So hey. I have this story that's been sitting a while and would like some feedback and maybe someone to bounce some other ideas off of for it. It's quite far from done, but this is the beginning. I also have a second draft I started when I thought I lost this one. I don't like it nearly as much but I had some other ideas I put into it I kind of want into this one. If I get feedback and anyone is curious I can post that too. Other than that a few warnings on reading this: brief mentions of smoking and implied nudity, and some possibly disturbing imagery. I don't think there's anything else in this (right now) that is objectionable. Tell me what you think? (:

Waking up was never pleasant. This time, it started with a dull ache in his ribs, coupled with a loud, metallic sounding bang out in the distance. There was one moment of confusion before another bang startled the figure, causing them to roll off the bench quickly, half falling into the bushes in a defensive crouch. Wild, fully dilated eyes cast around the surroundings for a second before the figure grimaced, groaning softly and screwing them shut. As the figure stood, his masculinity could affirmed. He seemed to be all limbs, the long appendages seeming to stick out oddly, he began to stretch, and had anyone been close enough to hear, the multitude of loud pops would be somewhat concerning. He reached up to smooth his thick, matted hair out of his eyes, trying to draw his fingers through and then making a face at the resistance in the snarls. A soft sigh escaped his chapped lips, and as he licked at them idly he also tugged his somewhat grimy shirt into place, he stooped and swept an item off the bench, a quick turn revealed the item to be a well-worn trench coat, which he slipped onto his slender form quickly.

He didn't like the sun. It was too bright, and right now it was really too warm for his coat, of course that didn't change the fact he was going to wear it. Soft humming could be heard from the figure as he began to stroll down the pathway, after a moment or two his face creased in concentration and he began to take jumps in a seemingly bizarre pattern over the walkway. There was no one around to witness at the moment, though even if there had been, he would have continued. One...One two three. Four..Five-Six. The pattern went on and on, one short leap, a pause, another short leap followed by two more of the same length going to the left, one long step to his diagonal right and then two quick steps forward. He had come back to the original point just to take two steps. His face split into a grin, showing his yellowing but perfectly straight teeth and splitting open his chapped lip. As the blood made a sluggish trickle down his chin, his eyes, as sharp and deeply colored as amethyst focused on the sky above him, his gaze going a bit distant as he took in the shifting shapes of the clouds. Tree, car, her face. No, don't think of her. But I already am. Well stop. But it's hard. Wait, are I arguing? That's improper grammar, who cares I'm talking to myself, correct grammar isn't the concern right now. He shook his head fiercely, a scowl in place on his face as he began walking again, this time in straight, even strides.

As he left the park he came to the various streets branching off, none of them deserted even on this early morning. His pace picked up as he kept his distance from the various passers by, occasionally getting an odd glance or two. Tourists. As he walked past various fruit stands, he snapped a hand quicker than a blink and grabbed an apple before his eyes slid shut and he seemed to vanish from where he was. A few passers-by rubbed at their eyes before shrugging it off, deciding they probably weren't awake yet. As he appeared several hundred yards down the street, he tossed his apple core into a trash bin.

A second figure suddenly fell in line with the male figure, this one shorter and stockier. He had on a stylish, expensive looking suit along with a low sitting, wide brimmed hat; it cast his face into shadow. The taller male glanced down, his face going carefully blank as his eyes hardened , looking much like the stone of the buildings around them. "What do you want with me Reese?" The tone he spoke in was measured, every word seeming casual and light, but the slight clip in the delivery was obvious. His fingers twitched slightly as he clenched at the material of his coat, pulling it a bit closer to him, looking every bit like he was about to bolt. The shorter man's mouth gave a slight movement as he cleared his throat, he tilted his face up to regard the taller man, his eyes still cast into shadow, but a slow, oily looking smile stole slowly across his face. He's like a living oil spill.

