i left my heart where i could dream
Rigby Arcara
Street Urchin

Age: 25 | Height: 6' 1" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#1
i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love
Rigby hated the lighthouse, in all its ivory beauty and mystic atmosphere. It was just another divine fabrication, created to draw in the weary and grieving and watch them crumble like stone. They'd pray their lives away surrounded by that magical light, and neglect reality. He hated it, and he was terrified of it.

He sat at the cliff edge, the lighthouse behind him shining like a beacon in the night. Though he wished to see it turned to a pile of rock on the ground, it did make a nice fake moonlight during this week of darkness. Long legs swung precariously over the jagged rocks, he leaned back onto his elbows and lit a smoke. As per usual.
RIGBY
Milo Kydd
Smuggler

Age: 28 | Height: 5’10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#2
MILO
now they're standing in the door
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"
The lighthouse is a place that Milo doesn’t venture to often. But when he does it’s usually to get some of the best views around. Even though it’s LongNight, he spends some time ensuring there’s no hels to come and ruin his day again, before he goes to wander around the lighthouse. He’s never been in it, not finding the need to get involved with Safrin when he was abandoned anyway. So he wanders, and watches the glimmer of bonfires along the beaches down below reflect against the cliff face. He watches the bioluminescent waves crash against the shore.

Then he smells a tendril of cigarette smoke, beelining toward the scent on auto-pilot, half expecting to find someone else sitting there. But instead, it’s a man he’s seen around a bit but never fully spoke to before. “Aye, didn’ mean t’bother ya.” He murmurs, nodding toward Rigby with a crooked grin. “Gods don’ answer durin’ LongNight so I wasn’ expectin’ t’find anyone up here.
that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"
Rigby Arcara
Street Urchin

Age: 25 | Height: 6' 1" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#3
i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love
Rigby didn't expect, nor was he hoping for, any company tonight. But it found him, in the form of a man with blazing red hair. He'd run into a couple gingers lately, he hadn't liked any of them. This one spoke right away, with the accent of someone raised on the coast. Where Rigby had a bit of the city edge, the man before him could've been born on the sea.

Whether or not he meant to be a bother, the redhead was impeding on Rigby's brooding time. At first the boy gave him an up down, blowing smoke from the corners of his mouth, then he looked back over the cliff face out towards the sea. It wasn't until the gods were mentioned that Rigby showed some emotion, surprise maybe, or disgust. The suggestion that he would be here to pray required correcting.

"An' that's exactly why I'm here, they aren't," he growled back, shifting his lean to relieve the pressure from one elbow to the other.
RIGBY
Milo Kydd
Smuggler

Age: 28 | Height: 5’10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#4
MILO
now they're standing in the door
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"
He had been raised near the sea, all things considered, and so it’s no surprise that their accents (while similar) are alike and different all the same. It doesn’t bother Milo at all, the dismissal that’s easy to find within Rigby’s tone. But Milo is nothing but persistent, flashing the other man an easy grin, pulling out a pack of smokes from his pocket to pull out one and put it to his lips. “’m sure.” He rumbles, seeing right through that lone wolf façade as if it were nothing more than a sheer cloth.

Y’got a light?” He asks, wiggling the cigarette in his lips for emphasis, before he steps closer and plops himself down next to Rigby with an easy grin. “I’ll give ya one fer the trouble.” Milo offers, flashing an amused grin Rigby’s way as he pats the pack with the cigarettes enclosed within it as if to explain what he meant.

Perhaps it’d be enough to stay in Rigby’s company, though he wouldn’t stop the other man if he chose to leave.
that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"
Rigby Arcara
Street Urchin

Age: 25 | Height: 6' 1" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#5
i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love
The 'm sure' that the other man gave wasn't entirely convincing, he obviously wasn't entirely convinced. And that was an irritation, those persistent few that simply had to be friendly, had to assume that they were wanted wherever they went. Fuck the amiable and joyful, Rigby just wanted another quiet Longnight.

