The evening looms, ahead...

---

Within the horizon, the sun was already well on its way to setting, as brilliant hues of red and orange lit up the western sky. The celebrations were to begin at evening, and already St. Jeanne's Plaza was bustled with thousands.

There were those eager to see stunning firework displays, and then there were those awaiting the massive feast of sumptuous meals within the stalls. Some were eager to set up shop and earn bucks big time, and some were awaiting the massive sale of whatever bits and pieces they wanted within the stalls.

A long day awaits.

---

The Prime Minister was a rather seclusive man, still reluctant to attend the festivities. And though he had tried to have that hidden, one could still clearly see his displeasure from, well, the fact that his left hand was shifting repeatedly to molten claws and back. He had the irritability of a demon, but had, otherwise, the heart of a kind man.

But he had no choice; he was the star of this grand celebration, and shame was on him if he didn't hold that true.

In front of his office, hundreds of Defense and Police Unit men stand guard. They were to escort the Prime Minister soon and partake in the ceremonies afterward. The Prime Minister was taking too long, however, and in the meantime the impatient infantrymen had gone to doing their own respective businesses, while he was still preparing himself and his attire rather... sluggishly.

GILBERT HALLORAN

Every now and then, Gilbert wondered if the end was nigh — or if that Biblical end was already upon them. He could not but help himself as he looked over the scene in the plaza. Thousands crowded the heart of Mundin to experience the celebration of its founding, a popular event, of course. The sun loomed in the sky for the final stretch of daylight, filled with a bubbly, orange energy which characterized that day quite nicely. The tentative peace, which the government labored so much for, was so heart-warming.

Still, with beating hearts and beaming faces, Gilbert, who counted himself among them, was all too full of ennui at the same time. Painful dissonance in his mind — did others ever tire of the almost utopian atmosphere? 'Mundin remains secure; but threats knock on PM's door,' the headlines read on the newsstands. Wrinkling his nose with skepticism, Gilbert also eyed a neighboring tabloid which described 'the Prime Minister's secret love affairs.' Sighing and reaching into his pocket, he spared the peddler some currency, and he took one of the leading newspapers. Things aren't ever all that perfect, are they? The college student mustered up a weak smile and whispered to himself, Relax. Today is supposed to be about joy.

For now, Gilbert eased into one of his few days when he could unfocus, unwind, and think about something that was not a homework assignment for a weed-out course. He saw some fellow students, some old acquaintances, all blended in the sea of strangers. This was as good as it got, a small, relatively privileged (to the rest of the world), and peaceful existence. No grand adventure or pursuit for thrill. No oppressive, tyrannical government. Mr. Halloran looked up to the sky and remained optimistic about the future. In fact, he joined the crowd — most gladly, in fact! — in awaiting for the fanfare and fireworks. Though he knew this good time was doomed to a short life, the inevitable misfortune was conquerable.

Janice raised her goggles off from her eyes, inspecting her work. She was already a bit late to get going, truth be told(as the ringing egg timer furiously reminded her), but she wanted to make sure the last few adjustments were working right. She had a shipment of shielded vests and pulse batons for the MDU, as it was, which meant that as much as she needed to get going, she needed to make sure there weren't any defects more. The basic design wasn't hers, but she always made a couple of improvements in the process of manufacturing on the house...The Inspiration didn't come as easily for her while working off a blueprint, but small whispers came, finding small ways to improve efficiency and make a better product. The hard part was always filtering out the ones that she couldn't produce en-mass or would be too difficult for the troopers to maintain...but she felt this iteration was a good compromise between ease of maintenance and functionality. Now, all that was left was to pack everything up, throw that damned egg timer at a wall, and get going to make the delivery-according to the instructions, they should be gearing up in front of the PM's office.

