[center][h1][color=#52cbf4]C [/color][color=#c5e2ec]I [/color][color=#b9dfec]R [/color][color=#a0daed]I [/color][color=#87d4ee]L [/color][color=#75d1f0]L [/color][color=#64cef2]O   [/color][color=#a0daed]B [/color][color=#6dd0f1]I [/color][color=#87d4ee]A [/color][color=#a0daed]N [/color][color=#b9dfec]C [/color][color=#c5e2ec]H [/color][color=#52cbf4]I [/color][/h1][/center]
[right][color=#ae9c9c][i][b]Toukotan Park, The Asterisk[/b]
Spring, SY 3233/UC 233/AY 117[/i][/color][/right]
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... Huh.

When the Syndicate had busted down his door to [i]kindly [/i]inform him that he'd be sent to some distant-ass rock come morrow, Cyril had expected his destination to be some kind of post-apocalyptic hellhole of a star. You know, lava lakes, brain-eating zombies, pineapples on pizza, the whole shebang. He'd spent the entire night thinking up all sorts of horrid scenarios in vivid detail - and found it much more fun than sanity should allow.

Come morning, the teen was sure nothing could surprise him anymore. 

He was wrong. The Asterisk was... way more [i]normal [/i]than he'd ever dared expect. Sure, sure, it was a technological wonder like no other in the known world, a testament to human ingenuity, a [i]miracle[/i] in its own right-- but compared to the kind of places a teenager's overactive imagination could spawn at five in the morning, it was almost mundane.

But hey, Cyril wasn't complaining. If he had to risk his ass fighting people he didn't know for a cause he didn't really care for, he was glad he could do it in a place that didn't lack in entertainment. From the sounds to the sights to the [i]people[/i], the city was constantly abuzz with motion and [i]life[/i]. One could waste an entire month just pacing around the city and marveling at the architecture, if they were so inclined. 

And if all the sights and shops grew too boring, there were always the--

Cyril yanked his upper body backwards just in time to avoid being blasted from the side by a sudden sphere of fire.

Brows raised from mild surprise, Cyril bit off the head of his bunny-shaped ice cream cone and took a step back to avoid a possible second blow. Seriously though, who the [i]hell [/i]shaped their ice cream like a bunny? That was some sadistic shit right there, making him decapitate cute little critters for a mouthful of chocolate-y goodness. 

But, yeah, the fights. Those were a thing - a more [i]common [/i]thing than one would expect, and definitely high entertainment for the psychopathically-inclined. Though, [i]usually [/i]those wanting to duke it out didn't do so [i]in the middle of a public place [/i]where they could cause collateral damage. Because, you know, paying for destroyed buildings and dead grandmothers was not a fun way to start your school year.

Probably not the sharpest tools in the spaceship, these guys.

Stuffing the rest of his sadly-shaped ice cream into his face, Cyril took a glance around. He'd rather liked to see what came outta the fight, but he also didn't want to stand where he could catch the next poorly-aimed ball of fire and fury. His clothes were new, would've sucked to have to replace them because someone burnt them up.

A quick glance-around didn't help him locate any misplaced observation decks (typical), but he did find something else. A cute girl with a bike, documenting the happenings in a dramatic tone. Oh, now she had the right idea. That looked like fun.

Grinning, Cyril slid next to the girl, his voice theatrical as he picked up from where she had left off and joined in on the narration.

[color=#75d1f0]"I've heard of 'sticking' it to the man, but heavens, this is ridiculous-!" [/color]He held one hand against his forehead to exemplify his words - not that it [i]mattered[/i], since he wasn't in the actual film. But theater was all about investment and putting yourself out there. Let none tell you otherwise. [color=#75d1f0]"Truly, justice is blind! ... And these poor boys even blinder! Oh, won't anyone think of the children--- being attacked by other children?!"[/color]

No, but, really.

What the [i]hell [/i]kind of a sicko stabbed people [i]in the eye?[/i]

... Probably the same kind who designed those bunny ice creams, come to think of it.

Truly, 'tis a sick world they lived in.
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