![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
COULSDON, SURREY, WEDNESDAY EVENING
Mar. 7th, 2012 08:29 pmAnother full moon, and this one gave Jack a fenced garden of his very own to weather it in.
He rarely thought on the precise size of the bank account Sebastien had given him along with his indentureship papers when he turned 14. He knew it had always been enough to pay his tuition and living expenses; the fact it also made him a moderately well-to-do young man had never been of particular interest to him.
But when it meant the difference between having a safe place to weather a transformation, and managing the monthly crisis in parks and sewers ... money had its uses.
Jack suspected the estate agent thought his fixation on only being shown fenced properties was entirely mad; she kept pointing out that fences weren't in style, and wouldn't he rather have a nice flat closer to the city? But she'd found the sort of place he needed -- a cottage, forty years old and not especially well maintained. But the fence was high and beyond it there was only a patch of woods rich in fat rabbits, and besides, he was running out of time.
He took the house.
He'd taken a job, too, though that seemed less exciting. He'd been hired to man the front desk in a law office. The hiring manager swore he'd be used as a researcher when things got busy, but in the last week he'd seen little evidence they ever would.
On the bright side, the sleepy nature of his job meant no one was especially interested when he shut down his work station half an hour early to scurry home before sunset.
And now he sat in his new yard, wrapped in a musty-smelling blanket and praying to God none of his neighbors were the sort to point binoculars at the new resident, as he waited for the pain to begin.
[OOC: Establishy. NFB.]
He rarely thought on the precise size of the bank account Sebastien had given him along with his indentureship papers when he turned 14. He knew it had always been enough to pay his tuition and living expenses; the fact it also made him a moderately well-to-do young man had never been of particular interest to him.
But when it meant the difference between having a safe place to weather a transformation, and managing the monthly crisis in parks and sewers ... money had its uses.
Jack suspected the estate agent thought his fixation on only being shown fenced properties was entirely mad; she kept pointing out that fences weren't in style, and wouldn't he rather have a nice flat closer to the city? But she'd found the sort of place he needed -- a cottage, forty years old and not especially well maintained. But the fence was high and beyond it there was only a patch of woods rich in fat rabbits, and besides, he was running out of time.
He took the house.
He'd taken a job, too, though that seemed less exciting. He'd been hired to man the front desk in a law office. The hiring manager swore he'd be used as a researcher when things got busy, but in the last week he'd seen little evidence they ever would.
On the bright side, the sleepy nature of his job meant no one was especially interested when he shut down his work station half an hour early to scurry home before sunset.
And now he sat in his new yard, wrapped in a musty-smelling blanket and praying to God none of his neighbors were the sort to point binoculars at the new resident, as he waited for the pain to begin.
[OOC: Establishy. NFB.]
