Deadbolt walked along the street, his mind with the shadows as he lowered his head. He hated being a security guard, and with the reports of crime he had been hearing about, he was not in the best of moods. His current rotation had him working late into the night, and even though he lived quite close to that particular bank, he hated walking in the dark.
Adjusting his stained uniform - some old biddy had splashed hot coffee on him because she was having a bad day and decided to take it out on him - he coughed, shivering as the wet stain let the cold air through the thin cloth. The cold weather certainly never helped, and most of his hard-earned bits went out to make sure he had a place to live.
As he rounded the final corner to where he lived, he stopped. Right in front, he could see a crash scene right in front of his building. Shaking his head, he slowly made his way to the front door, trying to fish out his keys.
"'Of course I can work this weekend. It's not like my PARENTS were visiting me or anything.' I hate that witch. Head of Security or not, she's out for my head." He sighed as he tried to find his keys; he was quite certain he had put them inside his pocket- he stopped. He had changed out of the OTHER uniform because of a hole in the pocket... which meant his keys were probably inside his small apartment.
"Dammit. Of all the times to have ONE ripped pocket." He turned, looking at the car. A weird black substance coated the front bumper of the vehicle, though it seemed like oil from his point of view. Without anything else to do, he sighed and walked towards the grouping of ponies around it. He backed away as a tow truck approached, along with another car. Sighing, he walked slowly back towards the bank where he worked.
It was going to take some explaining as to why he had to go back to work only ten minutes after he'd left.