Too many rules and laws have already been pushed onto me, which only heightened the freedom I feel when the only limits are the physical ones like the distance that I could jump or the height that I could climb.
Parkour has really gotta be the best method of travelling out there, and it's certainly underrated when compared to all the other sports.
So, he's basically one of the ego-inflated faceless humanoid masses that this building housed, excluding the janitor. About a full tenth of the people in the building pretty much bought their way into work (which really is sort of against the point of working) and definitely aren't fit for their positions — blame gossip and open secrets, or maybe just smokescreens. The elevator stopped and the doors opened, allowing the douchbag that previously shared the metal box with me to get out.
No one else came in, not that I would've cared much anyway, being around formal people makes me nervous/want to punch their face/bury my pitiful existence in a big pile of books and facts and never dig myself out.
But then, it's quite dangerous and the mental requirements pose quite a problem… After the man stopped staring at me, I gave him a quick glance.
Impeccable suit, smug/stoic/sneering face, then coupled with professional looking glasses topped the feeling of a "pro" *coughmanwithastickuphisasscough*.
We regularly have veterans, those who played a long time ago, come back after years of absence.
Sometimes we hear that they have a hard time navigating through all the changes that were made over the years.
I certainly get that my attire, which largely consisted of comfortable informal clothes with my workplace's embalm, was a bit out of place, but seriously?
Don't these people have paper they're supposed to file or places they're supposed to be (like their work stalls or something)? But even so, it was a relief when the door to the office finally opened and I could enter the damn room.
But mainly the freedom, was undeniably worth dying for, even if I can only run and do rolls, maybe jump off an occasional ledge or two.
For nothing, nothing could beat the feeling of the wind and the knowing that my life is in my hands and my hands only, and mine to do what I want to, without restrictions (unless it's devouring a book, filled to the brim with magic and universes sans the concept us measly humans both love and hate, the concept of logic).
It basically gives you a set of "points" that you can use in a day, and each attack takes certain amount of points.