@Furiosa @Poi

"Hey, you don't know I don't." Joseph said, giving a small chuckle of his own. "You'd be surprised at how many crazy things I've done in my journeys. How many crimes I've stopped accidentally. Never on purpose at all. Far too shy for that."

He shrugged when Ren talked about his own life.

"Hey, I wouldn't exactly call myself decisive either. Just stressed and scared like a dumb animal. At least you made the choice to come here for uni, and your dad didn't even have to die to make you do it! As far as I'm concerned, the fact that you managed to do that without the fear I had is even more of an achievement!"

He demolished a sandwich, still kind of nervous about how he could do it do fast.

"Well, if you say so Ren..." He said with a knowing smile, as Ren tried to make his stammering denial. "I'll believe you for now. Or, well, I'll pretend to."

However, he found himself in a bit of a pickle when Ren scribbled a phone number onto a napkin and said to text him next time.

"Well, alright. I think its time to clear this apparent misunderstanding up..." He said, an amused smile on his face. "So, you may remember that I collapsed on your lawn specifically because I didn't have the moment for food, and haven't eaten in a week. How am I supposed to have enough money for a phone?"

And then he overheard a conversation that could help him out. Looking around, he saw a small, mousy girl not far from their own table. She seemed to be looking for someone in the city hall.

More importantly, she might have a phone.

"Um, e-excuse me!" He said, waving to the small girl. "I think we might know the way to the city hall!"

And then he mumbled just loud enough for Ren to here.

"We do know where the city hall is, right?"

"Hobo- ah no, sorry - wanderer by day, vigilante by night? That sounds about right." Ren rolled his eyes, but there was a tug at the corner of his mouth.

"You really do resemble an animal of sorts... A raccoon or an opossum maybe." Ren, flattered just a smidgen by Joseph's words, choose not to reply to the last bit.

Almost all the food on the tray was gone, but Joseph just kept going at it. I hope he won't throw up...

"You better. And I will believe your story and that you're actually in need of help and not just a free loather. Or, well, pretend to." Ren smirked. When passed the napkin, Joseph spoke some words that Ren was unsure was even possible to say in this modern day and age of technology.

"You don't have a phone?!" Surprised at first, Ren sighed.

"How do you get the days to go by? Don't tell me - you have a fascination of watching the grass grow and counting the grains of sand at the beach? Either way, you do know what a doorbell is, right? You haven't been out in the wild for so long that you've forgotten? Just ring the doorbell if you need to, sheesh."

Ren couldn't believe this guy. How had he survived on his own for so long, just wandering about? Ren seriously considered just handing him some cash, but he got the feeling that this guy was one of the stubborn types who wouldn't accept money just like that.

Ren turned his head when Joseph talked to the brown haired girl at the counter.

"Uhm, yeah. We know where City Hall is." Ren said suspiciously, raising an eyebrow slightly.

Starbucks

'With darkness engulfing sight and touch, the frightened farmer boy's frame would all but stumble towards a withered chair's heroic stop. Desperate hands reached for rotting wood, an attempt to escape the growing screech of a banshee's unforgiving screech. Recalling the silver knife at his side, the wayward soul lost and confused found a glimmer hope emanating from its reflecting edge. He fumbled for the bladed savior in this his hour of need. Who was to believe that an ornament so old and forgotten, a relic of dust and memories would find its use within the haunted confines of a home so haunted and devoid of light? Certainly, all things find their pl..-'

"I just got a call from work," Yuna pulled her younger brother from an ever recurring state of drifting into a far more fantastical, and by all means haunting world, than our own. "Will you be alright?" She continued, returning from a visit to the lady's room.

"Yeah," a soft voice returned, raspy and mellow a tune it clung to for days on end.

"I've been meaning to tell you," Yuna spoke up, buttoning her overcoat, a black flow of fabric reaching down slender legs that weren't strangers to physical activity. "I visited the university I mentioned," she added, heeled feet clicking against the floor as she reached for purse labeled expensive by both the leather, and the name bolted in with golden letters.

"Did you find your guy?" Winter offered, raising his eyes from the ever expanding notes on his lap. Yuna had previously mentioned a prestigious student looking to seek a future within the Everdale company, paving a path to wealth and careers. Selling his soul was what Winter would call that particular string of choices and decisions, and with little irony in his voice. Never the less, this scenario was enough to warrant Yuna's presence at the university. One has to maintain the front, as they say. Meeting with a aspiring new employee in who would be seen every single day in those office halls showed determination from the company's end.

"I did!" Yuna nodded, "though that's not what I wanted to talk about," the older sibling continued. "I snuck into their library while there, more like, that's where we talked. I think you'd like it."

"There are untold secrets unreachable within the pesky confines of a public library?" The young author smirked, leaning back in his seat as dramatic words came to leave his lips.

"Someone once told me," Yuna retorted, "that no two places are the same." 

Having his own words used against him? Truly, a masterstroke. "I say a lotta' stuff..," Winter mumbled quietly, lowering his gaze in defeat. "I mean, it would be awkward to walk around a bunch of students, when I don't even belong, there." One could not consider his schooling one of popularity. Needless to say, Winter did not find himself in a position he'd enjoy revisiting. 

"Or," Yuna leaned in, teasingly, "is it that you're afraid of seeing that one prince charming roaming the university with eyes glimmering so bright?" 

