[center][b][h2]Paige Kennedy[/h2][/b][/center]

Paige glanced down at her phone briefly in midstride checking a few emails and other messages. Across one saved tab flashed the weather forecast… for Delta City. Her lips pursed slightly. A high of seventy-nine and a nighttime low of sixty-three with the evening temperature a comfortable seventy degrees. That pathetic loser, Milo, put it on her mind. Seeing him brought back a lot of memories and though many of them were framed by his foolish exploits, it was the setting, her home that tugged at her heart strings. The last few days had been such a whirlwind that she hadn’t really thought about it a lot, but as she put her phone away and began to approach City Hall, the building where their office was currently situated, it was beginning to wear on her a little. She hoped they could have this sewn up quickly and she could find a way to finagle her way back. The image of the man she’d cut down blinked by in an instant. Even though it had been the primary reason for her transfer, she was proud of what she’d done and though no one could say it officially, she knew most were of a similar sentiment. 

Making her way around the perimeter she aimed to use her passkey to enter from the side rather than having to bump elbows with the masses through the main gate, but found some sort of commotion making its way through the party as she walked. She paid little mind at first, brushing it off as revelers having too much of a good time giving the local cops some entertainment. However, as it grew closer she thought she could hear the sound of [i]her name[/i] being called and it gave her enough pause to stop and look. Even against the sounds of the party there was no doubt as she listened hard and intently. [i]Someone was calling for her[/i] though she had no idea who or for what reason. The wind blew some of her hair and as she brushed it away the appearance of a garish holiday-coordinated tracksuit became apparent. She cocked her head slightly as the smell of heavy cologne arrived shortly before the hefty body that carried it along. Once the large man had broken through there was virtually no mistake about the identity. 

“Lupe?” She said with genuine surprise. Her expression lightened. The Floridian was clearly winded along with some of his less conditioned security detail. They’d apparently covered some ground to catch up to her. There was also a young Indian tagging along in an odd purple military jacket reminiscent of Michael Jackson. He wore such a vacant grin on his face Paige wondered if he might be from some sort of challenged youth program that Lupe was being forced to cart around as one of his many token punishments. “What are you doing here?” She asked. 

[@aladdin_sane]