Portuguese wasn't Chris's first language. It wasn't his second or third, either. Luckily for him, most of the Brazilians here knew how to speak English. It was a common language course in the public school systems, after all. Through with harrassing the natives for directions, Chris wondered what his next move would be. There were no leads to follow at the moment. At least, none that would actually make any progress in his mission. Until something of interest popped up, the man would just have to sit tight and enjoy the scenery for now. And that was what he would do. It was fall in this portion of the world; the leaves on the trees were russet and orange, contrasting against the blue autmn sky. It was almost pretty enough for a picture, yes indeed.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow flee into the nearby alleyway. He reached for his pistol and slowly stalked his way over, hiding behind the wall as he peeked down it; no one. Was his mind playing tricks on him? There was always the possibility, but Chris hadn't much of an overractive imagination, keeping it for the most part under lock and key. The muscular male lowered the 9mm. and proceeded to walk down the rather eerie path. His gun may have been lowered, but he definately wasn't off guard.
One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four. On the fifth, he saw the shadow move behind him, quickly turning about and pointing his gun at--a rather freaked out middle-aged businessman with a very noticable baldspot. The man dropped his suitcase on the floor and held his hands up in sheer terror. Chris sighed and put the pistol into its holder, deeming it unnecessary to harass the locals. "Sorry," He said to the man in English, hoping that he spoke it. "I thought you were... someone else." Smooth. The spooked guy quickly picked up his case and fled without another word. "Dammit," Chris swore under his breath as he exited the alleyway and stepped back out onto the main street. "I could've sworn I had seen something."
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Portuguese wasn't Chris's first language. It wasn't his second or third, either. Luckily for him, most of the Brazilians here knew how to speak English. It was a common language course in the public school systems, after all. Through with harrassing the natives for directions, Chris wondered what his next move would be. There were no leads to follow at the moment. At least, none that would actually make any progress in his mission. Until something of interest popped up, the man would just have to sit tight and enjoy the scenery for now. And that was what he would do. It was fall in this portion of the world; the leaves on the trees were russet and orange, contrasting against the blue autmn sky. It was almost pretty enough for a picture, yes indeed.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow flee into the nearby alleyway. He reached for his pistol and slowly stalked his way over, hiding behind the wall as he peeked down it; no one. Was his mind playing tricks on him? There was always the possibility, but Chris hadn't much of an overractive imagination, keeping it for the most part under lock and key. The muscular male lowered the 9mm. and proceeded to walk down the rather eerie path. His gun may have been lowered, but he definately wasn't off guard.
One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four. On the fifth, he saw the shadow move behind him, quickly turning about and pointing his gun at--a rather freaked out middle-aged businessman with a very noticable baldspot. The man dropped his suitcase on the floor and held his hands up in sheer terror. Chris sighed and put the pistol into its holder, deeming it unnecessary to harass the locals. "Sorry," He said to the man in English, hoping that he spoke it. "I thought you were... someone else." Smooth. The spooked guy quickly picked up his case and fled without another word. "Dammit," Chris swore under his breath as he exited the alleyway and stepped back out onto the main street. "I could've sworn I had seen something."