At her words, the ever lasting curse of pale skin reached a now red surface, Winter's dark orbs of obsidian meeting his sister's raven gaze. With but a moment's silence between them, Winter proceeded to shake his head vigorously before hiding his attention in the safety of his notebook. Prince charming? The mere thought brought the young author's, no, the romantic's heart to a beat of accelerated pace. Clenching his teeth, Winter tensed somewhat, his grip of that pen tightening as a gulp traveled down his throat. Prince charming, two words known to both keyboard and pen which had both breathed life into the aspect now dancing across his thoughts. "R-right..," Winter tried, seeing as how his most beloved sister chuckled in response, a slender hand coming to playfully ruffle her baby brother's hair. 

"You're adorable, Winter." She stated before planting a loving kiss to his forehead, "don't ever change." She finished, offering the young man a gentle hug, one of a sister's love before all that remained was a farewell. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps the stories coming to life upon the lined pages of a hopeless romantic's notebook were a fearsome sight, would they ever ascend and flow into the fabrics of reality so desperately avoided.

"Fine..," a quiet voice came to linger in the now empty air, "I'll check it out..." 

The drive to SCCA was a speedy one, the roads were empty and the knowledge of the placement of speed cameras allowed Max to gun it. His feet alternated between the break and gas pedal as he swept the dust off the street with sheer speed, switching gears with elegant timing. Though of course this was all a casual drive for Max, with the company still looking over his proposal for the structure of their next office tower, he had a day off to do what he wanted. Check up on his babies.

Max pulled up to the rear of the airport complex, where the service and staff entrances were, and stopped his car at a security checkpoint. Despite the smaller, non-passenger nature of the airport, the security still had to meet the standards of the Federal Board of Aviation. He handed his ID over, his pilot's licence, and other papers regarding his ownership of the planes stored in hangers Q, R and S. Satisfied, the guard waved Max through, raising the boom gate and sliding open the rattly, chainlink fence. Max waved back and headed through, officially on the airport complex, a place (to his satisfaction) that was the realm of aviation professionals. As he thought that he saw some mechanics tossing a spanner around.

"So much for that," he mumbled to himself, taking the service road behind the hangers. In the gaps between the mammoth structures, the sleek, black Mercedes glinted. Those who recognised it waved, those who didn't haven't been working at the airport long enough. He parked the car behind hanger Q and stepped out into the shadow of the structure. Max took the back door into the hangar space and was greeted by dusty planes shrouded in pale moonlight. He wandered into an office and tossed his jacket on to the desk, picking up a set of keys and heading towards the plane closest to him.

She was the one in the best condition, one of the two that were still in flying condition, she painted black in the style of S&S's livery. On the side was stencilled the logo and name of the company. Max snorted and headed up into the plane, sitting in the cockpit. It was there he noticed a pair hanging around the entrance of his hanger. Turning on the electrics, he gave a flash of his landing lights and a friendly wave.

Milo smiled under his well groomed beard, he was glad that he had made a friend quickly, perhaps things can truly be better, he listened as she mentioned another event, and dancing, he was a clumsy as an ox on ice but there was no chance that he would turn down the offer. The part of the offer that baffled him however was her saying she wasn't much of a dancer, he found that hard to believe, even if she could only dance a moment, Milo had no doubt she was graceful.

"I'm sure your skill on a dance floor is unmatched, if only by your pleasant company." He said while chuckling a little.

Milo turned his thoughts to home for a minute, an urging notion in his mind, memories of everyone he left behind, including his girlfriend from then. Was what he was doing even ok? He had been a monster then, and he even traveled far, far away without saying a word, surely she hated him enough to never look for him, never to come for him. and in that moment he had a sense of fear and dread, the impending pain of a past come back to haunt him. Surely he was allowed to have this though right? He was allowed to be as happy as anyone, and heavens know that where he was, who he was, made no one happy.
Milo snapped back to himself as Vika mentioned calling her, she was sweet, truly, Milo wished that he had been here his whole life, so that he wouldn't have to feel so pained. Milo finished off his drink now and decided that he had had enough, bikeing home buzzed at night was already going to be hard.

"Will do, it has been pretty quiet in the shop, constant ringing like will either enlighten you or drive you mad, I think it did both to me."

"Um, e-excuse me!"

Olivia looked around, noticing a man waving in her general direction.

"I think we might know the way to the city hall!" The man had replied, to which his partner had agreed, although with more clarification than just possibility. The two men were an odd pair of friends, and while they were around the same height, Olivia had noticed their drastically different appearances. One had wispy white hair and a number of tattoos, while the other had appeared thuggish with a black stubble and mat of hair, along with an almost intimidating expression. If she would been on the street, Olivia might have believed such individuals would attempt to rob her, but she didn't wish to judge them from their first meeting.

After all, they had made it known that they knew where the City Hall was, with the black-haired man showcasing quite a show of friendliness with his wave. "You do?" Olivia had asked, inquisitively, as she turned her attention to the two men that approached. The waitress who Olivia had been talking too deemed the matter handled and walked off to serve other customers. "And here I was--worried that I'd be lost forever in this city... You see, I had hoped to find the city hall with the help of my phone's GPS, but it doesn't seem to want to work for me today." Olivia responded, a hint of girlish laughter coming forth as she flourished her phone for them to see.

"I'm supposed to meet my grandmother at the city hall after she finishes filling out paperwork, but being brand new to this city, I have no idea where the city hall is. So much for a fresh start, right?" Olivia continued with a gentle smile, explaining her reasons for seeking help. It was then Olivia realized that one of these strangers (or perhaps both) could help her find her way to the city hall, at least in some way. "I don't mean to take time away from either of you, but could I request assistance in reaching the city hall? I'd be extremely grateful for your help."

