[center][sub][sub][h2][i][color=FF7F50]A[/color][/i] n t o n   [i][color=FF7F50]D[/color][/i] r a g o m i r o v[/h2][/sub][/sub][/center]
[center][sub]O M I N A R[/sub]
[sub][i]~  The   Rooftops  ~[/i][/sub][/center][hr][center][sub][sub][h3]-{}-   Even in the face of uncertainty, one must simply   .  .  .    [color=FF7F50][i]B r e a t h e[/i][/color]   -{}-[/h3][/sub][/sub][/center]
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As he stood on the ledge and gazed out over the light bathed horizon, only one calming thought appeared in the forefront of Anton's mind:

[i]The cityscape was a beautiful sight to behold, indeed.[/i]

With a slight grin that immediately exhaled an audible gruff, Anton fell purposely to find an impromptu seat on the edge of one of the taller buildings in the city. He sighed once more and pulled around the messenger bag on his back. There was not much to see within the medium-sized, black and red pack, but an older and worn looking book emerged before the bag slid back around to its previous position. The hazel-eyed man impatiently leafed through the tome seemingly looking for some specific page before he finally settled somewhere near the middle. Despite having the same look, his eyes drank up the words they surely tasted once before for a moment before averting to the sky above as Anton fell backwards and laid himself out. The day was clear, the weather was tolerable, and the few clouds there were crawled slowly in an eastern direction, but the annoyed courier beneath them was not satisfied. [color=FFA07A]"Screw it all. Just screw it,"[/color] he muttered to himself as a soft vibration on his chest caught his attention. 

Reluctantly erecting himself into a sitting position on the ledge once more - jean legs and sneakers dangling in the air - Anton reached into his inner jacket pocket and brandished a large black slate. The screen brightened under the light of the sun, but he tapped the display and put it straight to his ear rather than take a look at the caller ID. He already knew who was calling. [color=FFA07A]"Let me guess. They're complaining, right?"[/color] He nonchalantly spoke into the speaker of the phone. A rustling of papers seemed to smear over the earpiece eliciting an eye roll from Anton before a female voice finally replied. 

"The hell do you think? Of course they're complaining you jackass!" She shouted. Anton sighed. 

[color=FFA07A]"You know, you really should take it easier in life. With that kind of attitude you'll only end up with grey hair before your time."[/color]

"The only thing I'll end up with is an eviction notice and a prescription to Adderall fuckin' with you. Do you hate money now, too? We already know you have something against my sanity." 

[color=FFA07A]"Don't be like that, Rose. It was just a detour. It was supposed to--"[/color]

"I know, I know, it was supposed to be a shortcut right? But something always happens. What happened this time? Actually, don't even tell me. Don't even disrespect my ears anymore than you already have. Just deliver the damn package. I swear, if you weren't the only who could get passed the patrols discreetly, I would never even work with your unprofessional ass." 

Anton stretched a bit and slowly stood on top of the ledge overlooking another rooftop that was lower in height - though not too much lower - than the building he was on, but not too far away for a jump. [color=FFA07A]"Yeah you would,"[/color] he replied adjusting the strap of his bag across his chest, [color=FFA07A]"My charming disposition and winning personality makes this kind of job bearable for an operator like you."[/color] 

Rose audibly sucked her teeth. "Like hell they do, just hurry up. You're cutting it close as shit," she said before a click and a dial tone echoed. Anton chuckled and returned his phone to the interior of his brown jacket. He had never been late on a delivery a single time, but he truly did enjoy giving his operator a heart attack. He backed off the ledge and grabbed the strewn tome, placing it back in his bag, before turning to face the edge of the roof once more. He was only a few feet from it, but he never needed that much of a running start. With a brief exhale and focus in his mind of the duty at hand, Anton launched forward with a burst of speed and energy, toed the ledge, and pushed himself far into the air. Wind ruffled his hair as he descended toward the lower rooftop with increasing velocity. The excitement building within pulled a smile onto the man's face as he neared his landing. Legs outstretched and held together, as soon as his sneakers made contact, the ground below began to change rapidly. Hardened cement rippled and pulsated in places where Anton's body touched down in a shoulder roll the on-foot courier had performed thousands of times before. The phenomenon occurred until he came up from his roll and shifted immediately into a forward sprint. Indentations left from the landing slowly reformed into the flat, hardened concrete it was before - much like a soft mattress after one gets up. 

