Giving Up

[swimmingtalent.livejournal.com]

[In a main room, sitting on a table against the wall, is a Demyx. This Demyx is dressed entirely in baggy street clothes, but that doesn't seem to mean he's too different from others of his physical appearance. At least, not in the musical sense. The guy's got two guitar cases next to him, and another under the table, plus a smaller one sitting on the table in front of him. There's a ukulele in his hands, and he's happily playing and singing away, to a happy and calm tune that, coupled with his cheerful demeanor, would make one immediately assume that he is in good spirits.]

[Upon second glance, however, they may notice the sarcasm in the scene he's created. Propped up against the ukulele's case is a cardboard sign. You see, this is not this Demyx's first time being here, but he's not about to complain. After all, there isn't much point, if you think about it. So instead, he has decided to play away, happy as can be behind his little cardboard sign, the words "FUCK IT" scrawled across in bold, black marker.]

Comments

[swimmingtalent.livejournal.com]

So you're from a world where all these people are... familiar, then?

[nocturncoat.livejournal.com]

Well, most of them.

... I guess I should've figured that you might not be, huh?

[swimmingtalent.livejournal.com]

Yeah, well. I grew up in a huge city, around millions of people.I might have seen some of these people, but I don't remember personally knowing the faces, y'know?

[nocturncoat.livejournal.com]

Fair enough. Out of idle curiosity, which big city?