A moment passed by before Olivia realized she had forgot something, and proceeded to imagine herself face palming. How could she ask these strangers for help without having introduced herself? "Apologies, I had forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Olivia, and you two are...?"

---

Earlier in the morning, Aya had arrived at The Coffee Pot, once again finding herself working the stupidly early morning shift. Thankfully the morning had been a relatively peaceful one, save for the encounters she had with the few mentally drained university students that frequented the café at this time. Mari, that unfairly lucky girl, had the day off, so it would just be Aya and the other baristas she barely talked to in her company today.

The café would grow busier and busier with each passing hour, more and more customers pouring in each minute. By now Aya was used to this type of thing, even if she wasn't in the best of moods on some days. But although she wasn't feeling too glum today, the gossip she overheard as she delivered coffee to other tables was quite disturbing. The flashbacks from Monday evening when she was driven home soaked to the skin and looking like a pissed off panda sent shivers up her spine, and the fact that the conflict had apparently started with those three asshats trying to poison a poor woman made her Aya grimace even more.

As she contemplated the different ways she could possibly defend herself from something like that happening to her, Aya felt a light tap on her shoulder. Her initial paranoia made her spin around so quickly that she almost lost her footing, only to meet the large worried eyes of the recently employed barista. She pointed to one of the coffee dispensers.

"Er... I don't think it's working properly."

Aya looked around. The rest of the workers behind the counter were either serving customers or making coffee. Although she had been working here for about a year or so, rarely had she come across a faulty machine, let alone been able to fix one. There was no one else Aya could seek help from, so she just followed the younger girl.

It was making a lot of loud and faulty sounds. Aya approached it with caution, because how was she supposed to know if the machine would explode in her face right then and there? She pressed a few buttons and even jostled the hunk of metal around a bit, trying to lift it up for leaks and randomly tapping things. She asked the girl several questions about whether she had abused the machine in any sort of way, to which the girl only shook her head. With the machine still not producing any coffee, there was little Aya could do to save it.

So, Aya slapped the thing on its side with full force, earning a lot of strange stares and a now mostly silent café.

She looked around. The new barista stared at her as if she had just murdered somebody, as well as the other baristas who gave her very confused looks. The violent sounds of the coffee dispenser would stop, and coffee began to flow seamlessly out of it. Aya placed the cup in the young barista's hand hoping she wouldn't run away screaming.

Taking a moment to breathe and tidy up her hair, Aya went up to the counter to serve a waiting customer.

“...anyway. What can I get for you today?”

Sol City Cargo Airport . Wednesday Evening

---

Marinalia walked over to the doors hearing something outside, much as not ground crew it still was here job and waved Joel to follow her when he was done. With a small click of low office heals she poked head round seeing someone flash there plane lights, and then recognised him a few seconds later. The Aircraft was a older one than she flew for sure. It was dark but in daytime was that a DC3?

Wearing a bright yellow safety coat with Deadalus logo on back and a large "flight crew" below to identify her role on the runway. It did clash somewhat with a office skit, low heals but she had never planned this evening to go as it did.

Behind her, the radio played the call out for the arrest of someone, a 27 year old woman. Swan Songs... It was her. Squirming somewhat, she did extra duty to escape, distract not be reminded. With a badly hidden nervous tinge.

just... Be updating a Pilot.. On duty and all...

Breathing a second before looking up, business... Business. Shooting up to the cockpit. Even on the smaller aircraft it was high up.

Good evening, if your planning on heading up the main runway is closed for a foreign object check. Be about 10-15 before they clear oporations veto.

Relishing, yeah it was max from the bar and I'll fated night.

Max, good evening. Never got a chance to say, you where thr highlight of Sunday night. Things turned a tad... Shadowy later.

These your old girls? Mines a DC7, little younger than your veterans.



Patting the DC3, thesw where old but solid aircraft, real work horses on the dirt strips and landings the heavier planes could not. Decades old and some still ran day in day out.

---

Light lane, Shawarma Palace . Wednesday Evening

Victoria could somehow tell. There was somthing churning in his mind for sure, a look of deep thought, either good or bad she had definitely managed to trip somthing important. A little voice crept in that treading carefully might be best. Losing a freind by pushing too far. She only knew her sister properly here, and Marlin working.. Selfishly she got lonely.

Smiling, yeah she could be graceful long as you did not mind holding most of the weight and nearly falling over a few times when her leg disagreed. With a small sigh, the second part came out by itself before her brain caught up.

with a a little help... You alright? Seemsed lost a second...

How do you not know I'm mad already? Though Don, t quote romeo and Juliet. Bad role models.

Adding last bit with a joke.

Soon the date might be less successful noticing a stranger and a woman walk in. The dynamic was different between them. There was no real warmth between them. There was a tension about those two.

Wait. That had to him surely. If she was right that was not going to be a good omen for a successful date of Sunday anything to go by. Reaching out a small hand to make it clear. Maybe he not be such a problem if he held no real intrest.

With a quiet whisper, she tried to be discreet as possible reaching over for a kiss on cheek.

its one of them. Sunday night. Gotta be one of those sobs... If he has a russain accent...