A few more brazen jumps and a quick slide down a pipe on the side of a building brought the courier to ground level. Ignoring bewildered bystanders and cars, Anton sped across a four-lane street, vaulting over the hood of a parked car before disappearing into an alley directly across from it. Brick walls, transformer boxes, and the odd homeless or shady hooded guy zoomed by in the peripheral vision of the speedy delivery boy as he navigated between obstacles, up over and fences, and around corners which led into narrow stretches. The route through the back-alleys was one that Anton was extremely familiar with and one that allowed him to reach most of his regular clients quicker. The particular recipient of the package he currently held was an older man with little to no patience. He was an alleged member of a small-time mob that specialized in money lending. The less fortunate would be granted loans despite their past histories and with exorbitant interest rates that would suddenly skyrocket only a few days after their initial contract acceptance. Most of those who were granted the illegitimate loans would not be able to pay them back anyway, but the fact that they got hit with a repayment notice within the first week was especially underhanded. Of course, none of this was Anton's business. 

Anton worked as a courier simply due to the fact that it paid well and he was capable of properly working with more dangerous types. The morality of his various clients was of no concern to him and as long as he got his full payday, his silence was usually assured. Even when he did not get his payday, the better answer was always to handle the situation internally rather than involve authorities. Local law enforcement was bad enough, but god forbid a bored Prae enforcement officer somehow caught wind and got involved; the result would not be good for either party. Anton finally began to slow down as he sighted the establishment he was looking for. He emerged from an alley onto a bustling sidewalk and took a moment to regain his breath. 

The building across the street was a simple storefront built in the midst of other random businesses on either side. A glass window, slightly recessed into a red brick wall on the right side of the door, was painted with large white letters that read [i]Easy Loans[/i]. It was impossible to see through the window due to shuttered blinds just inside, but people always seemed to be going in and out. Anton shook his head, wondering whether those interested really did not know the reputation of the place or they were just too desperate to care. Adjusting his jacket under the strap across his chest a bit, he checked the time on his phone and crossed the street. He was one minute late. There was a first time for everything. 

A quaint bell announced his presence as the courier strolled through and raised an eyebrow. He was always curious as to why the business was not as updated as most other places. The floor was laid with white and black tile that caused any type of shoe to echo a sort of [i]clop[/i] sound when a body entered while the walls were painted a strange white and olive color scheme with an antique ceiling fan hanging in the upper middle of the open space. All in all, the interior was not very big with only a front desk at the left from the entrance and a line of chairs on the right wall. Just beyond that were two doors opposite one another. The door on the right wall led to a bigger area with cubicles to handle different customers and their loan needs. The door on the left was the only door Anton ever entered as it led to several different portions of the building, one of them being the room he needed to get to. Swaggering passed the front desk with his hands pocketed, Anton gave the half-attentive woman manning the station a knowing look and she nodded towards the left door - no spoken greeting meant Mack was pissed. 

Malachi Brenson, better known as Mack, was the owner of Easy Loans and an [i]alleged[/i] member of a small-time mob. Unlike most gangster types, he was not a very imposing man. His bald, rough, and grizzled looking visage was more round than defined and found itself attached to a medium-sized, flabby torso with slender arms and stubby looking legs. To add to his non-threatening physicality, he was also a few inches shy of six feet tall. In this case, however, the mobster had proven capable in spite of his lackluster appearance. The whispered rumors spoken in hushed tones said that Mack's propensity for violence combined with his surprisingly charismatic personality meant that what he lacked in physically imposing prowess, he more than made up for in loyal followers and weapons that got any job he wanted, in the city, done. The Brenson family in general were all known for their astounding leadership qualities and capacity to get things handled in the face of insurmountable odds - in that regard, Mack was just living up to the reputation his surname carried. On this particular day, he was currently deciding whether to live up to that reputation in a loud or quiet manner.

The knife slid under the skin of the apple fluidly as Mack methodically peeled his golden delicious. Two distinct knocks pierced the near silence of the office and a quick nod sent a generic looking henchman over to the door to welcome the guest. Anton took just enough steps forward to allow the door to close behind him and he opted to wait a moment while the henchman returned to his post - a sign of respect to wait to be acknowledged and told to come forward. He was greeted with the same black-finish, wooden desk and grey carpet he had become accustomed to seeing every time he delivered a package to Easy Loans. The office was also just as small as he remembered with the two guards standing on either side of the desk looking as if they felt cramped in their respective positions and only about fifteen feet between the door and the desk at the end of the room. Even the dim lighting of the circular fixtures in the ceiling flickered every once in a while. To Anton, it was a painfully shitty kind of place, but Mack had always said it was not his actual base of operations. 