The drive was fairly boring, if long. She'd debated just taking out her Jetwings to bypass all the traffic, but on a day like this the police would be enough on edge without worrying about identifying people flying around on jetpacks(also, the cargo was heavy and she hadn't quite worked out the kinks on that Hammerspace tote bag yet), so she'd have to make do with a hovertruck and get stuck in traffic for a while. Figures, holidays are always among the busier days of the year. Nevertheless, she slowly managed to inch across the byways and may have possibly taken a couple less than acceptable shortcuts through a alleyway or two, and cut off a couple of people with a probably-not-legal red-light left turn, but she made it only ten minutes later than the agreed upon delivery time and, fortunately for her, it looked like the good ol' minister was taking his sweet time as well. She found a place to park the truck and practically jumped out of the front seat before walking up to one of the troops with a smile on her face and laid back demeanor-she had enough goodwill built up with the police and defense departments from building equipment for them(sometimes at cost, no less) that she felt she could usually be casual dealing with them.

"'Evening boys and girls! I know I'm a bit late, but the new toys are ready. Don't suppose one of you can point me over to the officer on duty? I know they'll want to make sure to get the new inventory logged before I start unloading for you all to pass out the new vests."

Nothing can stop Margaret from kneeling on a corner and recite the Memorare, not even anyone thinking she should've already put her imaginary friends back in the past. And this was what the girl had just finished wrapping up. Today's special requests for intercession was, of course, for things to run smoothly as the city-- the country, begins busying itself for its annual celebrations. Not to mention, too, an intercession for the Prime Minister to just finish picking his clothes and combing his hair already. She had on herself the Memorare leaflet among countless other leaflets in her front pocket, the white devotional scapular of the Most Blessed Trinity, and a relic of St. John Paul II, a tiny strand of hair encased in glass and decorated with a wooden inscription bearing the pope's name. Whether they actually had mysterious powers, most especially in this age of warring wizards and psychics, is subject to dispute.

Going back to the parliament's courtyard, a bored platoon of troops continued to lie in wait while the good 'ol PM was still wrapping up things on his end. In fact, even the officer on duty himself was keeping himself entertained through his holophone, playing the latest installment in his fancied side-scroller franchise. Though as soon as someone-- one who appeared to be their supplier of sophisticated equipment and gizmos, came hurrying right up to Margaret's face and asked where he was, the officer on duty put his holophone aside and started making his approach as the girl started to explain things back.

"The officer is just right there, walking to you." she replied, her voice faltering faintly as she pointed a finger.

The officer, a tall and mustached, but rather lean man in his late thirties, briefly flashed a small grimace of slight annoyance before walking up to the lady.

"...and you're the one making shipments, I suppose. Where's your load?"

Elliot scanned the crowd with a rhythmic precision, his shoulders tense and his brows knotted. He shifted his weight from one foot to another and glanced towards the PM and then his fellow officers, it seemed they were all getting restless too.

"This PM better hurry the hell up..." Elliot said to no one particular, though he saw the officer on his immediate left, a funny little fellow called Rupert, crack a small grin. Elliot tugged at his jacket and checked his wallet keys and phone were still in there and when he looked back up he spotted a girl talking to the Captain and couldn't help as a fond smile tugged at his lips. Everyone from the station remembered her of course and she had a habit of making all the officers smile and grin when she was brought up in conversation.

Elliot let his shoulders relax, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, when he breathed out he opened them again and he found himself enjoyig the day. After all, today was a celebration!

Kurt angrily marched down the street, his cheek still stinging. Earlier that day, he had attempted to court a woman who was... not appreciative of the action, to say the least. As he pondered the thought of going to work, he silently shook his head. It was far too difficult to get a vacation day today, arguably one of the busiest times for the MDU. Despite the complaining his squad mates generated, the day was no where near as pleasant as he thought it would be. While not particularly warm outside, the streets were abuzz with activity, making it feel 10 degrees warmer. Not only that, but Kurt bumped into people nearly every 20 steps. Sure, it was nice when he walked into a hot girl, but most of the people walking around were old farts. Kurt sighed. If only he was at the docks right now. That would surely clear his mind.

The commotion was expected. Today was the 35th anniversary of Mundin's founding, so of course it's a big deal. Then again, Kurt could not care less. Today sucked just as much as any other day. That was what Kurt genuinely believed, until he remembered how his squad mates complained about not being able to get any of the food that was being laid out. He quickly began to turn, and head for St. Jeanne's Plaza, glad he didn't have to cook another one of his god awful meals tonight. The fireworks that were planned didn't appeal to him nearly as much. After all, life wasn't a drama, where the the protagonist and his love interest kiss under the light of giant explosions in the sky. And fireworks were a lot less interesting when there were people who could shoot them from their hands. And even less so if you have ever had someone like that shooting at you.