---

@RoccanIronclad@Voltus_Ventus@aladdin_sane@Pilatus

---

University Library

There is a certain emotional spectrum better left without a second visit. Though it's a commodity for school hallways to maintain an unforgiving chill, returning to their cold and sterile view was never an act Winter had expected for himself. Again, this was more than likely part of Yuna's expectations. An older sibling, indeed. She constantly attempted to aid Winter in dealing with his demons. Exposure therapy, as it was called. Roaming through those university corridors, it was safe to say that the young author felt small in both stature and soul, his presence quickly overshadowed by those of an intellectual pursuit. 

With fingers anxiously holding onto the strap of his shoulder bag, Winter took one unsure step after the other, his eyes maintaining a gaze on the floor as he proceeded through campus. A single shift of view would prove that those passing him by paid him little mind, and no heed. They did however tend to tower over him, just like in the olden days. Yet another reason creeping through his mind would proceed to reach the surface. Another reason as to why Winter retired to the safety of his fictional universe, where he was the master of what came to occur. Those converse clad feet promptly halted their stride upon reaching a closed door, Winter's raven eyes rising to meet the library sign staring back at him. How many hours had be spent at the library, back at his high school? It was difficult, to tell. Every break, every hour given when he was allowed to study on his own, was spent within the safe embrace of books and silence. 

Of course, one is to note that Winter was never an exceptional student. Indeed, he is what one would consider average, with no delusions of grandeur. His presence at a school like this would never surpass the role of visitor, one whom treads past the threshold of their holy ground only to gaze upon the wonders beyond. As he wasn't a student, Winter would not be allowed to bring any of the books with him home, though remaining in place was not a horrible thought. It was, after all, a library. One could take into consideration a question Miles, his brother, once asked. Why not just buy all the books he wanted? Gods knew he could afford it and then some, and while it was difficult to express, Winter enjoyed contributing to a library's presence, in his life. Buying the book he wanted removed the feelings surrounding it, the atmosphere coming with spending long hours in a library's warm lap of hearth and home. 

Placing a slender hand on the door, Winter gently pushed it open to be met by an impressive sight, indeed. Unable to hide the ever growing smile on his lips, the young man's stride appeared somewhat more secure as he delved deeper into this nexus of knowledge. Themes stretching from Fantasy to Realism, with History, Poetry and Politics rowing massive shelves were all evident throughout the library's stretch. It was, in a word, quite beautiful. Winter slid his hand into the shoulder bag loosely hanging at his side and acquired the headphones he had grown closely attached to throughout the months they had spent atop his head. Now, he felt complete. Surrounded by not only the written stories of geniuses from an age of glorious literature, but also the atmospheric music pouring into his ears calmed a soul previously feeling a crashing wave of turmoil against the shores of his consciousness. 

"Call of Cthulu..?" Winter's silent voice managed to leave his pale lips in a mere whisper, as his widened eyes fixed their gaze upon Lovecraft's masterpiece blatantly staring back at him from the shelf. Tracing the pads of those thin fingers across the spine of the book, Winter carefully pulled the text from place before opening it to view the sentence within, offering an all too familiar sound of paper giving way as he did. "They have an entire section of sci-fi horror..!" The author continued, his silent voice excited as he trailed those beady eyes across the shelves with a child's admiration washing over him. 

@Furiosa@Poi@Jay Kalton

"Yeah, I guess I can take raccoon." Joseph said with a surprised expression. "Honesty, I would've just gone with rat, but I'll take it."

He flinched at Ren's outburst, letting out a startled whisper of his own before screwing his eyes shut and calming himself down.

"No, I don't have a phone. I did have one once, long ago, but I had to sell it the first time I ran out of food. And while gardening is a bit of a hobby of mine, watching grass grow tends to take a bit of a hit in favour of walking from city to city, you know? And finally, doorbells. I'm assuming their still the pushydingdongsounders I remember, but there was also a time when you had to flip open a phone, so the tech may very well have changed."

And then he turned his attention to the girl he'd just offered to help.

"Ye-yes. Sure!"

Damn it, he'd really been hoping he could ride his wave of desperation-fuelled confidence to speak to this girl properly, but he wasn't starving to death anymore, so it looked like he was back to his usual, panicky self.

"Yeah, we'll h-help you out. I mean, I also don't actually know the way myself, but Ren does, right Ren!"

He let out a clearly too loud laugh, before promptly wishing he could kill himself through use of his brain alone. This girl seemed really nice, and was honestly quite pretty too. Naturally, this was destroying his already low confidence even more than normal.

"Um, anyway, I'm Joseph." He said, mustering his willpower to keep his stutter under control. "I'm a wanderer, and I walk around between cities barely surviving. This is Ren, he's a medical student who actually knows his way around and has less trouble staying alive. Together we make up a duo of crime-solving super-sleuthes, protecting the good people of the city from evil. That's not true. I don't know why I said that. We barely knew each other until I collapsed from starvation on his lawn about an hour ago. Please forgive me, my people skills aren't great unless I'm dying, apparently!"

And them he tried to act casual, smiling like an idiot and pretending he hadn't just had some kind of mini breakdown. This went well for a couple of seconds, before a loud sound caused him to nearly jump out of his skin.

"Jesus!" He half-shouted half-whispered, looking to the source and recognising the tall japanese woman from Swansong, who had just smacked the coffee thingo an apparently making it work that way.

He repeating his calming process from before, before smiling and trying to act normal.

"Bu-but yeah... Social s-skills could use a l-little work most of the time."

