[b][color=7ea7d8]GILBERT HALLORAN[/color][/b]

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 [i]perfectly[/i] 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.