Pushing these thoughts aside, Kurt made quick progress towards St. Jeanne's Plaza, most likely due to the fact that he was following the flow of people. The area was filled to the bursting point, and Kurt immediately began to search for anyone he recognized from the MDU. The only thing that would be sweeter than hitting on girls who would probably reject him, was acting smug in front of the poor saps who have to work through this crap. After several attempts, he eventually gave up on searching for people he knew, and instead searched for those he did not know. After all, standing alone would make him appear to be a friendless loser who came here alone.

And only two of those descriptors were correct.

Ken was exhausted from the moment the day began. He had far too much to drink last night, and woke up at 5 am with a mindnumbing hangover that just didn't seem to want to abate. He was drinking because he was so stressed about his assignment for the next day. He was supposed to protect the prime minister? All he's good at is getting punched and then getting back up. Not for protecting one of the most important figures around. What was he gonna do if some shmuck came in chucking lightning? Nothing. As he stood in the lineup, he was a bit dissapointed with the officer on duty and some around him, why were they so nonchalant? This was serious business!

Then in came Margaret. Ken may have stared for a bit too long, but how could he not? She seemed really cool, and sounded strong from what he'd heard, and he enjoyed Sparring with people stronger than him . He also heard she was religiously devoted, which he found interesting. It helped that he found her pretty... Staring again. Ken also noticed Janice had made an appearance, and wondered why she hadn't developed something to just teleportation herself at this point, she was smart enough for that, wasn't she?

Despite the distractions, Ken still found himself unable to shake off his unease about having to protect the minister, but he continued to try and convince himself he was over thinking it. After all, who'd be stupid enough to attack the prime minister?

Matthew Anderson

---

Today was expected, it was announced, and everyone was talking about the 35th anniversary of Mundin's founding which has incited a lot of attention to those inside the city. He earlier today had been working at the lab but had been let off work early for the celebration, so that was a plus, but he never had much to do besides working and go out after his shift- which was hours from now. So, he had little else to do to burn the free time he had in his hands away. Maybe he would get some takeout for dinner and head out maybe after the fireworks which would be when the after party happened. Exhaling as he got up from his couch, he looked out of the window from his apartment as a parade of people moved to St. Jeanne's Plaza to listen to the Prime Minister's speech. Matthew himself didn't live too far from the Plaza itself but it was an expensive area to live in, thankfully his job was more than enough to cover it and continue to support for more.

Moving to his bedroom, he dug through his closet and tossed on a dark outfit with mostly neutral colors to them as he wore a military green button up that was underneath a dark leather vest with black pants and shoes. Looking at himself in the mirror for a final time before he left his apartment, locking the door with his keys before he placed them into his pocket. Walking down the stairs as he saw the two elevators already occupied as one was already moving to the bottom floor while the other already passed his floor as it went up. Walking down several flights of stairs of his multistoried apartment as he reached the lobby after a quick descent from his end. Exiting the glass doors before he immersed into the sea of people that all head to St. Jeanne's Plaza, following them as he blended into the crowd- he would get food around there anyways. Minding his own business as he got closer, it was almost impossible to not get a whiff of the thoughts of people around him as it was similar to eavesdropping.

---

However, despite all the traffic both physical and mentally, Matthew eventually made his way to the Plaza as he began to make his way through the crowds to one of the restaurants on the edge. Entering one of the businesses which he simply got to the easiest, he walked up to the cashier and ordered a dinner for four that would last him a few nights if he didn't pig out along with a plate for the current meal to eat. After paying, he sat down with the plastic box and opened it as he began to eat, keeping the rest of his order on the table next to him. He had his attention focused on the speech that would be happening soon, similar to everyone else in the restaurant as they were talking quietly as they waited.