"Ya know why I peel the skin off my apples before I eat'em? It ain't like I have anything against the skin," Mack said calmly, still focused on peeling. Anton pulled his hands out of his pockets to let them hang naturally while mentally groaning. It seemed like it was time for another one of Mack's ramblings. 

[color=FFA07A]"Nope. No idea."[/color]

"It's 'cause even though I got nothin' against the outside of the apple, sometimes I just don't like to deal with the shit it brings. It gets stuck in your teeth, it can be annoying to chew, et cetera, et cetera." The knife came to a stop just as the last bit of skin fell off onto the pile resting on a portion of the desk. Mack set it down calmly. 

[color=FFA07A]"Well, that's absolutely fascinating. I got this package though, so I should probably just leave this here and be on my way,"[/color] Anton replied as he unveiled a small white box from his bag and began to move forward towards the desk. The guards on either side took step forward as the courier got close prompting the hazel-eyed man to stop. 

"See, that's where I'm at with this relationship we got goin' here. I got nothing against the guy who brings me my packages personally, but I'm feelin' like I'd rather deal with the company directly, ya know? Then I wouldn't have deal with [i]shit[/i] like my fucking deliveries not gettin' here on time." Mack sat back in his large, leather chair and interlocked his fingers. Each guard took another step closer. Anton was silent for a moment before he chuckled. Mack had no visible reaction. 

[color=FFA07A]"As much I'd love to make a rebuttal to that, the thing is, you know I'm on a schedule. Besides, as we both already know, I'm the only person who bothers to even bring your [i]shit[/i] anymore. Or did you forget that you've dealt with or alienated every single other person? We're in hard times right now with the Prae and all their crap and I'm the [i]only[/i] guy who can still get here at all. Oh, look. I made a rebuttal anyway. Now, you going to hold up your end or are we going to have to work this out right here and now?"[/color] Anton folded his arms and waited. Mack did not move for a moment, before a sly grin stretched onto his face. 

"Look at this, boys. The only man who can talk like this to me and get away with it. I'm goin' soft." Mack opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a small piece of paper. At the same time, Anton placed the package on the other side of the desk as the guards took a step back. Though Mack was truly a man to be feared, Anton had something of a special relationship with him. That, and this package he was waiting on was more important than usual which prompted the courier to ask for something in return for the first time. Little did his operator know, this something was in lieu of the usual cash payment. She was not going to be happy. 

[color=FFA07A]"Pleasure doing business with you,"[/color] Anton said as he picked up the paper. Mack waved him off and his guards escorted the courier to and out the door. 

"The Navigator huh... Shit. He still made it passed the patrols. What a fucking guy," Mack muttered to himself. 

Once he hit the cold light of the sun once more, Anton hurriedly looked at the paper; he was pleased to see that Mack had delivered. The small sheet had a location written in neat handwriting. It was supposed to be the location to a potential meeting of like-minded individuals. Individuals who disliked the Prae occupation to the point that they felt they needed to take action - to actually do something about it. Although the courier had never thought about getting involved in such a way before, the rumors of a resistance had intrigued him. With the supposed location in tow, Anton took off at a light jog towards another back-alley.

Even though the meeting place was apparently on the outskirts of the city, it still had not taken long for The Navigator to arrive. He had earned his moniker for a reason, after all. The warehouse was aged and abandoned, but at this moment it seemed like it was more lively than it had been in years. Anton casually strolled inside and slowed down immensely. He gawked at the sheer amount of people in attendance as he eyes darted from left to right and back trying to discern any familiar or interesting faces. Apart from those who looked like they weren't really human, Anton relaxed more when he did not see anyone he knew. What would his family think of him now if they knew he was at a meeting for the dissenters who disliked the government? He had never considered himself an anarchist, but he was interested in hearing what was to be said. At the very least, he had come with an ulterior motive. At that moment, a soft vibration on his chest caught his attention. 

"What. The. Fuck. Anton?" Rose intoned. Anton smiled sheepishly at nothing in particular. 

[color=FFA07A]"You gotta understand... That my battery is dying and I'll call you back,"[/color] Anton replied before tapping the end call button on his display. He sighed as he knew he would have to hear it later and turned his attention back to the meeting he assumed would be starting soon. While he wanted more information on this possible resistance, what he really wanted was to meet other humans who used magic in an effort to try and understand his own abilities. He wanted the thing other human mages had that he had never possessed and he thought this would be the place to point him in the right direction - the direction to finding his very own Focus.