The Justice Department registered Gulfstream 550 touched down gracefully on the numbers at Solaris County Regional. The moonlight obscured by only a few silver clouds glinted off its regal white, blue and gold exterior. The thrust reversers stowed and the plane taxied over to a small assembly waiting outside of one of the large vacant hangars. Two Customs Service P-3 Orion aircraft sat abreast, parked nose to tail of each other, one with a large radar dome on its back, both sporting Customs’ signature blue band over the fuselage. A very unpretentious motorcade of marked City vehicles was visible and three more cars approached from the gate.

Paige watched from an oval window just in front of the wing. Though the plane was far and away the most lavish machine she had ever been aboard, it had been a long flight from Delta City International. They’d stopped twice to pick up three more Marshals that were to be part of the operation. She assumed one of them would be her future partner, but no one really talked business, just chit-chat about sports, family life and riding high on the tax-payer dime. Her father would have a coronary if he knew how much money the imperial US Government had spent to taxi them around all day. She smirked a little at the thought. She’d wanted very badly to stretch out on the couch in the aft cabin, but such an action would have hardly been professional considering her company. She sighed a little knowing she likely wouldn’t get another chance at it.

The mayor’s motorcade hardly looked fitting for such a city of great renown. All white with what appeared to be aged decals of the city’s seal on each door. As she came down the stairs she noticed that each one looked to have only recently been hastily washed. She’d heard the mayor to be of exceptional modesty, a man of the people as it were. Sol City rejected the assistance of the Justice Department many times before. However, it seemed recent events had caused even this mayor to succumb to the dark temptation of Uncle Sam.

A trio of passengers got out of the lead car in the line. Paige recognized two of them from the briefings on the flight over, a representative from Customs and another agent from ATF. They’d both landed a few days before making the Marshal Service the last on the scene and sealing their responsibility for the buying of drinks later in the evening. The third man was her direct Supervisor, Art Stirling, a man who she’d only spoken with over video conference once she’d received her reassignment to his area of the District which primarily consisted of Sol-City itself. He seemed cordial enough and had been a Supervisor for many years, which to Paige, meant he must’ve been a good-type. If he were useless, like most, they would have promoted him long ago.

Handshakes and greetings went around. Mayor Makara seemed to be a combination of emotions, but in Paige’s view, humility and embarrassment seemed to be the most prevalent. His handshake was weak and he barely looked her in the eye when they were introduced. His small delegation, which didn’t seem to include anyone from the Police Department, was no different. Small people in big positions. She thought. He tried to be Sol City’s “friend” rather than its leader and the city’s more unscrupulous residents had thanked him by running roughshod over their citizen-mayor. She’d read the report about the helicopter breaking all kinds of FAA regs a few days ago. The Transportation Department was still in an uproar over that debacle.

“P-3’s start flying 0600 tomorrow,” The Customs rep said after all the introductions were concluded. The level of awkwardness was evident between the mayor and his entourage. They’d summoned a monster that they could not control and at this point had no way of calling back. “We’ll have the ocean-ways and the port covered, ATF has been on the ground for a while so Marshals just need to get in touch with the field agents before we really start tightening the noose.”

What was also evident was everyone’s desire to get the formalities out of the way and hit the closest bar for a little soiree before bed. Paige was thinking of ways she could get out of it, but nothing acceptable was coming to mind. Art broke in, “Alright, my guys… and gals,” He said giving Paige a nod. “We’ve got our territory staked out at City Hall in Central Point. Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Paige relaxed in a gentle sigh of relief and glanced up the runway in the distance. There were a couple of Navy planes, a big freighter and smaller propeller driven aircraft taxiing. The nigh breeze drifted dryly cutting a slight chill through her jacket. She was ready to scope out whatever crashpad the Service had cooked up for her and get some rest.

@PrinceAlexus@Voltus_Ventus

Sol City Cargo Airport . Wednesday Evening

---

Marinalia Looked over hearing a distinct sound and landing of something larger, it definitely was not on the Daedalus list of landings and just shy of the large Piston engined cargo planes that regularly touched down equal to a smaller airliner. Someone sure had money to burn. Blinking navigation lights glittered further away as it was met by a smaller convoy of white cars and trucks. Something definitely was up, sure the outer airport was used by others than Daedalus but even in short time working for them could tell this was not the norm.

Getting on the phone, dialed the office tower, they should know but better safe than sorry. The ground crews might not of been informed of the new comers.

hey, Ops, its Marinalia R Olympus, We have a non company jet on main runway. Also 3-4+ foreign hazed vehicles and likely passengers... Copy that, yeah office is dead, out by S&S, escorting a approved civilian ... Got it, enjoy the evening Ops, i owe you a coffee one day.

No real info, just a booked slot, that was pretty normal and mostly related to the federal rented hanger and office down the way she had hered in the gossip and general chit chat. They never bothered anyone and seemed content to keep self to selves. Could be one of the private flights in too, but they seemed to land nearer the federal than the private hangers.

Looking back she pulled out a small pair of binoculars someone had left in the coat, handy at times on such a large area of flat ground, Looking out she saw a few people milling about, cars, Probably just wanted to get out the cold night and to their beds. Putting them away turning back to the others.

Sorry, They were not on my schedule. Had to check with Flight Ops, Easy to get killed out here.

Sorry... Civilian is non Flight or ground crew staff. no insult meant.

That it was, Aircraft could not slow down, stop or turn and a fully fueled plane was a multi ton bomb, largest weighed over 100 tons or higher and a small bolt, broken off metal fragment could tear apart a engine in a fraction of a second. The last bit aimed at Joel, it certainly was a foreign land to many, and it only took one mistake out on the tarmac.

