[center][url=https://fontmeme.com/fonts/righteous-font/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200420/babbd668c4b7d65085b7d5827bf30efd.png[/img][/url] & [img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjcyLjdkMzI4NS5VeWQyWlc1cFlRLCwuMA,,/lailatul.regular.png[/img]

A Collaboration Between [@Firecracker_] and [@MagratheanWhale][/center]

Even the clouds must’ve felt the energy emanating from the Reclaim, as they had almost entirely cleared from the sky, bathing the  Zone in a radiant sunshine that it wasn’t used to seeing. Even the gloomy muted browns and greens seemed bright and energetic as hundreds of people flooded Central Square, all clamoring to get a look at the mayoral candidates all arriving ahead of the debates. The whole ordeal seemed to be draped in an edge of nervousness, a strange unsettledness that permeated the crowd, including Oleksandr. With a rigid face and observant eyes, the usually laid back courier was shuffling past various attendees, far from the Debate Stage on the other side of the Square. While his mind was occupied on the run in with the Tinmen, his eyes were busy scanning the crowd, himself also curious to get a view of the candidates.

The imposing crowd posed little more than a tightly packed sea of anxiety and frustration, as the quickest way to Reina’s Brothel was through Central Square, but before he knew it, Olex had been swept into the dense mass of wannabe pundits and outspoken radicals. Extremities made of tungsten and superalloys made shouldering your way through a crowd much easier, as most people would rather clear the way rather than get a hard elbow in the side. That being said, the sore spot in Olex’s torso still thudded in dull pain with every stray bump.

A potent mixture of dread, solar heat, and the stuffiness of a large and densely packed crowd made whatever skin Olex still had began to sweat, soaking into his clothing and making for a thoroughly uncomfortable walk through the crowd. Even though his better senses told him he probably had little to worry about, he couldn’t help but give everyone he passed a hard look up and down. Just like he had in the streets before he was ambushed, he scanned for gleaming arms and legs, or large elaborate emblems, anything that would signal an approaching danger. The voice in one side of his head told him that the people who hunted them knew better than to make anything so obvious, but the opposing voice insisted that no chances be taken. Half measures led to full failures, no one knew that better than Olex. So, he continued to survey everything he could, even gazing up at the rooftops from time to time.

The sea of people finally split, Olex finally found the perfect spot to take a rest. Right next to a rusty and dilapidated food cart still in use, was a small plastic lawn chair. The small blue throne sat right in the path of the smoke wafting away from the open grill, and it’s previous owner seemed to have just vacated it to follow their friends away to a different part of the Square. The spot was shady, but it was still crowded, with an overwhelming aura of grease, body odor, and smoke, the trifecta of olfactory heaven. Before another other bum could claim the seat, Olex plopped himself down, forcing his nose into his sleeve in a vain attempt to take a breath without taking in a lung full of the foul smoke that was drifting right by his head.

[color=darkorange][i]Ugh, the food was so much better in Vegas. I mean, Vegas was better than most places, but this place blows at an even higher echelon.[/i][/color]

[center][b][u]---[/u][/b][/center]

Like a crowd of peasants before medieval nobility, the citizens in the square split and made way for the dark black luxury car that slowly coasted as close to the main building in the square as it could, before it’s brakes creaked to a stop. Chewing on his fresh hotdog from the nearby cart, Olex watched as his target slid out of the car, the very first in what would become a line of them, one after the other. Gatch stepped out of his car, casting a glance over the crowd that didn’t land on any of them, as it went right through everyone. With a fraudulent smile, and a tug to straighten his lavish suit, his stare was eventually cast upon the building that was to hold the rest of the candidates once they arrived. The courier’s eyes were glued on Gatch as he sauntered through the rabble, ignoring the various jeers and insults from the crowd, his bodyguards giving their own mean scowls at the audience members that dared to speak up.

