he saw and try to get out again, but that meant going back into the crowd. It was quieter over here, and anyway the first coat he'd grabbed was both several sizes too large (read: as large as was readily made, when he ought to have one of the smallest sizes even if he was slowly starting to show less bone) and honestly a painful colour. He wasn't looking for highlighter visibility, streaked with garish reds and pinks.
Not that his current clothing was all that much better, really. A plain greyish long-sleeved shirt that might have been closer to white once, but at least had aged to grey rather than yellow, and jeans only badly frayed in the back (and around both front and back pockets, and the knees). At least nothing clashed with his boots - mostly because he wasn't wearing any. He had socks in a pocket for when his feet got too cold, but he couldn't stand wearing other things on his feet.
Neon had a lot to do with that. More than he'd admit with words. Somewhere to sleep, food and the resources to prepare it, and somewhere to go where he...
wasn't alone.
Not being alone changed things. It changed things in strange ways. It was almost as if he had more energy to deal with anything else that came up, and a clearer mind to decide his path through each day. As days turned into weeks, and then began to creep into months, Adder found each day smoother and less stressful than the last.
At least, it did until he got jumped while carrying a package of letters or whatever for Shi. It wasn't because of the job, and he accepted that easily now where he might have suspected his boss previously. No, it was just a pair of opportunistic thugs who thought him a richer, softer target than he was. He'd given their intent back to them good, and only sported a small bruise across the back of his left cheek, but one of them had had a knife. His coat had suffered badly, and when he'd twisted to see the damage afterwards he'd effectively torn it into two separate pieces.
He'd only had that coat for... a month? Not long at all, almost as long as he'd been living with Neon. And now it was useless. Useless as a coat, and Neon had pillows that were far more comfortable and better-smelling than the remaining fabric.
After he'd dropped off the day's package and tucked his payment securely into his intact clothing, he headed to the one thrift store he knew of. He'd found his now-dead coat there. Surely he'd find a replacement for it there as well. He wasn't expecting to arrive just as tons of 'new' items were brought out from the back, though. And a sale. He dropped his old coat into a garbage bin now that he was out of the cold, flattened his ears against the bustle near the entrance, held his breath against the tangled scent of soul-bearing society, and picked his way amongst the racks.
When he reached the racks with coats, he was sorely tempted to just grab the first one he saw and try to get out again, but that meant going back into the crowd. It was quieter over here, and anyway the first coat he'd grabbed was both several sizes too large (read: as large as was readily made, when he ought to have one of the smallest sizes even if he was slowly starting to show less bone) and honestly a painful colour. He wasn't looking for highlighter visibility, streaked with garish reds and pinks.
Not that his current clothing was all that much better, really. A plain greyish long-sleeved shirt that might have been closer to white once, but at least had aged to grey rather than yellow, and jeans only badly frayed in the back (and around both front and back pockets, and the knees). At least nothing clashed with his boots - mostly because he wasn't wearing any. He had socks in a pocket for when his feet got too cold, but he couldn't stand wearing other things on his feet.