"Now now, Rouvin my boy, is that any way to talk to an old friend? How long has it been since we last had the chance to talk? Three, four months?" Reese pretended to ponder this thought, screwing up his face with a bit of mocking confusion before it smoothed out. As he gazed straight into Rouvin's eyes, the light shifted and his eyes were briefly visible. Rouvin couldn't help the slight tick of his mouth, gazing into the sunken, nearly hollow looking things. His eyes were a blue so light they looked nearly white, and his pupils so shrunken they barely looked existent. There was heavy lining and bruising visible around them, and his skin seemed to have an odd, almost shimmering cast to it, but instead of looking appealing it just made him look rather like a fish in polluted water. Rouvin licked at his teeth slowly and wondered how much they'd been giving him.

"If you've come to find me you're either desperate or about to ambush me. And I know for a fact that if you were trying to ambush me, your employer would have done better than to choose you to talk to me. So you're desperate then." Rouvin's eyes seemed to gleam with triumph and a small hint of malice, taking a bit of pleasure in the way that each word from his mouth seemed to cause the man beside him to tense. His steps becoming a bit less even, and his breath coming at just slightly quicker intervals. Rouvin was sure that had he laid his head to his chest, he would have heard a much more erratic heartbeat than even his posture indicated; he could tell when he got to people. "I'm not your keeper's supplier anymore, and I was certainly never yours. I won't do any favors for any of you, I don't want anymore of your dirty money. Not after what happened. Now." He cast his gaze back at Reese, his eyes seeming almost to blaze, and despite the shadow covering Reese's face, he could tell it was a mask of half-contained fear, anger, and shock. "Don't. Talk to me. Again. You got it, lackey-boy?" Reese grew very still, and Rouvin suddenly realized at some point they had stopped, though they were no longer on the main thoroughfare. His face, as he lifted it contained no amount of control anymore, it looked like a cracked stone, eyes pale as ice chips, and his mouth a dark slit, curling deeply in contempt as he began to practically spit words.

"You think you're so much better do you? So special. You don't deserve even half the respect afforded to what you really are, a filthy hobo. You don't want to be contacted? Fine, but just know this." Here Reese leaned in close to Rouvin, his smile looking stilted and odd, Rouvin idly observed he was missing a few teeth. "The next time someone comes for you? It won't be for a social call." And just like that, the man spun on his heel and strode out of the alleyway, there was no telling which way he even went because Rouvin slid his eyes shut immediately. Fishing in one of his deep pockets, he slipped out a package, as he flipped it open he seized one of the two remaining cigarettes and brought it up to his mouth, holding it there he dug a bit further and pulled out a lighter. As he cupped his hand over the flame that emerged from it and took a deep inhale of the smoke, he leaned the long expanse of his body back against a dingy wall. Guess I can't stay here anymore.

He left his cigarette still burning and only half used on the dark, stained asphalt in the alley. As he walked out, he crushed and ground it out with the heel of his boot. And then he was gone, coat flaring slightly as he made a turn around the corner and long limbs moving in perfectly fluid motion.

There was a harsh glare reflecting off scattered pieces of dirty glass littering the narrow street he was walking along. Rouvin cast his gaze around him; seeing no one he quickly hopped a high chain link fence surrounding what appeared to be an empty concrete lot, weeds growing up from various cracks splintering the barren, ugly looking area. He quickly reached down the collar of his shirt, drawing out an object that hung from a simple black cord on his neck. It looked like a piece of misshapen metal, blackened in some places. He rubbed his thumb along a prominent ridge, mumbling a few quiet words before it began to glow faintly, the concrete underfoot looking faintly shimmery. He quickly took a step forward, disappearing down into it completely.