Dao Chen arrived next, splitting the crowd with his own presence and the group of subdued monks that clung closely around him. Instead of Chen’s surroundings, Olex’s gaze was focused on the monk’s augments, which looked much more advanced and cutting edge than most that Olex’d ever seen. His arms possessed a luster that rivaled the shiniest limbs amongst the Tinmen that Olex had served with. Stoic and hard to read in the face, with stern and measured movements as he walked through the crowd, it seemed otherworldly. If Gatch represented the iron-fisted corporate presence in the Reclaim, Dao represented one of the city’s most peculiar and enigmatic orders.

Faren followed, but Olex couldn’t keep a good bead on him, on account of his eyes rolling upwards so hard he could almost see the inside of his skull. 

Serena Petrukov, the face of the Pirate Party, was the only remaining candidate that caught his attention, with her confident stride and column of equally confident representatives behind her. Something about their attendance felt illicit, taboo even. You’d never catch people having face to face conversations about their support of the Pirate Party, but to Olex, it felt like almost an underground uprising. Something that no one had to speak about, but everyone felt. At least, that’s what he hoped, inwardly. 

Olex’s eyes followed her as she entered the hotel, with her Party behind her, and after Samsara, it was over. Introductions were over, and it was going to be a bit before the debates actually began. As the crowd began to die down, their appetite sated by trying to get a look at whatever candidate they’d traveled out to the Square for, Olex found himself stuck to his seat. 

Olex paid less attention to the crowd around him, and finally took the time to look over his arms. He realized he hadn’t checked them for damage, and was dismayed to find that the sleeves of his shirt had been shredded. He felt a sting in his stomach, and quickly pulled up his sleeves to find that they had, in fact, gotten scratched in the scuffle. Rolling his eyes and letting back a heaving sign, he began to wipe away some of the shredded fabric from his left arm, revealing deep scratches that revealed a silver luster under his gunmetal black finish. Part of him wanted to cry, even though he knew to get so emotional over such frivolities was foolish.

The damage to his arms had completely gotten his attention, so much so that when a stranger approached him and began speaking, it was almost as if he’d woken up from a deep dream. He reflexively reached for his gun, but upon realizing the person in front of his was not a threat, he tried his best to calm down before anyone got scared.

[color=FFDAB9]"Hello!  I am S'venia, a journalist with the South City Blues.  How's your day going?" [/color]

Olex simply stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded at the sudden question. The most obvious thing of her appearance was the bright blue hair that she put much effort in. Going down, he next noticed the intense orange glow of her eyes, and the set of hexagons along the side of her face. Nothing unique stood out about her clothing, but Olex quickly averted her eyes from her figure, not wanting to give a bad first impression.

S'venia paused her approach as the man reached for something before composing himself.  A weapon?  Perhaps, she thought as she shifted her weight onto her back leg, the reclaim was a place where the ne'er-do-wells of society came together in some despicable mess.  He could have enemies. She did, and so did ninety percent of the people packed into this square. She shifted her focus seconds after the man's eyes lowered.  The impeccable metal arms bore numerous gouges, ornate, and stylish as they were.  For a second, she admired the designs, but soon realized they were not perfect.  Her eyes spotted a few gorges that were not alike.  Scratches.  S'venia pondered the sight for a second before she returned her gaze to the man.  A fight was had recently.  For a brief moment, she considered the story itself but dragged herself back to reality as she remembered the nature of her world.  While the sleeves were tattered, so were the people.  She briefly wondered what could do that to metal but paused.  

As the man returned his gaze upward, so too did S'venia return hers.

[color=darkorange]”Uh, it’s certainly been quite the day so far, how about yourself?”[/color]

[color=FFDAB9]"Quite the day indeed,"[/color] S'venia paused as she flashed another trademark smile.  [color=FFDAB9]"I've been recording the candidates and their supporters all day and needless to say it's been,"[/color]  she paused as she lowered her head, shaking it as she did.  [color=FFDAB9]"Needless to say, it's been an adventure."[/color]  She paused as she raised her focus back to the man in front of her.  [color=FFDAB9]"Come now, Enigma,"[/color] she paused as she pointed towards her drone, [color=FFDAB9]"care for an interview?"[/color]  She paused as she smiled once more as she spread her arms out wide.  [color=FFDAB9]"Promise, easy questions."[/color]

Olex had been locked in eye contact, barely registering what the woman in front of him was saying, until she pointed up towards something. He broke his stare, eyes darting up to catch a glimpse of a small hovering drone, camera pointed clearly at him. His brow furrowed, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

[color=darkorange]”Uh, are you broadcasting on the news or something?”[/color] He followed his words with a chuckle and contorted his face in the most haphazardly normal smirk he could muster, regretting ever deciding to sit down and take a lunch break.

