[center][h1]Enoch[/h1] [hider=Music][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zAThXFOy2c[/youtube][/hider] [/center][hr][color=gray]Boardwalk Charity Beach, Florida 15XX hrs Saturday, June 11th[/color] Brooks sat under the fading blue, the rolling sky which in mere hours would give to a blood-red sunset, and finally dusk, a black night that, on this date in particular, would be so flooded with festivity and light that its pollution would blot out the stars, even the moon. An interesting thought, that such a thing as simple light reflecting back could entirely obscure the stars themselves. It made no difference to him. He clutched a bottle in his hand, green and wrapped in a silver label. The bottle, ice-cold as it was, frothed from its neck as Brooks took swig after swig of its contents. He people-watched as he drank, crowds swirling around him, a balloon in every hand and a smile on most every face. But he wasn't here for the people. He was, as his word, here for the food and booze. But that wasn't really the truth, was it? It'd been months, even years since he'd had such an opportunity to appear publicly, without blatant fear or an entire personal armory. It was nice to get out sometimes. As he brought up the bottle to his lips, he traced over an LEO - a law enforcement officer - standing nearby. FAMA, and were those- lightning bolts stenciled on? Shaking his head, he pursued the gulp of swill he was after, returning to his post of simply watching, basking in actually being in the public and not simply hiding among them. The FAMA officer walked away, accompanied by a woman. Trailing them with his eyes, something caught his attention. Namely the big fuck-off lizard leaning against a poor tree that seemed to be straining under his weight. Henry. Brooks knocked back the remainder of the bottle, pushing his seat back from the table at which he sat - alone. On his way over, he tossed the bottle into a bin, before approaching the reptilian monstrosity. [@JunkMail]