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10:30 am 

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The shuttle began to circle around to a car park. Trafalgar Square seemed to have transformed overnight into a splash of streamers, golds, yellows, and blue streamers decorated the street lights in spiraling designs, loud music, and several several vendors were spread across the large square hall. Furthermore to emphasize the theme of the park it seemed several people, not a good portion of the crowd were semi naked or completely painted in various different shades of blue, green, violet, yellow. Some wore partial halloween costumes, devil horns spray painted white. There were even some people who had spray painted their body to look like Bridget, though none of them stood as tall as she did.

Those not brave enough to dawn facepaint, wore t-shirts and jeans. Many of them said, New Breed Ally, or I <3 SYNBAD, others said New Breed is my Spirit Animal. So and so forth. The smell of many different kind of vendor foods all collided together into one “parade smell”. A smell you couldn’t describe unless you were at a parade to realize that certain particular smell. A DJ sat on the stage blasting music as a crowd of people off tune and out of key with each other. 

“You guys have fun!” the DJ shouted.

The crowd hollered in joy, “YEAH!!”

Bikes were decorated with different colored streamers. Some creative folks had decided to turn said bikes into different types of monstrosities. As if they were meant for another parade, and yet they didn’t seem to recognize the disconnect.

At times like this Viorel felt like he still experienced culture shock. He never remembers parades being so. Well he wasn’t sure the right word to use to describe his feelings on the matter were.

“Well there are several convincing Bridget cosplays, though she may stand out of the crowd due to her height,” Viorel said an attempt at humor in the car park, though his delivery was so dry no one actually caught the humor aspect, “Keep in contact with with each other. We’ll meet back here later when the festivities have begun to die down. Have fun. Don’t get into any trouble and to remember to support small local businesses that have remained open.”

Angelica hops out of the drivers side and leans on the shuttle.

“Make it sound real boring Viorel,” Angelica tells, “Awight listen up you fuckheads. I want this to be nice and clean. You will kiss the public’s hand if they ask. Fuckin’ kiss their babies forehead. If they ask for a photo. You give them a photo, Bridgett. I want this to go nice and clean. And you will all behave like fucking kiss asses. This could go good for us. Get a lot of sponsorship and funding. And if any of you fucking wankers ruin this for me. There will be a titty twister waiting for you. And now Luka you won’t enjoy it because I’ll fucking tear your nipples off cause I got fucking bear hands. Do all of you shit stains understand?”

It was a rhetorical question because she dismisses them with her hand. Viorel escorts Gemina out of the car park. While the rest of them are wandering off, with a look of fear and confusion. The parade is upon them, and they have become the public’s face. It was a social due or die situation. Where every action they took would be used to judge them. For better or for worse. 

As they scattered with their plans in mind. There was this overwhelming daunting feeling about this event. On one hand it was meant to be fun. On another hand there was a lot of pressure to perform appropriately.