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[h2][color=a0410d]V E N S E R   S I T O L[/color][/h2]
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[color=fff79a][sub][i]HELSTON[/i][/sub][/color]  [color=a0410d][b]|[/b][/color]  [color=fff79a][i][sub]FRIDAY[/sub][/i][/color]  [color=a0410d][b]|[/b][/color]  [color=fff79a][sub][i]26 OCTOBER[/i][/sub][/color]
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	Venser glided through the fluster and rush of Helston like a snake through tall grass. The patter of thick boots on pavement, the occasional cock and test-fire of a fire-arm in the distance; it was a potent hum-drum that blanketed the city almost as thickly as the smog. Capable and willing people had been mobilized, tromping like cattle that had just felt the singe of a brand. Venser noticed crowded buses barge ahead of personal vehicles on major roads; little toy soldiers were already being shipped out to those magical coordinates that had lit up everyone's phones only minutes before. The mystery of what was there, however, had visibly bolstered the swarm of civilian militants. That dramatic flare of light attracted everyone like moths.

	Through the grunge of that alley way, under the wires and barbed fencing of that street-corner, and Venser had come upon the bunker-like residence of Venito. Stained concrete walls possessed a mouth of solid, varnished wood. It was a simple door that sported a greasy brass knob and basic geometric patterning; almost as stout and oily as the tenant that lived behind it. Venser rapped the door and listened as it responded with the heaving stomps of a man fueled by annoyed curiosity. Not even his wide, heavy door could fully muffle the sound of Venito's own grumblings. Venser took off his face mask, loosened his shoulders, and started counting out his currency. The quick [i]fwish[/i] of the door's spotting hole heralded Venito's appearance.

	[color=0072bc][i]"Who the fuck is knoc- oh, its just you shorty. Why the fuck are you out? Shouldn't you be cooped up in that house of yours?"[/i][/color] Venito growled, his eyes bulging out towards Venser as the red-head made eye contact. [color=a0410d][i]"Thought I'd take a walk, maybe go down to the circus they're setting up outside of town. Said you need some fire-arms to get in though; tickets won't cut it."[/i][/color] The ginger responded, hoisting a handful of silvery coins towards the slit in the door. [i][color=0072bc]"Psh. Must be the end times if you're finally getting your ass up to respond to a Gen Alert. All I got is my revolver and shotgun; submachines are for me."[/color][/i] Venito stated, his meaty paw scooping the money up and slamming the spotting hole with a casual air of business. After a moment of hearing Venito sort through certain drawers and the likes, the door was unlocked and swung open as the barrel-chested man thrust the weapons and ammunition into the arms of Venser. [color=0072bc][i]"Alright, you got your shit, now go on and get yourself killed."[/i][/color] The large man retorted, beginning to close his bulky front door before Venser's foot stopped it from meeting the wall.

[color=a0410d][i]"You still have my bike back in that garage of yours?"[/i][/color]

[color=0072bc][i]"Its collateral, pay the part of the debt like we talked about and you get it back."[/i][/color]

[i][color=a0410d]"I think I'll be able to do that; give me till tonight and I'll pay you that and a little something."[/color][/i]

[color=0072bc][i]"Fuck off kid. I'm not giving you the bike, just leave an-"[/i][/color]

[color=a0410d][i]"All the cash I make off working this Gen Alert gets wired to you. You'll get it as it rolls in; Ezi's working the computers anyways."[/i][/color]

	Venser watched as Venito's face made an inquisitive expression, one half-way between distaste and tantalization. The ginger could feel the weight of quiet thought as the stocky man pondered his proposition. Venito's hand let go of the door knob, plunged into his pocket, and brought out a gold-colored set of motorcycle keys. [color=0072bc][i]"Five silver down, right now. Don't fuck me over Ven, I know where you live."[/i][/color] Venser chuckled at the threat; it was one of Venito's favorites. The broad man quickly clutched the coins, and the short red-head swiftly swiped the keys.