---

@Pilatus@Voltus_Ventus

---

Morgan Jane Rowan

---

---

Morgan had just woken up and was trying to convince herself to get out of her warm bed. Her dog mocha was laying at her feet staring up at her with glistening eyes. The dog's tail was slightly wagging at the premise of food and a walk. Morgan sighed and got up. She pulled on a jacket that was hanging on the back of a chair, precariously, and pulled a pair of jeans on, She put on a pair of dark chrome headphones, turning on her music to ignore the world, before she got mocha's leash, snapping it on her, and She walked outside.
She got to the coffee pot and walked in with mocha. Acting like she was doing nothing wrong, she got in line. Once she ordered and got her food and drink she took a seat near one of the windows and started going through her phone, sipping at her coffee every so often, Handing mocha one of the doughnuts and commenced eating the other. Mocha sat back on her haunches and started chewing her doughnut.

University Library

The ever present ticking of a clock added an atmospheric touch to the library's silence, otherwise drowned out by Winter's music. Though the vacancy offered comfort in its own way, the young author's attention would not linger upon his surroundings. Rather, his eyes soon found home upon the pages of his notebook, with thoughts constantly traveling back to the masterpiece just inches from his pen. Call of Cthulu, a story with enough mysticism to drown out even the world's of high fantasy. Hoplessness embroidered with fear, and alien atrocitets, one could never know what resided, or rather hid, behind each and every corner. Elusive and unknown, the vast monstrosities known as gods with names of an ancient tongue brings forth not only the darkness of an ocean's deepest depth, but also space itself. One of these creatures is said to have dreamed up the entierty of reality, and if it was to ever wake, we would cease to exist at the dawning of this beast's consciousness.

Of course, Winter could note that creatures of powers scaling this magnitude brought with them a genre in itself. Without proper ingredients, a writer would be left with naught but a mess. Power always had to be balanced by a plot, or a story. Quite fundamental rules of writing, for sure. Winter proceeded to gently tap his pen against the table, an absentminded habit while those raven eyes read through the pages knitting together a story known for the ages. 

Occasionally, the young author turned his attention towards the calm but moving world revolving around him. What was it like, frequenting a school as prestigious as this? Doctors, lawyers, architects and many more came through these halls before continuing to shape their future into that of which could very well save lives. In a way, it lowered Winter's gaze to the fictional landscape of Cthulu's mythos with a solemn expression donning his face. What would he achieve, in his lifetime? He ran away from his responsibilities, he ran away from his birthplace. Now a hidden recluse, shut off from the world, it was difficult to see himself moving past the myriad of restrictions put out in front of him, by none than Winter himself. 

They say that the most difficult realization is facing oneself, a foe bearing your face who gazes into your soul with eyes reflecting your own. Winter had not shied away from meeting the flaws donning him like a cloak, but claiming improvement since an age old past would be a step too far. Indeed, he had stopped cutting, even though the temptation was constant, and lingering. Even though the desire remained, even now. Though, one would not have to look beyond this addiction to understand the aspiring author's escape in worlds piercing the fabrics of reality. With a soft sigh escaping his lips, Winter leaned back in his chair, scanning the area for the briefest of moments, before turning up the music on his iPod. Music always knew how to drown out unwanted thoughts. 

Ren chuckled at Joseph's reply to the doorbell comment.

"Glad to hear you're not completely disconnected from the modern world."

Ren looked at Joseph in disbelief as he engaged in a conversation with a stranger. His face was a mix of emotions and he seemed to be struggling to get his words out.

"Way to reveal our secret identities, moron. What if she's an evil villain?" Ren decided to torture Joseph some more by dragging out the awkward conversation - he was after all somewhat responsible for bringing up the superhero subject and now it was time to take responsibility. Heh. Joseph's sudden outburts made Ren follow his stare to behind the counter were an asian woman was pretty violently nudging the coffee machine.

"That seemed like rather unprofessional behaviour. Oh well, as long as the customers get's their coffee they're happy… But yes. I have been to the City Hall myself. You just need to cross Heart Bridge to get there. There's a bus that stops just down the road you can take to get there." He spoke in a bored voice and stared out the window on purpose just to not seem too friendly. Ren wasn't particularly interested in engaging with another stranger today - raccoon boy was more than enough, and Ren wasn't sure even that was worth the trouble. People are so tiresome. Ugh. He wasn't the best at socializing himself but he was unable to blame it on anything other than his own stupid fears of being rejected. Better to push people away yourself than to be rejected after making an effort.

"Is that all? I have another errand I need to attend to, so I'll be going then. I feel like I've done my service as a good citizen by helping this hobo get back on his feet. Good karma better come my way now. Maybe you can take him from here." Ren avoided to use the term wanderer on purpose to taunt Joseph one last time before he left. The last part was meant for the young woman that had approached them. Olivia it seemed. Ren did not like to be the fifth wheel on the wagon and decided this was his cue to leave.