[color=FFDAB9]"We're not live if that's what your asking,"[/color] she paused as a notification signaled its existence with a beep.  [color=FFDAB9]"One second,"[/color] S'venia responded as she pulled out her device.  It was a text from Del.  She hadn't spoken to her in a few days, so she figured she was reaching out to say hey.  When she read the message, her eyes shot open for a few seconds before they squinted, and she brought her device close to her face.  

[color=008000]>>>[/color] [color=#035096]"ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠. 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕞𝕖…”[/color]
[color=008000]>>>[/color] [color=#035096]"𝕀 𝕄 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝟚 𝔻𝕀𝔼…”[/color]
[color=008000]>>>[/color] [color=#035096]“ℙ𝕝𝕫 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕞𝟛 𝕒 𝕨𝟙𝕝𝕝…”[/color]
[color=008000]>>>...[/color]

On the one hand, S'venia believed the text to be accurate.  Her breathing became more rapid, her pupils dilated and her hand started a quick but noticeable shake.  On the other hand, S'venia remembered who she was speaking to, and her flair for the dramatic.  Her breathing shallowed, and her hand lost its shake.  S'venia pondered her next course of action before she responded.

[color=008000]>>>[/color] [color=#9400D3]"ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠 𝕞𝕖,”[/color]
[color=008000]>>>[/color] [color=#9400D3]"𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕠𝕜𝕒𝕪?”[/color]
[color=008000]>>>[/color] [color=#9400D3]“𝕆𝕣 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕀 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕖-𝕗𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦? 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕣 𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖?”[/color]
[color=008000]>>>...[/color]

S'venia pondered the message before she sent it back.  If she were dying, then S'venia wouldn't have gotten the message.  On the one hand, Delilah liked to run rough and maybe in trouble.  On the other, she was still Delilah.  [color=FFDAB9]"Sorry,"[/color] she finally returned her focus to the man, [color=FFDAB9]"a friend may be in trouble,"[/color] she paused as she lowered her glasses back down from her forehead, [color=FFDAB9]"raincheck on the interview?"[/color] 

Olex’s smirk had slowly faded as the woman in front of him seemed to be distracted and she broke her gaze from him. Of course, the rush of adrenaline that had sent a shock through his stomach had subsided, but he still felt unease. The small camera drone was still pointed at him. He was still surrounded by a large and difficult to read crowd. There were at least two unsavory characters in the Reclaim that he didn’t really want to run across again. 

[color=darkorange]”Uh, sure, yeah! I’ll do that interview later! One hundred percent. I hope your friend is alright, I have to get going now.”[/color] Through a smile, Olex made his best attempt to end the conversation and began standing up from the bench, ready to start the speediest fast walk of his life away from the strange woman.

S'venia waved as the enigma walked at a sprinters pace to get away from the area.  This enigma only further piqued her curiosity.  He looked uncomfortable before, but his desire to get away confirmed a suspicion.  He had a story to tell and one that he did not want to share.  He did not want to be seen.  As he filtered into the crowd, S'venia flashed another smile.  [color=FFDAB9]"Be seeing you, Enigma."[/color]

[color=FFDAB9]"Join the party,"[/color] S'venia spoke, and her drone listened. Her drone rose at a rapid pace joining the chorus of drones above the square. [color=FFDAB9]"Track gait,"[/color] she paused, [color=FFDAB9]"keep tracking until he walks normal and track gait again."[/color] She would need to find him again, and her drone would be a most useful tool for that.