Mar. 26th, 2008

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We find Raph wandering the streets of Corus. One could say aimlessly, but really there is an aim and it's diversion.

You see, two hours ago Raph was invited to sit in on a rather important meeting at the Palace. An hour and forty-five minutes ago he was uninvited from the same meeting. Apparently snoring is considered disrespectful behavior regardless of who one is supposedly related to.
The drooling probably didn't help either.

So he did what anyone in his situation would do: He left without telling anyone where he was going and headed in the direction of the largest crowd he could find. Being alone wasn't enough for Raph, he had to be alone in a room full of people to really get his sulk on.

He kept his head low as he made his down Palace Way, pausing briefly to appreciate the armed guards to the Temple of the Great Mother, before continuing on through the crossroads where Palace becomes Market.

The market is as rowdy and bawdy and crowded as ever. Raph drinks it in, savoring the anonymity as it's the closest thing to New York that he has at the moment. A herd of children brush past him lost in some nameless game. With little more than a reflex Raph snags the smallest of them by the back of the shirt.

"Fork it over, Kid."

The little girl is unrepentant as she grudgingly hands over his money pouch. Briefly he ponders turning her over to the proper authorities, but realizes that'd do about as much good as following her home and shaking some sense into her parents. There's no chance of striking the fear of God into this little street urchin either, not by the way she glares. He lets her go, and she spits on him for his troubles, before disappearing into the crowd.

"Kids."

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Raphael

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