Jørgen Kuyper was a broad, well-muscled man in his mid twenties. A thick, protruding brow and general abundance of dark facial and arm hair lent him a neanderthal-esque appearance befitting the enforcer stereotype, and that he possessed the requisite sour demeanor and aptitude for violence rounded it out nicely. He'd only been in Barrowside a few years, but being a fascist at heart made him a natural fit, so he'd garnered a healthy measure of respect among his peers. That alone shielded him from rumors of heavy-handedness with several of the women in 5A, for there were no witnesses with enough credibility to pit their word against his. Cristi, however, had taken matters into his own hands after a woman he'd know since childhood, and even seen casually for a brief time, shared her brutal and humiliating encounter with Kuyper. Her account prompted him to re-wire a prototype stun device Jørgen was to test, such that the discharge points were routed to the grip instead of the primary leads. The effect was shocking, rendering the enforcer unconscious for several minutes and leaving his hand with serious electrical burns. Two weeks had passed and Jørgen's hand improved daily, which caused concern for some and anticipation for others, as he'd sworn to kill Cristi and was certainly belligerent enough to try. 

Cristi's mood was sour as he made his way across the compound, cursing his decision to spend the day in the motor pool, as it was literally the farthest point in Barrowside from his apartment. However, his situation was deteriorating rapidly with the System and other scientists, between the incident with Jørgen and his roommate constantly undermining his position with them, such that field work made for more pleasant days of late. Daniel Webster was perhaps the only one who wasn't on his ass from dawn til dusk and, fortunately, he was an applied guy as well so it was easy enough to get him over with the laborers from time to time. Of course, that was also Mike and Sean's territory as well, and he'd have preferred their company even under good circumstances. They were the silver lining to the figurative cloud following him. 

That it was third Friday should have been the ray of sunshine but, again, the incident with Jørgen soured the day. Mina. As early as he could remember, even when girls were icky and had cooties, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and he'd never stopped chasing his angel. As a child, he'd followed her around like a puppy, and as a teen he'd flirted with her mercilessly, eventually asking her out on a "date", such as they were in Barrowside, every week for a year until she finally said yes. They'd been off and on ever since, the awkwardness of adolescent immaturity transitioning to adult complexity always seeming to get in the way. Cristi thought they'd finally found each other, though, over the last couple months until Kuyper showed up in the infirmary. She genuinely cared for people, whether they deserved it or not, and he loved that about her, perhaps more than anything else, but he'd underestimated its depth. Everyone knew, whether they admitted it or not, that Kuyper had some payback coming and it wasn't that, at least as far as he could surmise, that bothered Mina. It was that Cristi had inflicted it. They tried to talk it out, but he'd hit a nerve and was too stubborn to apologize, so they'd left it on bad terms and hadn't spoken since.

Cristi was soaked by the time he reached his apartment. As he slung the door open, it was evident by the smell that his roommate was already home and cooking something horrible. The man had no sense of taste at all and always seemed to go for the most offensive-smelling foods imaginable. Seriously, Cristi hadn't believed preserved things could smell as rancid as what Richard managed to bring home, but the man was as cheap as they came and would gladly risk a questionable can if it saved a token. "Missed you today." A sneering call came from the main room which, given the cramped accommodations, was just a few feet away. "Strong back, weak mind. Isn't that what the System sends to 5A? Well, while you were hanging out with your under-achievers, we got some news. Jørgen Kuyper's going active in a couple days."

At 6'1", Cristi was half a head taller than Richard and, from his involvement in construction, in considerably better shape, so he momentarily considered thrashing the man's skull against the wall a few times. Yeah, that would go over well with Mina. And the System. He was a hair's breadth from some serious disciplinary action and he knew it. Pushing back the adrenalin and the throbbing of blood rushing through his ears, the hallmarks of fight or flight, he calmly slipped out of his issued work jumpsuit and slung the soaked garment on the tiny kitchen counter, or more correctly on the other things already piled on it. Without a word he crossed the short span of the main living area to his room and started dressing for free time. As he did so, he engaged his roommate in the verbal duel.

"That's great ... Dick. Glad his hand's OK ... Dick. But I'm wondering ... Dick ... why he got burned in the first place?" The question had been on his mind since the event, though he hadn't shared it with anyone but Daniel. Cristi had designed the stun device, or at least the schematics, and it shouldn't have been capable of doing any serious harm. Honestly, it had been more a theoretical exercise than anything, since the device would clearly have no effect at all on Greys.

"Yeah, me too. Guess you fucked up the math genius. And, really, the Dick thing. Kinda juvenile, don't ya think?"

"No ... Dick ... I don't. And no ... Dick ... I didn't. You did." No sooner had the words left his lips than the revelation came that, just maybe, Richard had gotten the math right but was operating with a different goal in mind. "Unless ..." Cristi stopped himself. The device was useless against Greys and Richard had amped it up purposely, leaving only one intended use. The thought sickened him, that his work would be twisted to such a purpose, but nothing seemed to be off limits where control of the populace was concerned. Slipping on a worn pair of leather boots and an equally worn, but sturdy, leather jacket, he snatched up his remaining tokens and left, slamming the door behind him.

If he'd dried off any in the few minutes he spent in the apartment, it no longer showed as the deluge again pelted him. In the short distance to Market Square, he'd already decided to blow the rest of his tokens if there was any significant alcohol content to whatever sludge they'd managed to dredge up. That is, until he saw her. Mina was already there, seated at a table by herself and sipping her drink. A few loose curls dangled down across her soft face, and as his eyes took her in his mood instantly softened. He placed a token on the bar, exchanging it for a luke-warm beverage.

"So, Cristi, when can we get something with a little more bite?" The man tending The Social had the best of intentions, and Cristi admired the fact that he did, as it was one of the few pleasures afforded them.

"Yeah, about that. You know where I'm at, man. I get a still going and it's my ass." A brief conversation ensued between the pair about distillation, the current situation with Kuyper, and virtually anything else Cristi could think of to avoid Mina. She was so damn beautiful and as much as he needed her, more as a friend than anything, his endurance was too thin to weather any residual anger.