---

Sora hummed a little tune as he ducked and weaved passed the people in the bustling city streets. Slung over his shoulder was a bag, filled to the brim with cash. The bag originally belonged to the owner of several stores and establishments that reside within Mundin. Just a few hours earlier, the business owner had decided to buy into a high-stakes game of poker. Unfortunately for him, Sora was playing in the same game. After just forty-five minutes of playing, Sora had already taken everything the entrepreneur had placed on the table. A smile slid it’s way onto Sora’s face as he remembered the businessman’s face as he lost. The mix of anger and complete bewilderment on his face, after he lost hand after hand, was priceless. Although this wasn’t the reason that Sora attended the game. The real reason he was there was simply for information. The surplus of money was just a happy addition to what he really went there for. Several of the people playing in the game, including the businessman, were not what one would call law abiding citizens. They were all involved in the city's criminal enterprises, in one form or another, and Sora was there to see what their plans were for today’s festivities. Much to his disappointment, there were no great big plays being made against the city today.

Sora quickly stopped humming as he made a sudden and sharp turn into a nearby alleyway. He knew the city’s street and alley systems like the back of his hand, and this was the most efficient route to Parliament. He wasn’t interested in today’s festivities, and he decided to go inform the soldiers of the lack of criminal activity. A couple years back, Sora approached the MDU and MPU with an offer. He offered to become a confidential informant in return for relative freedom to work within the city. This was initially met with nothing but laughter, and Sora took his leave. The next time Sora showed up at MPU headquarters, he brought information that not only resulted in several successful drug busts, but also brought a criminal drug smuggling ring to an abrupt end. The MDU/MPU had no choice but to accept his offer at that point.

A left turn and then a right. A few minutes passed as Sora snaked his way through the alleyways. Most of the alleys were empty due to the fact that almost everyone in the city was currently funneling into St. Jeanne Plaza. Sora made one more left turn and kept going straight until the alley suddenly opened up. The sight before him was none other than an empty pathway leading straight to the Parliament Courtyard. He stood there only for a moment as he pondered his approach. He then reached into the bag, pulled out the money he used to buy into the poker game, put the cash into his jacket pocket, and then made his way up the pathway. The walk didn’t take too long, and soon enough he found himself in front of a small platoon of guards and what looked like a supplier of equipment. He was glad to see that his assumption that the Prime Minister would be delaying his involvement in the festivities was correct.

A smile crept onto his face as he said, “Well, well, well. Isn’t it my favorite platoon of goodie-two-shoes. How’s guard duty treating y’all?” He took a short pause to toss the bag of money off to the side and away from him, “I seriously don’t know how you guys do it. This looks like one of the most boring jobs on the planet, and I should know, my father was a college professor”, he chuckled, “Anywho, Your faithful spider has come to report on what news has fallen into his web!” He bowed towards the soldiers as he finished his sentence.

Oh, look, it's the PM!... no, wait, that's just an MP. A jet black suit, a deep maroon tie and a polished shoe on the member was a fine choice of attire indeed, but everyone knew this was not the Prime Minister's style. He had held the position of the city's head of state for the last six long years, and it's already common knowledge that the PM preferred to wear anything pompous and elegant that appeared more to belong to pageants rather than any formal event. Foundation feasts, public speeches, security briefings and even emergency meetings-- you name it, he does it!

The already-impatient officer on duty flinched an eye upon hearing another come in as well. Though there's not really any point getting mad at the Units' favorite vigilante, especially if he came in bringing anything of use. And he had news, it appeared.

"Mon ami, you're just in the nick of time. Bring in your report."

Elsewhere, St. Jeanne's Plaza is still lively as ever, even as the dusk drew near. Much of the news broadcasts for today, displayed all-around at the holo-screens, focused their cameras on the still empty platform that the Prime Minister will hold his speech on while the anchors made their commentaries in the background. And of course, before every commercial break, there's always that unmistakable joyous tune of chimes, followed by Mundin's tourism slogan fading in on a white background and a robotic female voice reading those aloud:

Nothing's ever mundane in Mundin!

Tony was on foot patrol, at a calm thirty miles an hour. He sidestepped through the vehicle traffic easily as he looked in on windows to make sure everyone was wearing their seat-belts or didn't start the party too early. He'd spent the better part of an hour on traffic detail before he got bored and ran to the square to check in for something else to do. When he arrived there was the resident technophile delivering a truckload of upgraded equipment to play with. He saluted his superior as needed and waited for new orders while leaning over to whisper to Janice:

"Anyone ever tell you that you are like a really hot Santa? Delivering toys to the good little boys in blue?"