The boy rumbled, groaned, and shifted over as soon as the redhead plopped himself down. A light? What, was he expected to share? Rigby stared blankly at the patted spot within the other man's clothes, where a pack of cigarettes presumably resided. He blinked back up to Milo's eyes, glowered, then let the smoke billow from his nose.

"No," he decided. Whether that was a no to having a light, or to the deal in general, he didn't explain. He just leaned back further, crossing his hands on his chest and laying flush against the rocky ground.
RIGBY
Milo Kydd
Smuggler

Age: 28 | Height: 5’10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#6
MILO
now they're standing in the door
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"
Oy, it ain’ much fun bein’ the broody type y’know.” He offers in response to the ‘no’, though Milo makes no move to get up now that he’s sat down. So he fumbles in a pocket at the ‘no’ and after a few long excruciating moments he finally finds the little pack of matches, striking one on the rock beside Rigby to spark it aflame, moving it to his lips to the cigarette that sat there unlit and ready.

He sucks in a sigh of smoke, shakes out the match, before dropping it off the side of the cliff and watching it briefly as it disappears into the dark night. And when he lifts his head again to peer back at Rigby, he finds that the boy has leaned back entirely, his back to the stone and arms on his chest. “Y’look like yer waitin’ fer yer funeral.” He offers into the darkness, shrugging tattooed shoulders and taking another drag from the cigarette.
that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"
Rigby Arcara
Street Urchin

Age: 25 | Height: 6' 1" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#7
i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love
The street rat's rude reply didn't send the other away, instead the ginger just settled in further, offering his two cents. As welcome as two shiny pennies would be, a second opinion was not, and Rigby ignored it with a puff of smoke into the pitch black air.

The peaceful silence that followed was brief, unfortunately so. Rigby craned his neck to squint over at the other, then glanced down at his own body. "Aren't I ever," he grumbled in response, chewing lightly at the roll between his teeth. "And why are you up here?" he offered, or rather accused.
RIGBY
Milo Kydd
Smuggler

Age: 28 | Height: 5’10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 3 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 13 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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#8
MILO
now they're standing in the door
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"
His dark gaze flickers back toward Rigby with a raise of his brow, an amused smirk on his face at the comment – also following the boy’s gaze along his outfit, along his body stretched out on the edge of the cliff. If Milo didn’t know any better, he’d say the kid was hoping to stay up here alone until he either starved to death or the sun came up – whichever came first.

Milo, for his part, isn’t easy to sway – a lot like a dog in that way, constantly wanting to stick his head into places they didn’t belong. “Th’view’s nice.” He says, pointing the glowing end of the cigarette back down the beach to the bonfires. But he pulls a drag from the cigarette, alighting his face in hues of golds and oranges as he peers back at Rigby suddenly. “Lemme guess, tho, yer up here so that’cha don’ have t’talk to anyone ‘n here I am ruinin’ that.” He snorts, as if amused by this.
that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"
Rigby Arcara
Street Urchin

Age: 25 | Height: 6' 1" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#9
i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love
Whether or not the view was nice, Rigby didn't have a strong opinion. Everything was dark everywhere, up here was just windier and lonelier. So he shrugged to the response, taking a drag as he did and blowing he smoke out into the night.

When the redhead spelled out for him the plight Rigby faced, the boy raised his brows as though thinking about it, then nodded, "Sounds about right." Quiet was a lovely thing, Rigby treasured every minute of it he could get. Which unfortunately always seemed too little. He stared up at the endless sky for a moment, then turned towards the other, propped up on his elbows.

