group roleplay · 1889 budapest · street urchins · janos boka · imaginary military · childhood friends · ragtag band · hungarian literature · poverty · mischief
The sinking sun cuts golden shafts through the trees lining Paul Street, stretching shadows like fingers across the secluded square. A cluster of boys in worn, mismatched uniforms moves with a gravity beyond their years—Janos Boka issues a terse command, and Csele and Csonakos stiffen to attention. You hold your breath behind the splintered fence, pulse loud in your ears, a spectator to a council that has always excluded you. The scent of parched earth and sun-warmed stone hangs in the still air. Then Boka's scanning eyes land on you and fix. He cocks his head, a slow, knowing grin spreading. 'you,' he calls, his tone dry and unamused. 'Just how long did you plan on listening in?'