He stood back to his full attention and waited for the reprimand to talking to a civilian and be given his next assignment.

@Hiro Dark

So this was Mundin. Quite a lovely place so far, certainly better maintained than most places Aileen had been since awakening. Sure the borders were not quite as inviting but that isn't surprising. According to the briefing this small country had pulled off early on what many thought impossible. Managing to control and even repel empowered individuals in order to keep the peace. It was admirable that its citizens would come together for its defense. To some extent it meant that beings such as herself were not needed. Though as far as she knew her purpose there was not to fill a defensive need per se.

At the moment Aileen was mixed in with the police force stationed for the 35th anniversary. Though perhaps mixed it isn't quite the correct term. Her bright shining gold armor made her stand out from all the other uniformed officers. She looked like if you'd opened a book from ancient times and pulled out one of the mythological beings and dropped them in the middle of a bunch of "normal" people. Try as they might no one could convince Aileen to don a standard uniform. As others had found it was easier just to let her believe to be whoever and wear whatever she wanted.

Thus far they hadn't really been given much to do. Several of the officers were just standing around and goofing off. The PM was taking his sweet time. This meant very little to Aileen with her eyes darting here and there taking in everything. It would appear that some other people had come up. One was delivering some equipment, another had information of some kind, and the last had arrived at high speed and was decidedly less human. Talking with such a creature did not appeal to her so Aileen stepped off to the side and observed the crowd.

On her way she noticed a man looking rather uneasy. This seemed a little odd to Aileen, wasn't this supposed to be a celebration? Curious she redirected her path and gave Ken a solid pat on the back. Given that she was a whole foot shorter he would be met by the wings on her helmet before anything else. Though to be fair Aileen was shorter than a majority of the MD and MP. "What ails you that you should appear so uneasy? Is this not a joyous occasion for this land 35 years strong?" Her words, though dated, were given in a happy tone. Clearly she did not see need to fear. Though perhaps it was her youth that spurred such optimism. She only looked to be a teenager.

Ken was unprepared for what he assumed was some other officer to pat him on the back, he especially didn't expect one the officer to be what looked like a high school girl. He looked around, half expecting some mother to call the girl back, but no, she apparently belonged here, to his surprise. The more pressing issue was that he was letting his anxiety show to the point of it was obvious that he was distressed. I can't be showing my fear so much as an officer. I'm supposed to inspire a feeling of safety in people, not look like some scared little kid... He thought to himself, disappointed.

Ken then quickly remembered she asked him a question. "It's joyous indeed... As for why I'm uneasy, I'm just worried thay something could happen to the prime minister, and also wondering why I was assigned here. I'm sure tons of his guards have amazing abilities. I'm just able to get up after being hit really hard, I couldn't do very much if some crazy person came here..." Ken replied, trailing off worriedly. He felt ridiculous the more he spoke. Was there a point in being worried with so many people here to protect the prime minister? Here was some girl who isn't even fazed, yet he was being such a worry wart. He needed to really stop being such a wuss.

GILBERT HALLORAN

In the nick of time, St. Jeanne's plaza was ready to go. The holographic screens fixed themselves on the podium where the Prime Minister would speak. The crowd itself was full of anticipation. "Nothing's ever mundane in Mundin!" the ever-so-tacky motto of the city-state echoed through the plaza. The mood of excitement hung in the air, and everything was positioned just perfectly to indicate a transition into something grand. Gilbert shifted to look around himself. His eye spotted a handsome man at a nearby restaurant, with a peculiarly hefty order of food at hand. While the man himself was good-looking in Gilbert's opinion, the fact that the man had ordered a meal fit for a family intrigued Gilbert more. He smiled again to himself, and he swiveled back around to face the crowd.

