Threshold of Decision

Sitting ten stories up with his legs dangling over a ledge, Syrius stared at over the city in thought as he flipped through his recently started notebook and playing a small MP3 player full of epic orchestra music. For him, he would be deciding today upon which pathway he would choose to stay upon for the rest of his days. Looking at the two pages he had written in expensively, both were plans of his his own making. They outlined in perfect detail two different paths, two different careers. One he had followed upon for the past few years in his quest to just use his older skills for not so amazing feats. Thievery, espionage, and more were all under that list, with him being uncaring for whom he effected except himself. The other was a detailed outline and business plan to start a simple shop under a new name, a new life.

For Syrius, this was a hard choice. He was on the threshold to doing whichever he most wished to do, but he was equally divided on his want and need for both of them. Both satisfied his needs, but it was his wants that would be considered. Frowning as he stared hard at each page, the ex-thief thought about how his skills from the CIA had done nothing but make his life harsher and more painful then anything else had done so before. Even when his mother had died so many years ago from that murderer's hands... Sighing, the lone man dangling over the abyss just sat there, content to just mull over it like a chicken in a crock pot.

Suddenly in the building, he heard the sounds of a struggle, a knife entering flesh and rending it. A angered voice, and helpless cry, all coming from the room behind a window pane behind him. Blinking in surprise, Syrius didn't even bother trying to find out what was going on. He just pulled out his phone, dialed 911 and spoke as he heard the pleasant female operator on the other end of the line. "I'd like to report a assault at Castle Apartments. Possible murder taking place. It's near the top of the apartments, tenth floor." He then hanged up before she even got a word of advice or anything in. He couldn't be traced, couldn't be ID'ed, couldn't let himself be on the digital world. Taking apart his phone and tossing the SM card, it's battery and the phone itself in different directions off the high building before climbing down a few stories to sit on another ledge. What would he choose to do? Would he continue being a thief and criminal? Or a brand new life? Pondering the question and recent events, Syrius glanced from one page to the other right alongside it, uncertain. What to do, what to do...?

New Life?

Working his way through the crowds of the streets, Syrius wondered at his older career. Being a agent of the US government had been good, if a bit of a harsh life. Having to be cold and efficient, leaving behind family and friends... Well, one thing that flickered in his mind's eye the most was a few numbers. Specifically the number eleven and the number seven. They were his numbers, his designation way back when. Delta-Tango One-hundred and seventeen. Kinda strange how that is what he remembered out of all the horrors and miracles he had lived through in his service for the country of the United States of America. Oh well...

Humming to himself as he considered what to do today, the ex-thief decided on simply going with a cup of coffee and a nice sandwich. Maybe delve on old memories, see what he wished to truly do nowadays. Maybe he should get out of this city... Just move on and enjoy a new life? Or maybe he should just stay here and be a honest citizen. Could always be a barista maybe. He loved coffee after all. Shrugging, Syrius walked up to the nearby cafe and took his seat at one of stools at the counter. Ordering a cup of coffee and a turkey club, he tapped his fingers against the granite counter and wondered again about his life. Always running, always on the move... Maybe he should just accept the inevitable and pull the gun on himself? Or just go ahead and start a brand new life, forgetting his older pursuits of thievery and the shadow realm.

Taking the cup slid to him of coffee, he busied himself for a few moments with adding a bit of sugar and cream to the elixir and taking a long sip. Maybe becoming a barista wasn't all that bad of a idea after all. Could be fun to dazzle this town with something new... He had plenty of money after all to do it. Could become the next wave in this damn city of culture and oddness. Make some people give him curious or queer looks while they bought coffee from him. Chuckling at the thought, Syrius also noted the sandwich plopped down unceremoniously in front of him, took it up to take a large bite out of the crudely made sandwich. Though crude, it was still good. Maybe his shop should have sandwiches, breakfast, the whole works... Could be fun as hell to come up with a whole menu and decoration after all. Food for thought, and literally his stomach. Biting into the sandwich again, Syrius dozed into a state of limbo like he always did when seriously thinking on something while munching on the food clutched in his hands.