"If you're gonna stay, I guess I could use that smoke," he said, squinting over at the other. Seemed a fair exchange, since he seemed to be stuck with him. Sure Rigby was providing nothing but his own shitty company, but that came with a price, Milo.
RIGBY
Milo Kydd
Smuggler

Age: 28 | Height: 5’10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#10
MILO
now they're standing in the door
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"
Call it an attempt to get them to see eye to eye, but Milo can read through what he’s done to Rigby. Only, much to Rigby’s dismay, he simply doesn’t care. He puffs from his cigarette, the young red head casting a glance to the other boy when the confirmation rings out into the air. A smirk crosses his face and he focuses on that small, minor win, where he can.

But Rigby’s turning toward him and Milo’s turning his head back toward the boy with raised brows of amusement, a quirk of his lips. “Y’gotta deal.” He fishes out the pack of smokes again, slipping one out and handing it to Rigby with a tilt of his head. He’d even light it for the other man if he wanted, Milo wasn’t picky.

’m Milo, by th’way.
that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"
Rigby Arcara
Street Urchin

Age: 25 | Height: 6' 1" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#11
i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love
Be amused if you want, all Rigby cared about was the prize in his hands. And he got it, a small paper roll in his palm. He reached for his own pouch in his pocket, pulled it out and stuffed the extra cigarette inside. He'd use it later, likely soon enough as his own light was smoldering into ash on the ground.

Back up to the redhead as a name was uttered, Milo, like a dog. Seemed fitting, "Street rat, at your service," he replied with a sardonic grin, having found himself enjoying the moniker that knife girl had given him. Had a nice ring to it.
RIGBY
Milo Kydd
Smuggler

Age: 28 | Height: 5’10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#12
MILO
now they're standing in the door
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"
Idly, he watches as Rigby stuffs the cigarette into a small pouch to keep on him and Milo finally tugs his attention away to other things, most notably the bonfires along the beach off the edge of the cliffs. They flicker and fade in the darkness of LongNight, mimicking the flame that settles on the end of his cigarette. Drawing in a deep breath, he can’t help but to snort at Rigby’s response.

The smoke burns when he does it and he wrinkles his nose before he angles his head back toward Rigby. “Pleased t’meet ya, Street Rat.” He flashes a wink of amusement toward the other man before he leans back on an elbow. “Name like that ‘n you’d think you were a parta the Ark crew.” He keeps his gaze neutral and away from Rigby, but he still keeps the man in his peripheral, as if gauging whether or not it was of interest for him.
that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"
Rigby Arcara
Street Urchin

Age: 25 | Height: 6' 1" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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Posts: 179 | Total: 1,111
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#13
i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love
Pleased, I'm sure; pleased wasn't often the adjective people chose to describe Rigby. He shook his head lightly, taking the cigarette between his thumb and index finger and holding it at his side. The smoke spiraled up until a breeze flew by, flicking some of the ash to the ground and dispersing the little cloud.

Then mention of the Ark, the band of smugglers and their beloved ship. Every year there was a flock to watch the crew be on their way, and where there were crowds, Rigby was either far away or watching from the sidelines. "I'd be boat rat then wouldn't I?" he replied, dark eyes drawing back up to Milo. "Me and captain Jack don't get along anyway," he added; last time they'd met the man had thrown a rock at Rigby's head.
RIGBY
Milo Kydd
Smuggler

Age: 28 | Height: 5’10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#14
MILO
now they're standing in the door
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"
Milo can’t help the huff of a laugh that leaves him with Rigby’s declaration. A crooked smirk sent the boys way while he flicks a bit of ash off the cigarette, his head tilting this way and that. “Yeah, I ‘spose y’would.” He returns, huffing another laugh and lifts the cigarette to his lips again. He peers out at the bonfires and the parties down below, offering a shrug at the mention of Jack should Rigby notice.

’m not sure if anyone gets along with Jack, t’be fair.” He replies, dramatically swinging his head back toward Rigby with the air of a sigh that passes past his lips encased with smoke. “’m sure half the time he jus’ wants t’get everyone t’leave him be. Sounds a bit familiar, yeah?” the crooked smile that crosses his face with this is a bit more mischievous in comparison.
that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"


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