No matter how much of a brute people claimed Ronken to be, let it never be said he didn't know when to run away from a fight.

 He was zipping through crowded streets and dark rusting alleys. A stream of curses leaving his mouth in-between labored breaths. After hopping over a man sleeping in the street and ducking under a random jutting piece of metal coming out of a building, he went to the right of a forked path. He went a few more feet before ducking into an unlocked door, odds were on his side the structure was empty, housing was an odd subject in Cogswell. 

 As he ran in his eyes could faintly make out the silhouettes of tables, beds, and chairs. A house seemed as safe a guess as any. 

 Crouching in the dark he peeked out the door to watch for his pursuers, at the same time taking deep breaths to calm himself. He stayed near the doorway for a few tense minutes. He couldn't wait to get out of wherever he was, smelled like something died. Good chance that was the case. 

 Granted the streets didn't smell much better.

 After another minute Ronken decided that the 'Slum Demons' had probably taken a different alley. He gave a little laugh to himself then, those guys always liked to act like they were smarter than him. And yet he was able to lead them into a bloody forked path and lose em'. If things kept up like this they wouldn't be collecting their debt any time soon. He could always find new providers.

 Maybe.

 Ronken then stepped out of the death scented housing, and with a smile on his lips took a deep breath of the 'fresh' air. [b]"Yup, still bloody awfu-[/b]" The alarms started blaring and the voice started yelling, and though he would deny it, Ronken screamed. But just a bit! 

 The addition of the alarms managed to sour Ronken's mood pretty fast. Something about being scared witless does that to ya' he guesses. He had his hand clutched over his heart and his face looked the same as when he was cut off at a bar. In anger he yelled a hearty piss off to the announcer.

 And then, for the second time today, Ronken had a great idea.

 Ronken's memory wasn't what it used to be, probably had something to do with the repeated concussions and flagrant drug abuse. So you can surely imagine his surprise when he remembered something from [i]ten[/i] years ago. He remembered it scared him then too. And more importantly he knew what it meant, and it wasn't good.

 He knew the crowds would be gathering at the walls. Whether it was to sate their curiosity, protest what was to come, or to prepare themselves to defend. And a large, unruly crowd sounded about like the perfect hiding spot right now. Least til he could scrape together more of a plan.

 Before he started walking, Ronken could still feel his heart slamming in his chest from the scare. And more importantly his high he'd been enjoying was wearing off too. Unstrapping his trusty 'happy bag' from his belt, he pulled out the first thing his fingers felt, the bundle of herbs and other substances looked like happyroot, if not a bit aged. 

 He popped it in his mouth and began his way to the nearest side of the wall. By the time he could hear the yelling and see the crowd his high was back, and with it a smile on his face.

 He gradually pushed his way as far up as he could. Settling a couple yards from the front. He spotted some people brandishing signs and weapons yelling at the guards. Occasionally he went in for that sort of thing, and he may yet still, but today he felt like first finding out what was happening. 

So he stood, listened for any information, and watched the chaos with a bit of glee.