Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
The year is 1994 in downtown Brooklyn, where the people hustled and bustled about their day.
Traffic was, as always, hectic, as a young women honked her horn loudly at the black SUV that was parked directly infront of a traffic light.
"Let's go!" She yells loudly, and presses the horn of her car once more. Her vehicle wasent the most eye catching, with the paint scraped off in some areas and the sides dented, it didn't earn her the type of respect associated with the crap car blocking her way home.
The man driving the SUV barely acknowledges her as he looks out his review mirror, before looking down and continuing to munch on his club sandwich he bought from the deli down the road.
(Y/N) Alpin scoffs before averting her attention down as the small radio sitting in her console crackled loudly.
"Blaze? You there? Over." The small but faint voice of a young boy speaks through, and the women sighs as she reaches for it. She presses the her thumb against the small nob on the side and brings it to her lips.
"..hey Tails." She speaks softly. "How you feeling buddy?" Reaching for her can of Sunkist Orange Soda, (Y/N) takes a long swig as she waits for a response from the young man.
She cringes at the sour taste, before averting her eyes down when a dry cough crackles through the speaker. "Kris?" She says, sitting more straight in her seat.
No response. And (Y/N) finally shakes her head as the transmission cuts off. "Damn." She quickly flings her seatbelt off and grabs her soda before shoving the door open, not caring when it rams into the bright pink door of a Cadillac.
She opens her back door and grabs her old brown backpack, littered with stickers of the Sonic characters, with a bit of Marvel and DC flare across the side.
"You can't park here!" A girl screeches from the Cadillac like a banshee, and gasps in offense as all she receives is an upturned finger. "Then tow it." (Y/N) replies, and makes her way up to the man in the SUV.
She knocks on the window, and the guy all but sighs loudly as he rolls it down. (Y/N) fights the urge to gag when she sees his greasy face, smothered in barbecue sauce and mustered with an old white t-shirt, barely covering his fat stomach.
"You look thirsty." (Y/N) says blatantly, bringing her hand up and harshly throwing her soda at him. The can hits him square in the face, and the man yells in pain from the object before clutching his nose.