Rouvin couldn't fight off the grin that crept onto his face as he dropped down into his so called Secret Hideout. Some might have called the idea of such a place childish, but Rouvin had never much felt like an adult anyway. He shrugged off his long trench coat, placing it onto a nearby coat rack, which seemed to have only one peg. Rest well, my friend. He stretched languidly, and then stripped off his shirt, tossing it into a pile that seemed to consist entirely of shirts he had done the same to. His revealed torso cast some light on the slight oddity of his usual movements A long, thick looking scar marred his back across his shoulders, which appeared to be pushed slightly too far forward and up. Without his coat to cover him, a very slight hunch as well as his arms slightly stilted swinging was visible. He was littered with various other smaller scars and burns, but none quite so severe as the one spread across his upper back. He padded over to what seemed to be a dresser made out of translucent red plastic, digging around in several drawers before pulling out various articles of cleaner clothing. He quickly removed his lengthy golden belt, his darkly coloured pants pooling at his ankles immediately. Rouvin frowned and touched his hand to his thin waist, peering at his protruding ribs and hip bones in a kind of disconnected curiosity. He shrugged, kicking his pants away, slipping off his boxers with almost the same ease. He was already barefoot and placed his clothes on top of his dresser before skipping across the cool, smooth floor. He reached a shallow basin, probably a foot or two deep, looking slightly more roughly hewn than the rest of the floor. He banged the flat of his fist on the wall, hard, listening for a moment before turning a large knob that stuck out awkwardly from the wall. Soon a stream of lukewarm water began to pour out of a pipe that seemed to run far up out of sight, and Rouvin sunk into the simple bliss of a shower.

After he was relatively well clean, his hair and body scrubbed with a slightly grainy looking bar of soap, and a few attempts at running a brush through his thoroughly tangled mass of hair, Rouvin slipped his cleaner clothes on. He sighed and cast his gaze around the room. I'll miss this place.

Here's the other version I've written as well. As you can see it's shorter and stopped sooner.

There was a wet breath at the base of his neck. He wasn't prepared for that, he wasn't prepared for the rasping noise in his ear or the cold, clammy skin grabbing at him. He tried to fight it, tried to turn away before it would drag him back in. But his muscles inevitably clenched when the burbling croak broke through his senses. "Why didn't you save me?"

A tall spindly figure flopped from its cramped perch on a beat up bench with a strangled cry as its eyes shone far too bright in the ashen, pinched face. He was up in an instant, panting almost as harshly as the figment that had been haunting his consciousness only a moment before. With a shuffle and a bird-like tilt of his head he looked up to observe the weak morning sun breaking through the branches of half defoliated trees. 'So begins a new day.' His face twisted into something resembling a smile as he began to pat himself down, checking every pocket and stitch of his elaborate coat as well as his well worn cargo pants. 'All there, all there. You're safe.' His eyes opened and shut again, the gleam in them still fever bright before his face fixed itself into a more correct if impossibly more manic angle as he suddenly leaped forward, all gawky limbs composed.

He landed on the tip of one toe with his arms stretched wide on either side, head cocked and other leg behind him. His grin still stretched his face as he made his way down the path in front of him, easing carefully in his huge steps and short leaps as he hummed a tune, arms swaying as he staggered along. 'One. Two. One two. Breathe. One. Two. One two. I wonder if sh-,' he came to a sudden halt as he physically shook his head, taking the time to bend over, even positioned awkwardly on one leg as he was, to slap at the side of his head. "No. No no. No. Not today." He continued to try to forcibly shake the thoughts out of his head for a moment as he murmured quietly to himself for a moment before he righted himself. He set off much more sedately in a nearly normal walk, strides long and limbs held close, down the path out of the park he had been in.

The buildings rose up tall and almost impossibly solid around him as he made his way down the dull stone of the walkway, head ducked slightly as he made with way through the sparse crowd making journeys around him. A woman caught his eye as he made his way, and the cool composure slipped from her face slightly, voice petering out on her business call. A moment later she replied to the slightly snappish voice on the other side that she didn't know what had happened, she had felt some kind of spark and everything seemed too bright for a moment. The voice on the other side seemed much more concerned as the woman continued her call, trying to will the headache that had taken up residence in her temples away.