[h2]Marcus Bellamy[/h2] [hr] The air was cool; thick with fog and general stickiness of morning humidity, enough to make it hard to breath and bring any strenuous physical activity down a notch. Beads of sweat rolled down the man's face, only to be patted away by an old white t-shirt pulled from the back pocket of his running shorts, making room for several more to well up from his pores and roll across his skin once again. But, it wasn't every day that an early morning jog around the inside perimeter of the settlement went according to plan. If it wasn't weather conditions, it was economic. In fact most mornings were usually half that distance -or less- just due to blockades of certain areas being under construction, or flooded for a number of reasons. There was an unusual stench that permeated at times within sections of the compound that could possibly be from sewage backup, or dead animal carcasses disposed of in the wrong way, or simply the ever-growing vermin problems. [i]Rats. Especially rats.[/i] Marcus did his best to push away the random thoughts which consistently invaded his mind whether he wanted them there in the first place or not. An economy that has its ups and downs and the stacking problems and tensions that citizens of Fireflies were having to experience for the last month since the accident at the Dam. And yet what about those living within Water Leaf? Those young and old who were considered friends and -to some degree- family for generations, all the while strengthening the infrastructure of a society already on the fringe of collapse and outside threats. But it that hadn't been bad enough, that nagging guilt of the night his uncle came to his rescue, put himself in harm's way because an adolescent boy wanted to be an “adventurer". The end result was a very dead relative and nothing to show for it but pain and anguish within his side of the family. Maybe they didn't say it aloud, but Marcus knew they thought it: [i]He was responsible.[/i] The toll emanating from the central clock tower pulled Marcus from his otherwise over-extended reverie, which was a good thing considering he may have continued his run for an endless amount of time just to clear his head. Oddly enough, the man didn't let much bother him, especially in his line of work essentially overseeing the welfare of a society. But the tensions rising up in small pockets were hard to ignore, as reminders seemed to be everywhere… --------------------- “How are you feeling, hon?” “Like shit warmed over.” A low, raspy voice from under the covers said. “But, thanks for asking.” “Doc Lasco says you should be fine in a couple of days as the virus works its way out.” Marcus pulled the light tan covers from over his wife’s pale face, and ran his fingers through her short, auburn hair, taking care to untangle any strands along the way. “Oh great, so I get to vomit up what little I can eat?” She shot him a wry grin. “That's great news.” Sick or otherwise, Mila’s sarcastic brand of humor never failed, but that was also her way of dealing with an illness that has otherwise kept her bedridden and feeling terrible for almost a week. Whatever the virus was, it has started shortly before that, hitting a handful of children first and then a few adults, as cases were being reported from one end of the settlement to the other. Most within Fireflies assumed it was Water Leaf causing it, but when their citizens started showing signs, those rumors began to die down. Either way, Marcus had to work closely with the medical staff as they continued investigating the source. Smiling back at his beautiful bride of seven years, he planted a kiss on her clammy forehead before heading into the washroom for a long awaited shower.