2007-11-13: Wandering The Streets


Fenton_icon.gif Tyson_icon.gif

Summary: Two beings formally meet.

Date It Happened: November 13, 2007

Wandering the Streets

Uptown, NYC - The Bronx

Tyson is just wandering the streets. There's been stuff on his mind, maybe that was why he was out. At any rate, he was wandering around just to clear his mind. His dad would probably say something, but something about that fight with Mikhail bugged him.

The sound of a wheels grinding against the pavement can eventually be heard, as a little ways down the block rides a perhaps somewhat familiar figure. It depends, really, as Fenton hadn't lingered all too long at the warehouse the other day. He's sans his backpack at the moment, likely out for some fresh air and a chance to scar up the streets as he can before he bunks down in his flat to review some of his reading material for the upcoming quiz. The area's become a little bit more familiar to him what with his place not being all too far from here, and then having to constantly retrieve his cat from the local hardware store although he still couldn't figure out what the draw for Mr. Pibbs was, there. Maybe old Frank just smelled like fish. Or bacon. Whatever.

Walking along, Tyson decides to try and use his ability to look around. If it was his, he needed to try and refine what he could do with it. The sounds alerts him to something coming while he looks around to try and find it. Spying it, Tyson figured it was moving at a changing rate, but mostly constant and… there was someone familiar…. "Yo, yo!" Tyson calls out of boredom.

He kicks up the board to skirt the edge of the curb before hopping it down onto the asphalt, another jump setting it back up on the sidewalk. It's then that he hears the shout, and lifting his head, it doesn't take Fenton long to track the owner of the voice. The streets aren't all that crowded at the moment, although along this side it hardly got as bad as it did over in Times Square.
Fenton rounds the skateboard into a slowing arc before tipping the front end up as he sets his other foot down on the pavement. "Hey…" he greets in return, since it's only right he should at least do likewise. He blinks as recognition sets in. "Oh… you're… the one from the other day… at the… place…" That wasn't a skatepark.

"The Brawler's Headquarters, yeah." Tyson nods, "That was me. I'm Tyson, but feel free to call me Ty. What's you're name, anyway? You left before I could get it."

"Tyson, Ty. Got it." He nods in turn. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that." He considers expounding on that, but figures there really isn't much of a reason other than it just didn't feel like he was in the right place… well, aside from … not being in the place he expected. It made a lot more sense in his head the first time. "Name's Fenton. Fen's fine too," he shrugs.

"All right, Fen." Tyson commits to memory the name of the guy even if we wasn't going to fight. At any rate, it was late, and Tyson was tired. "It was nice meeting you, formally, and I hope to see you back some time. You know? There's more to do than fight at the HQ. But yeah, I need to get going. Later." Tyson says continuing on his way, not trying to upset his father by coming in any later.

"Yeah, later," Fenton calls after the guy, lifting a hand to wave as Tyson heads onward. He watches for a while before shrugging to himself, and letting his skateboard clatter back to the ground, he pushes off and rolls down the sidewalk, back enroute to his flat.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License