Mr. Halloran pushed his way gently through the throng. He felt the need to get close, close enough to see the whites of the Prime Minister's eyes. The Red Sea of bodies momentarily would allow him passage with his excessive, bilingual apologies, and he would find himself stuck not far from where the Prime Minister would stand, with an excellent, unobscured view.If only he had his own prescription hololens to capture this moment. These bloody contacts of his were a pain to put in and keep track of every morning. He stood there in silence, patiently awaiting the fated moment. Something was worring his mind about that particular day, but he shrugged it off — not every slight premonition could be entertained.

@PhoenixRising
Hearing out the concern she glanced out over the crowd for a while, contemplating Ken's words. There certainly was a chance that someone could attack. Though she was not entirely sure how wise such a thing would be. With so many ready to defend such an action would be quite an undertaking. Having run through it several times she turned back with a slight smile. "If fate sees it fit to give us battle then so be it. We will repel the threat." She confidence was pretty firm. By now it was beginning to become clear that her accent hailed from Britain, though she didn't quite talk like she was. Likely she was assigned to the Mundin Police Unit and they decided to station her here for the event.

As to putting himself down, Aileen shook her head. "Surely neither of us would be here if they did not think us capable. Look now, there are some that have no extraordinary abilities to speak of. Yet they still serve. Come now, let's not dwell on such things. Tell me, what is your name?" She gave him another solid pat on the back and awaited a proper introduction. Perhaps she should be starting but for whatever reason she did not see the need just yet.

The restaurant was a quiet, rather small Italian place, and was quite hard to miss in the crowd of people. Despite the vast number of visitors, the restaurant was nearly entirely deserted, save for a few people here and there. The transaction with the woman behind the counter was disappointing, as she could barely speak a word of English. This led to Kurt's usually weak attempt at flirting to fail even more than usual. A sigh and several minutes later, a large plate stacked with so much pasta, bread, and garlic that it could give someone a heart attack just by looking at it arrived at his table. A tense minute passed by, before Kurt grabbed his fork and ran it through the heaping pile of pasta.

Or, he was about to, until the message "Nothing's ever mundane in Mundin!" echoed throughout the plaza.

Kurt was well aware of the infamous motto. Every single day, he heard the same repeated, cliched message, usually more than once. It followed nearly every address to the public, and it was always there whenever there was an event. Kurt's instinctual rolling of his eyes at this message was overridden by the realization that the celebration was about to begin. Quickly putting his food into a container, he threw money to the waitress and made his way to the square.

Kurt shoved his way through the throng of people, after realizing that it was much more effective than waiting for people to move out of the way. He drew very close tho the stage, to the point he was close enough to smell the same cologne that made the prime minister infamous. Hoping to see one of his squad mates or, hopefully, Ken Black, Kurt donned his famous shit-eating grin and waited for the speech. Beside him stood a man in glasses with a short hair cut and facial hair, wearing very nice glasses. Kurt made sure to keep his eyes peeled for anyone he knew.

A light chill passed down his spine, despite the relative mildness of the weather. Kurt gently fingered the combat knife he kept sheathed at his side at all times, before moving his hand away. There was no telling what would happen if people realized he brought a weapon here. Then again, considering the fact that some people could literally shoot knives out of their hands, maybe it wasn't so bad to have a weapon.

Margaret was a little unsettled with the sudden turnout of odd people, but this was to be expected when heavy security was in great demand. Nevertheless, the meek-faced girl remained at her seat and all quiet, yet to think of what to do, and still contemplating about everyone here. And yet, one big question remains: how long until the PM shows himself....?

Now, actually.

From the grand, mahogany doors of the ever-grand Parliament building came the Prime Minister, bursting in white. On him was his brilliantly white dyed pompadour, gracing his youthful face that kept his 46 years of age well hidden. He wore an extravagant white Victorian coat, intricately decorated with gold, and underneath it a white cravat with a golden sparrow emblem pinned. There on his shoulders lay a brilliantly silver feather boa. He doesn't really much look like a government man, to say, but more of a participant to some grand fashion pageant. And like one, no celebrity entrance is complete without a crowd of paparazzi to boot, their blinding flashes of their cameras reflecting off the PM's extravagant wear.