----


He was dropped of at the university by William, his chauffeur. There was a book Ren needed for another paper that he'd forgotten to rent last week and he'd figured he might as well use that as an excuse to leave the café. With long steps he strode into the library, heading for the biology section. He found his book with ease as he was rather familiar with that shelf. Ren stopped for a moment, pondering. The cold loneliness of his apartment did not tempt to return to at all. Instead he sank down on one of the large tables used for studying at. With a sigh he opened the book and turned the paged to the right chapter. The paper's subject was otorhinolaryngology - everything related to the ears, nose and throat. A subject Ren found rather repulsive. Rolling his shoulders, Ren straightened his back and looked around the room. There was an even flow of students coming and going. Several groups were seated on the many different tables, heads bowed over heavy text books or computers. His eyes landed on a rather meek looking boy on the opposite side of the table from himself. He was hunched over a notebook, pen eagerly scribbling on the pages. Is that kid old enough to be here? Is he lost? Ren was unsure if he should ask if he needed any help finding somebody, but decided against it. Nope. Enough strangers today. Not my problem. Ren told himself. The kid did have a brick of a book laying next to him though. Suddenly Ren just couldn't help himself…

"Hey kiddo, if you'd like, I can help you find the children's section to get a more suitable book for you?" A rather fake, too bright smile was plastered on Ren's face as he spoke in a patronizing voice.

University Library

It is only when the veil of safety is pierced that its ultimate frailty is revealed. Raising his gaze towards an all too unexpected addition, Winter viewed a young man whose visage would speak of such a season with screaming tunes. Proper, perhaps to fault, Winter was able to dot an air of privilege embracing the unwelcome addition.

Indeed, the gathering of text placed in front of him spoke volumes. The secrets of biology unfolding, humanity's core coming to full view. It painted a clear picture, where this young man would come to unravel the mysteries and complications plaguing mankind, in the pursuit of saving lives. It brought a thought to Winter's ever flowing mind. What kind of mark would he leave upon the surface of this world? A written escape available for others in which to indulge. Though a flustered frown made its way to Winter's visage, his raven eyes returned to the scene unfolding across the table. As a child, Winter's ability to thwart a bully's advance was limited by body, and heart. 

At twenty years, not much changed. Fear was however not a grip which clenched at his throat, but rather uncertainty. The pale young man traced a slender finger across his writing, thoughts bringing him far from the scene at hand. "Do you usually invite children to private readings?" Indeed, Winter was no presence considered explosive, or impressive. However, he did have the hidden courage Yuna often brought to the surface with the musing voice of a seer, someone who saw beyond the frailty others would consider his whole. Breaking from his family was not a fear spelling weakness. 

Even so, the author's voice wasn't that of a mocking strike, nor was it sharpened. Rather, it found home in curiosity. Winter's mellow tune was easy to discern. He could not possibly be one who raised his voice to get a point across, neither speaking with rage, nor anger. Indeed, Winter eventually lowered his attention to the scripture by his hands. "I am not a kid," he explained, far too aware of the overused string on insults now old as the growing grass. However, it would be foolish to deny the searing pain emanating from those forearms hidden beneath a layer of fabric. Boiling to the surface, each cut bled with an anguished remembrance, a torment with roots in misery, and plight. Boiling to the surface in the face of confrontation, Winter had yet to best this particular foe, that of trauma and memory's unbreakable shackles. 

As if bleeding anew, the young man tensed, his teeth clenching as Winter was reminded yet again of the power held by a fractured mind. A shattered past cut deep, and the scars would bleed until the body dried. "There are probably more interesting people, for someone like you," he finished, his gaze now panted on the safety of another realm. One of cosmic horror's and underwater ancients. Perhaps one day, someone would point towards Winter, and call him out on his occupation. Perhaps, he would be recognized, rather than merely offering a sight mocked by those who viewed it. 

However, one gaze at his company's choice of book quickly strangled any thoughts of grandeur. This student was not a presence considered pleasant, but it was not a feat considered impressive to note a bright future in store for him, one Winter could not look towards. Cold loneliness sharpened like a blade awaited him with the dark confines of his apartment, and the author knew that no other locale awaited his presence. At least he had Hades. Fitting, wasn't it? Named after the god of death, he appeared to be the only constant, at Winter's side. 

Cutting short the young man's thoughts, Winter's cell phone, an apple product coated in a cat themed frame lit up and vibrated to reveal Hades' antics frozen in a wallpaper. "Hey bro'!" A text popped up with a familiar noise accompanying it, "got you tickets to that all male burlesque show! Merry Christmas!" The message finished, painting Winter's face a bright red. Miles wasn't known for being subtle. 

"Oh my God," Winter sighed, rubbing his forehead. 

---

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@valckyriie@Avali@Shard@Poi@Rabidporcupine@SouffleGirl123@RoccanIronclad@Monacho@Jay Kalton@PrinceAlexus@TwelveOf8@King Tai@RawrEspada4@alexfangtalon@Furiosa@aladdin_sane@Voltus_Ventus@Desparadina@Robo27

It only took a few hours but centre Point was blocked by heavy concrete barriers, sand filled trucks painted in bright colours like presents and the stalls, supplies and stands of the holiday party where assembled.

It was a tradition the Mayor had started, a winter party, the drink was free, the food was free and City Hall thrown open with a large dance floor and yet more food, drink and prosecco on tap.

Manton times they had tried to complain about the coat but the event had become a firm favorite over the holiday season and the annual costume party was always a fun one to attend.

City Hall decked out in bright colours, trees and a large dance floor set up sourounding by many dozens of tables, snugs and sofa sets. Local bands and others booked, the venue was no stranger to big events but this was one of the years highlights. The walk across the lawn was lit by lights. Holiday scenes and little grottos, spot lights shined on the City Hall and made it stand out among all other buildings.

