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Snippet #2760840

located in New Telluride, a part of Et Partitus, one of the many universes on RPG.

New Telluride

"When we begin to build walls of prejudice, hatred, pride, and self-indulgence around ourselves, we are more surely imprisoned than any prisoner behind concrete walls and iron bars."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zonia Jessup Character Portrait: Randa Dominga
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Randa nodded. With Zonias presence, it almost felt like a normal morning again as she walked over to wash her hands. "Okay." he said, looking over to her as he let a small smile curl across his lips. He had always loved Zonia's little shop, but never had the time to pop in and say hi. This would be the perfect excuse to take a day to do so. Randa stole a glance over to her as she cleaned her face, before she spoke.

"You know, i've been thinking about what you said..I think it's time we start something. Show those SWATS we aren't taking their crap anymore." Randa grinned as he looked over to her, letting her finish. It faded as she got down to the seriousness of the issue. He was glad she shared his passion.

Randa gave a solemn nod as she told him of her plans, taking the bandages and wrapping up his hand. He ached, but it was time. He headed over to the factory, with a visible limp still, hand bandaged, and right eye swolen. Even through the pain though, he held himself back straight, with dignity. Blending in with the crowd of unemployeds and derelicts, he went his own pace, but made sureto be as nonchalant as possible.

He passed a SWAT that didn't give him a second glance. Phew. But as he continued to limp along, he noticed the alley they had been in, completely quarantined, and heavily guarded. The coroners and CSID was there. His heart skipped a beat as he picked up the pace, still not picked up. They must not have a physical description, which was good. But it was only a matter of time before something got figured out.

He did his best not to think about it, and hobbled towards his work. At the front office, it was uneventful as Randa signed himself out, for the mandatory two strikes. He had never been late, never taken a day off, never sneezed on the job, and he still got two strikes. That was just policy however, as Dims were always *always* underemployed. Hobbling away, he made his way to Zonia's shop, beating her there. Leaning against the wall, he lit up a cigarette, and waited for her to arrive.