The officer on duty at once ordered all soldiers and policemen to stand in formation, and to ready themselves either for guard duty or for a military showoff. Margaret was among the first to scramble to her place. Meanwhile, on the other end of the street across the Parliament Building, news outlets have begun sounding out the joyous announcements of his grand entrance to the plaza, and begin preparing for his parade through the street.

Though something seems... off. Someone observant enough could see some sort of concern and distress in the minister's face, but no mind reader could even see what ails him; he had resistance, to say.

Elliot had kept himself entertained while waitig for the PM, one hand absent mindedly playing with a fidget cube while the other never strayed far from his side arm. The fidget cube was a tiny little thing, as wide as his nail and just as tall, his fingers danced over its edges as he fiddled with it. He noticed a few officers he recognised, shooting a wink or a smile towards anyone who saw him, but he stayed at his post, he was still on duty after all. Today was a casual celebration and the sheer amount of police here assured that any trouble wouldn't be much trouble, and it was that reoaxed attitude that led to Elliot zoning out, almost missing the Prince Minister's appearance. Though in such flamboyant and no doubt expensive clothing he looked more like a fashion model than a Politician. Elliots eye brows furrowed and he kissed his teeth, disapprovingly, remembering why he hadnt voted for this man. To Elliot it just felt as if the man didn't take himself seriously as a politician, his flair for the dramatic was starting to lose its charm.

Elliot snapped back to attention as the officer on duty called for everyone to stand in formation and the scene following of so many police either moving positions or standing up straight was so well rehearsed it looked like it had come from a play. Elliot rushed to his position underneath and slightly to the left of the balcony the PM was currently on. If he craned his head and squinted he just about make out the PMs form. The five men Elliot was currently with pulled automatic rifles from a duffel bag, Elliot taking the last one. They nodded to each other in silent acknowledgement and took up their positions. Elliot let out a raggedy breath to calm himself, and looked out into the crowd.

@t2wave@easy modo

"I suppose you have a point, the sheer number of us here would probably discourage anyone from attacking. However you have to admit it'd still be surprising if nobody did anything to the prime minister, we know there are plenty of radicals out there who'd love to have his head. It's only natural some whack-jobs are likely to try something." He responded. Ken understood how unlikely it was, but he was just a worrywart of a person at times. He couldn't help but assume the worst case scenario of every situation. He was slowly going back into his own world when she asked his name. "My name's Ken, what about yours?" Ken asked politely. Seems like he'd made a new acquaintance, that was always a good thing.

However before he could continue the conversation with his new found friend, it was then announced they needed to line up for the prime minister. Honestly Ken really wondered about why the prime minister was so fixated on his appearance, and he found it just the smallest bit ridiculous, not that he would ever say such a thing to anyone. The prime minister wasn't bad, just peculiar. He moved to get back into his proper order, bumping into Margaret on his way "Sorry..." he said quietly as he lined up next to her. Great, now I've made a bad first impression... Ken noticed that the prime minister didn't look all that calm. Which made Ken even more worried that something was going on. He tried to distract himself by scanning the crowd, not only for possible threats, but to also see if he'd find anyone he knew. Seeing a friendly face would put him at ease for a bit.

Aileen

@easy modo@PhoenixRising
She was about to answer when the event finally was getting underway. In short order everyone began to scramble to their positions. All the soldiers and officers were moving to their post and going on alert. The press was scurrying to start taking pictures and capture every moment, big or small. Aileen herself headed to her post, not that far from where the PM was. Why exactly she got placed there could be any number of reasons. Maybe it was a courtesy or gesture because of where she's from. Or perhaps because she was dressed rather eccentrically as well it seemed appropriate. Whatever the reason she stood at attention once she made her way into place.

Given her stance she didn't get a good look at the PM's demeanor. At the moment her attention was more focused on the crowd, officers, buildings, and the sky. In the age of superpowered humans things can come from anywhere. Unsurprisingly the air was abuzz with media drones trying to capture the best shot. Of course they had to keep a minimum distance.

It was about now that Aileen was beginning to wish she'd been better briefed about those she was working with. While they must be capable there was no way of knowing what they were capable of. As such the only real thing she could rely on was herself. Being fairly close to the PM she would be able to reach and protect him with a barrier if needed pretty quickly. So until further orders came she was to just stay put and endure the proceedings.