[center][IMG]http://i1214.photobucket.com/albums/cc493/zarkys5/prism_head_by_sh3ikha-d81599l%201.png[/IMG][/center][hr] Probation? Sounds about right. Most jobs usually had a trial period for their employees. He figured that a group trying to be organized is going to have a similar run-down to an organized company, especially when you’re dealing with this entire group of people with clashing ideologies. If they don’t know how to handle the situation, or if they’re too fresh, then a little jaunt on the town and a pretty tag on the wall (regardless of its quality) barely simulates a challenge that could potentially level the city or at least cripple its oppressive government. Let those that fail the first mission fail. In fact, based on what people were talking about, there were already some that were thinking about avoiding this group altogether. He’d be lying if he said he would prefer that Dax guy either be far away from him or out of the group entirely. His final introduction seemed too quick, too weak for the earlier reaction, leaving two options. Either he was consistently trying to put on an act or he was clinically insane. Based on the first impression, however, the idea of working for D4TA would be interesting. Based on some of the more complicated technical things he’s seen (plus the fact those sites have evaded the government for so long) meant that there could be much more that the pair of them could do together. The could be like two sides of the perfect shape, just waiting to align in perfect symmetry. There he was going on an art tangent again. Nitrous gave one more glance around the room, eyes stopping on Data’s flickering mask for a moment before he pushed himself away from his space on the wall with a yawn. His heel tapped the floor once more, and the wheels slid out in a usual fashion. He readjusted the straps, eyed Dax one more time before his attention went back to Kacey. [color=lightgreen] “Until next time, then,” [/color] he stated. Then, with a trail of neon he zoomed out of the room, pulling a few blocks away and around the corner before throwing himself onto a small electrical box, right across from where one of his other symbols lay. It was only midnight, after all, and there was no way his nagging thoughts would let him sleep this early. There were so many questions. Ratpack. What was it they were after, exactly? Was art their main focus, or was it something else? Either way, he could assume that at least Data knew his intentions. Some of his deeper profiles potentially held some even stronger ideals, especially based on how he assumed the white buildings shaped their society, and how even he was willing to do whatever it took to bring back a little bit of colour. In that sense, all of the Taggers that existed were pushing towards the same goal. And even when they covered it up, Nitrous took ample satisfaction from the slightly off-shade colour that was left behind. His more private thoughts could stay in his black box, however. For now, his attention drew to the empty night sky. Light pollution made it near impossible to pick out the specks of stars. He hadn’t ever seen the stars in a real sense. Only from books did he know about the chaos of the universe. To be honest, that stuff was something he wasn’t willing to touch. He shook his coffee canister, which was still pretty full, and took another swig as he lifted the bottom of his mask and kept his eyes to the sky. [color=lightgreen]”Don’t worry, Mom. Hopefully I can bring back our colourful world.” [/color]