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	Tight alleyways and streets turned into the narrow gaps between cars and buses in congested traffic. Pebble 82 was a mess, a blob of noisy vehicles and regular wrecks that Venser was lucky enough to speed through. Soon the sight of the resistance front come within view; a make-shift camp crawling with excitable civilians and overworked officers. Venser could smell the scents of burning power cells, sweaty adrenaline and smoky gunshots before he even arrived. The wild frontier of Helston.

	Venser's motorcycle screeched to a halt outside the camp, musty dust coming up in a flaky plume around him as he hopped of his bike and began checking his weaponry. He breathed in deep through his face-mask; the air was so much cleaner outside of the main city. The ginger wiped off his fire-arms and began inserting stolen power-cells and ammunition into their respective ports, feeding the metal beast just like Venito had shown him the first time he rented a weapon. At ten years old, his stubby fingers were barely able force the shells down into the revolver.

	The ginger tied his hair back, smothered it with his beanie, and drew a pair of round sun-glasses over his face. The pump-action shotgun was slung over his zipped-up jacket, the mammoth of a handgun holstered on his belt. He scoffed a bit at the gear that other people surrounded him with; vests and leg-guards and helmets that made the red-head feel under-dressed. He'd have to do with just a thick pair of jeans and three layers. As long as the situation stayed free of union influences and excluded any projectile shots foreign to the resistance, Venser felt this was worth it. Foxtrot 11 would pay big bucks to get front line photos of whatever the hell was going on at Helston. The red-head would have Artemis to guide him through, anyways.

	Stalking around the camp looking for his female companion, Venser soon came within ear-shot of a familiar voice and that of a more dignified, nervous character. Their conversation was distant, but Venser's snooping nature did him well to decipher their dialogue. He could have sworn the woman sounded almost like the grocer from the supermarket he had been at before.

[color=b89383]“What exactly is this enemy? It doesn’t seem like it’s any of the unions.”[/color]

[color=c2abab]“We don’t know, but they are not human. When the assault begins, we’re packing things up here and going back to Helston. This area will be swarmed and we need to prepare the town’s defenses, and evacuate everyone southwards, to Halos City.”[/color]

[color=b89383]“So, these people here are more or less charging into their deaths?”[/color]

	[color=a0410d]'Heh, fun. I can't integrate into the insensitives without being made cannon fodder.'[/color], Venser thought, looking around at all the non-Aeons that would soon become military-mandated meat shields to some inhuman force. But that was exactly what had Venser thrilled as well as somewhat terrified; that alien enemy. A factor that could ensure his photos became valuable leaks on a potential resistance cover-up, as well as seal a gruesome fate for him if he wasn't careful. Venser quickly patted his jacket for his phone, making sure it was still with him. When he felt it, he reassured himself that this was all worth it. If this evolved into what he thought, Venito would be the one getting the short stack of cash tonight. This was all definitely worth it.

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	Only about a moment of time passed before Venser received Artemis' text and double-timed himself over to where she was, shoving through crowds and the like as more people and equipment began to fill the camp. Spotting her from a distance, the ginger quickly zig-zagged through the base until he popped out from behind a corner and nearly surprised her. His greeting was equally sudden and brash, almost complimenting his unexpected materialization from the make-shift militant tents.

	[color=a0410d][i]"To answer your question, [b]their[/b] game plan is to start lobbing non-Aeons at the threat so they can leave. And yeah, we have a threat; inhuman and most likely originating from the meteor. We're fucking with aliens and they want to high-tail it back to Halos City. I say, for now, we act like good little resistance pets until we can get our pay-day. But we do it on the Aeon personnel carriers."[/i][/color] Venser spouted, dust kicking up around his boots in small whirls of whispy movements. After his initial spiel, however, he shrugged and looked up at Artemis, adding, [color=a0410d][i]"But, I'm not the veteran here."[/i][/color] He pointed a single finger at the pistol she still held in her hand.