[center] [h2][b]The Tale of the Broken Man[/b][/h2] [/center] [center] [i]"The smell is what I remember the most. It was as if carcass of the city was rotting around me, the smell of blood and shit envloped me fully as I walked the remaining block to her home. She was a saint, the last good soul in a city full of sinners. Looking back at it now...it was only right that the city stole the last light of hope.[/i] [/center] [center] [b]6:51 PM Offices of "The Roman Dectective Agency"[/b] [/center] The dying light of the setting sun irritated the digital receptors in his eyes as he stoically gazed over the main throughfare in District 16. The Roman glared at those that scurried their daily lives as he propped himself against the window his psudeo muscular structure glistened in the heat of the furnace that he called an office. Taking a moment to look at his reflection caused him to visibly flinch at the monster that he had become. The cold and dark metal plugs where electronic equipment was supposed to be plugged in always did that to him and as he followed them along his collar bone he eventually came to his fully cybernetic arm on either side. It wasn't until he lost the arms God gave him that he fully understood what it meant to 'touch' something. The condensation running down the three liter bottle whiskey in his left hand, the rough grainy wood that his right hand was perched on, all of these things were lost on him now. Taking another three chug swig of his whiskey before setting it down on his desk, which was covered in paper work, Alex walked over to his Victorian-esque couch and began dressing himself for an evening of torture that he had been dreading for a week now. About a month ago, in an attempt to get more connections and money, began dating one of his clients from a previous case. A rather stunnening blonde in her late thirties had taken quite a strong liking to him, the fact that he had caught a pusher that had been trying to black mail her probably helped with that, and invited him to a social gathering in District 4. To be honest he wasn't relishing the fact of Zone Jumping let alone rubbing elbows with high society. In a nutshell, that was how he gained all of these 'nifty' new features. If there wasn't the possiblity of expanding his clientele he would have told the broad to kick rocks. A buzzer came from his desk and a voice quickly followed it, [b][i]"Roman...ya suga momma's here.[/i][/b] [b]"That's not how that works Raynelle. Besides I'm older than her."[/b] [b][i]"Whateva...she's here."[/i][/b] [center] [b]7:24 District 4-Outside a lecture hall; Moments before a lecture[/b] [/center] This 'reception', if it could be called such, was the exact reason that why he didn't want to come here. The broad, he had forgotten her name already, had ditched about ten minutes into the affair to go covort with her hoite-toite friends leaving him alone with a room full of egg heads and high nosers looking to make it to District 0 one way or another. To top it all off the clientele pickings were slim, and that was a charitable wording. Taking a moment to steal away from the 'enlightening' conversation and take a smoke break outside. After lighting and taking a drag of the strong menthol death stick Alex took a moment to read what was actually supposed to be happening here. A lecture on something called robopsychology from a prodigy student, Saunders he believed it was. He was appreciative of those far more intellegent than him, he was better off letting them do what they do best and let him do what he does best.