Centre Point was closed to all traffic, stalls, small stages, venders with food, drink, knick macks and presents clustered all over. Everything was ready as a winter sun set over the city skyline and the lights twinkled lighting up the bright centre Point to a while new level of excess and shining beacon drawing all to the party.

Workers put the mayor's finishing touch up this year, mistletoe and lots of it. Some thought it was abit silly but the world could always use some fun.

The stage was set for the party. The food was ready, the drink was by the crate and from above one would see a great glow in the city centre, a shining beacon of Sol Cities success.

Milo had spent the past couple of days working on a couple of projects, one of which he turned over and over in his hands, unfinished, still rough shaped he knew that there was something special to behold in it when he was done. the blade was set aside for the time being and he resumed his work on paying pieces, a set of civil war style cutlery sets and a some decorative door knockers, they were easy and they made a quick buck, but his mind bounced back to the blade he was making, he had thought at first he could finish it by this weekend and give it away but it seemed that he overestimated himself, it was going to need a few more days for sure. It hit him as he was working, he needed to double check. Milo pulled out his cellphone, and pulled up a text conversation he had been having with Vika, he typed away, smudging the screen terribly, "Still on for tonight?" and set the phone aside. The city was having a street party and they had been talking about going, some new fish place opened up and was doing something for it, he hadn't had any good seafood since arriving which is sad since his shop is right on the water, it had just been to chilly to sit out and fish.

@PrinceAlexus

Somewhere in the myriad of paperwork associated with her transfer to Sol City, Paige had seen a random city flyer advertising, Drive Nights! A golfing venue at something called the Luna Sports Facility. While she sat in various orientation meetings and briefings over the previous two days she would occasionally glance down at her phone where she kept the page saved and made a reservation for a bay. The rates had been reduced slightly for the apparent weekend celebrations, but were still more than a little on the pricey side nonetheless. Her plot, high on the third level, looked out over something like a combination of a driving range and a gameshow. Beyond the high netting that bordered the facility was a picturesque view of downtown Sol City bathed in neon light and the fading orange-red haze of evening. Music played in the background and conversations from the other bays could only just be heard. It seemed a more polished venue than she expected, which was a plus. A ball came up from an automated tee under the floor and she sent it flying with a crisp thwack!

“Holy shit,” A voice commented from the lounge behind the driving platform. “You sure you never played this before?” He teased. The ball struck the target firmly in the distance causing it to shimmer in a circular cascade of LED lights. Xi Ko Wen was transferred up from the sunny Southwest. A former Marine Corps sniper and the child of second generation Taiwanese immigrants, he was Paige’s new partner. Most people just called him, Ko for short. He glanced up at the score screen overhead as he put down a leather-wrapped tablet and reached for his driver.

“Nope,” Paige replied. She turned with a smirk. “First time,” She sat down as he took the platform and got his target assignment from the computer. The lounge seating was luxurious for an “outdoor” venue with leather couches and hardwood grain veneer, some sort of ambient heat system kept the bay warm. In golfing shorts and polo, she was completely comfortable despite the dropping temperature of the night. She took her own tablet from the table between them and glanced through the notes she collected from the previous two days. Thanks to their new eyes in the sky, Customs had already stopped one longboat full of drugs and weapons out on the open water. ATF was way ahead in their field work, but she knew they’d only tell so much to the Marshal Service. Thus was the competitive nature of the entire operation. Even though all three services were working together, each one would want to take the most credit for success and if that meant withholding a little to get the edge on making a big score, then that was just the nature of the beast. Xi drove his ball sharply and struck the target equally as firm. Paige cocked an eyebrow as she glanced up. She was fiercely competitive.

They traded the platform once again. Xi sat down taking a bottled beer from the ice bucket on the table. Paige watched her target come up on the score display. “So are we going to the, ‘fancy-dress’ party?” Xi chided.

“I don’t know, do you have a fancy dress?” Paige said. The ball came up and she sent it away again in a long arch. She leaned slightly to watch it, mildly concerned, but it still struck the side of the target.

“Afraid not,” Xi chuckled. “Nothing in my size” He took his club again and glanced up at the display.

“How about if I beat you, we find you one that fits?” Paige replied. She took a sip of a clear cocktail with a lime and didn’t sit down, merely leaning on her driver like a hiking-stick. He seemed a good type to her. He hadn’t been a Marshal for as long as her, but looked to have a level head, even for a Marine. She didn’t want any Robocop or GI Joe and he’d been classy enough not to bring up the terms of her transfer so far. She knew it was something they’d half to discuss eventually. For now though, the golf range had given them both a much needed release and they appeared to have good chemistry.

“I would take you up on that, but I think you’re some kind of target-golf hustler,” Xi said looking back. He squared his shoulders and swung. He leaned back tracking the shot to the farthest target, the same one she had just struck, the ball carried too much power and overshot into the netting, “Fuck.”

She grinned, “Fine, we’ll get your measurements later,” She knew she could take the round with the next shot and it was an easy one, distant and dead ahead. She smacked the ball off the tee and it shot like a laser beam directly into the target. Such was the force, they could hear the clap of the ball impact from the stand. The display shimmered in an animation declaring her the winner.

“Fine,” Xi said, mocking her southern accent.

“Listen you,” She said pointing the driver at him. She blushed a little and smirked. People had made sport of her accent since she was a child. It seemed to be more prevalent for her than other girls and never got any better with age. She liked it as one of her distinguishing features, but also hated to hear recordings of herself. “Just meet me in front of the complex in a couple hours.”