waking up to a bright morning;

[Adam Redd]

Adam tossed and turned in his bed. It's not that he wasn't comfortable, it was the annoying light shining through his window directly onto his face that bothered him. Instead of getting up to fix the fallen 'curtain', he gathered up his blanket and held it over his head. It wasn't helping much though because now he wasn't as tired. He threw the blanket off of his face and started to massage his forehead. Adam hated getting up, and according to his small pitiful clock that stood on a wooden crate it was 10 AM.

Adam sighed heavily and sat himself up on his mattress. He glanced around his apartment for a moment or two and fidgeted around trying to find his pack of cigarettes. His flat was like most others in the middle district. It was a small one bedroom apartment, everything was in arms reach. His mattress lied on the floor against the back wall, and the only window was located right above it. Being as poor as it was it didn't have any real curtains so Adam used a pretty nice looking blanket to hide away the rays of the sun. Every once in a blue moon he would use his money to fix it up, but he felt there was no reason to if he was the only one who was ever going to see it. It was clean and had beige walls, the only things lying around the floor would usually be a few cigarette packs and sometimes clothes (if he was in a rush). Adam liked being clean, he did his best to keep it tidy. He had a lot of blankets and pillows on his bed, the reason it stayed directly on the floor instead of on a frame was to avoid it getting dirtier then necessary underneath it. And it was more comfortable to boot.

The only thing that didn't match the environment was his huge plasma TV on the adjacent wall. With the money he makes he has to indulge on something right? And under it was a fine short wooden table with large speakers on both ends. Piles of movies were scattered on the table, when he was bored he would randomly pick one and watch it. That is if there was nothing on tv (which is how it usually was). And then going down that wall you were brought into the small kitchen. It held a medium sized refrigerator, stove, and small counter on that one wall, and then across from it was a stretch of a longer counter with a sink embedded into it. Above that area on the wall were the cabinets. They were filled with boxes upon boxes of food (easy to make stuff), and only a little bit of dishware. Adam was but one person, and he never had any guests over. So a single plate, cup, fork, spoon, and knife was good enough for him. And it was a hell of a lot easier to clean up.

The wall holding the counter and the cabinets bulges out, so if you peek out from around it you're led into a short hallway (if it can be called that). Walking down it, on the right is the door to the bathroom, and going further down sitting next to the door on the left wall is a small closet. So if you walk in from the front door, the bathroom is on the left, and his mattress straight ahead. On that same left wall near his mattress is also a pretty large dresser. It holds his distinguished outfits, but he prefers to hang his coats in the closet.

This was the makeup of Adam's flat, he considered it perfect for him. It was never much of a hassle. Finally finding his cigarettes, Adam picked out one and placed it loosely in his mouth. Also on the floor was a lighter, so he grabbed that and lit the end of the cigarette so that it burned a bright red color. He held the cigarette almost like a pen, holding it in place as he took a long drag. Adam then took it away from his face and blew out a large gust of smoke. A cigarette in the morning is just what he needed.

* * *

He continued to smoke two more cigarettes before finally getting himself up to put clothes on. He put on his favorite attire of a white fitting t-shirt, black suit jacket (unbuttoned of course), and black trousers. Before heading out he made himself a cup of coffee. Adam had some throw away foam coffee cups, so he used one of those so that he could take the coffee with him. He made sure to grab his keys, his cellphone, and his wallet, and before opening the door he took a large gulp of his milkless sugarless coffee. Most hated it this way, but what can he say...Adam liked all things black.

He firmly shut the door and locked it, and then Adam made his way down the stairs to the outside. The air was foggy, the streets were littered. But it wasn't too bad. Maybe today he would get a job, that was always fun. Adam smirked and drank more of his coffee as he walked along the empty sidewalk.

[Emmet Grady]

Picking his way through the littered streets, eyes wide and alert, nose sniffing, ears trained on the slightest sound, Emmet Grady struggled to keep his mind on the task ahead. For the last 5 months, he had been stuck in this Godforsaken place looking for a man he had only seen once, and barely heard. He hadn't even caught a decent scent off him. Nothing. He had vanished without a trace, taking the only thing that Emmet held dear. Now he was the last survivor (as far as he knew) of the Grady clan.

Not many people were about. Only the usual amount of people going about their daily routine, the usual scattering of pigeons and gulls and a cat, eyeing the birds with hungry, longing eyes. The area was swept with fog coming off the Ocean. Unseen gulls cawed and the distant creaking of the boats and the water slapping against them rang out over the quiet Middle District street.

Closing his eyes, Emmet tried to focus on hunting down the man who killed his father. But Emmet could not concentrate. The windswept mounds of rubbish blew around his ankles and caused him to shiver, not knowing what all this crap had been used for. You never did in London.

Taking a further step, his boots sounding loud on the cobblestone, he looked around once more, sweeping the area with his gaze. The birds had scattered at his step, the cat now staring longingly into the sky; the people scattered here and there paid no heed, for nobody paid any attention to anything nowadays. Life was so still, so obscure, so....boring. Everyone rushing to get everywhere, nobody stopping to admire anything. Nobody thought or concentrated. Music no longer filled the streets, the clinking of coins being thrown into Buskers' hats. Nobody spoke to their neighbours.
"Ah," Emmet muttered dryly, "what a glorious day in London Town."