Class 2

Rain. That’s what greeted Colby when he peered between the window blinds, lots of rain. Sheets of the stuff just poured down, and he had to get to work. With a groan and a rub of his forehead, he turned to start what would surely prove to be a very long day. His studio apartment wasn’t very large, so at least the getting ready part wouldn’t take long. The futon was folded up and set in place, making it a sofa once more. Clothes were set in the hamper to be washed later. A quick semi-warm shower was taken and finished before the water turned ice cold. Then after a quick dry, Colby slipped on a pair of worn jeans and a solid red shirt. His apron would be at the diner, and no one cared what one wore underneath it, as long as they wore something. It was a simple routine, right up to the point of grabbing his keys to leave.

One hand on the doorknob, Colby paused as he listened to the rain still pouring down buckets. He couldn't afford a car, and he hadn't thought to buy an umbrella yet. Chances of getting to work without looking every bit the part of a drowned rat were pretty nil. Ideas went through his head, blue eyes searching his meager furnishings in the hope of something sticking out. Just somet.. yes! That would work, more or less. Ten minutes later, he rushed out of his apartment, down the stairs and out the building’s front door.

The diner wasn’t too far from his apartment, but even a couple of blocks in the steady downpour would soak anyone to the bone, whether or not they ran. Colby chose not to run for a number of reasons. He wasn’t the most coordinated person on two feet, he could play a mean ass piano, but couldn’t dance to save his life. Aside from having two left feet, the heavy duty black garbage bag he wore over his clothing didn’t really allow for the simple action of running. Colby had cut out a hole in the top for his head, and two on the side for his arms. While his head, arms and bottom half of his legs were going to be drenched, he wouldn’t be soaked in between.

It still wasn't a pleasant walk. Colby wiped the water out of his eyes for the umpteenth time when sirens rushed by him in the street. Their speed, combined with the mass puddles along the road, sent a wall of water in their wake. It splashed up on the sidewalk and Colby received it full force. He stumbled back, crashing into the brick wall of the building behind him. Sputtering and spitting with a frustrated groan, he took a moment to just stare incredulously at the no longer visible police cars. When he heard a few more coming, Colby decided to chance running. Dammit!

He sprinted away from the building and dashed around the corner of the block. Steps slowed once the danger of another street tidal wave had passed and it was just another couple of minutes before he walked into the diner, The Broken Tooth. One day he should ask how it got his name, but for the moment he just wanted to dry off before starting his shift at the grill. “Oy!” Colby turned toward the voice just in time to be hit in the face with a towel. “Catch!”

With a short laugh, he headed into the back with a sideways grin as he used the towel on the wet mop his hair had become. “Th-thanks.” Curtis grinned cheekily back, flashing thumbs up before moving to finish up the orders on his shift. Colby weaved his way into the small break room where he shed the water logged garbage bag. It was beyond salvaging, so into the trash can it went. The towel was then used to finish drying his head and what he could manage of his pant legs. It only took a couple of minutes more before Colby figured that was as dry as he was going to get.

Curtis was ready for him to take over. As Colby slipped a fresh apron on over his head and tied it in the back, the other cook was quickly going over what orders were still cooking. “Double bacon cheeseburger, well done with fries for table four. Rib eye, medium well with the usual trimmings, table twelve. And chicken fried steak with onion rings instead of taters for table seven.” Colby nodded, mentally repeating the orders in his head one more time. A solid clap on the shoulder sent him off balance for a moment as Curtis laughed and waved. “Catch you later, man.”

Colby gave a wave back and picked up a spatula. He spared a quick glance through the window that looked out into the main part of the diner. A few more people piled inside, seeking refuge from the downpour. They would wind up being either really slow, or pretty steady due to the rain. With a sigh, he turned to finish up the three orders as another two came through to the grill. Well, no one can say I don't earn my keep.

"STOP!" boomed a voice, projected through a chip implanted in the throats of police officers, bone-shaking in its intensity. Juliette rolled her eyes but stilled in her annoyed eye-rolling when she saw Police Gliders speed toward them, their sirens wailing and casting a blue and red glow over them. Juliette squinted at the lights that caused stars to burst in her vision. With their Lasers trained on Crimson, they edged forward, their fingers on the touch-trigger. "You are under ar-" a man began. Juliette wasted no time, she twisted one of the many rings on her fingers and a board expanded from the soles of her boots. It looked to be a skateboard but was, rather, a hoverboard. It was one of the few things she'd managed to snatch when she'd ventured to the upper class.

At the sound and appearance of movement, all the Lasers trained on her - the weapon would do a lot more harm than a gun, piercing straight through flesh and bone, faster than a bullet. Light travelled much, much faster. She raised her arms, shrugged and with a jerk of her knees, lifted herself into the skies. Two laser beams whizzed dangerously close to her limbs as she dashed away. Lifting her gun in the air, she fired rapidly, drawing attention away from her gang. Wasn't she the selfless Samaritan? Gliders dashed through the air, close behind her as the police fired away. She, surprisingly, remained unharmed, zig-zagging and spinning her board in random directions as she flew forward. Juliette laughed, a carefree, rare sound - this was the way she wished to go - annoying the crap out of les démons in her final moments.

"You are violating Sections 9, 16, 202, 73, 99, 5, 122, 452 and 87 of the Trinity-" the voice shouted before yelping as Juliette's bullet whizzed dangerously close to the top of his head. "You have a right to remain s-" he began again. God, these people didn't know how to Shut. Up.

Her hoveboard made a deafening screech as it scratched against a roof, causing a firework of sparks to whizz in the air. Juliette's sun-streaked hair whipped across her face as she once again, took flight. Jerking her knee, she turned her hoverboard around abruptly, ducking into a narrow alleyway. Behind her, policemen and women cursed, swivelling their bulky Gliders around to chase after the young woman. Juliette's hoverboard was much more agile than the large, car-like things the police and class two's and three's insisted on driving. Juliette was incredibly lucky that most of Class three had magnets implanted into the ground, although all of Class two and one did, whereas the keyword in Class three's case was most. Most. Hoveboards worked by having it's own magnetic field. The two similar forces opposed one another and allowed the board to hover but not all grounds in Class three were embedded with magnets.

Juliette fell. There was no sound, no sudden jerk - just the plummeting of her hoverboard. One moment she was airborne, and the next she was not. Her head smacked against cold, cracked cement, the breath knocked brutally out of her. She blinked the darkness from her vision and breathe, but no air entered her lungs. The sirens were growing near - suddenly, she could breathe. Gasping, Juliette grasped desperately for air as she slowly turned her body and crouched over the ground. Her spine hurt. Scrambling to a stand, she twisted her ring and the board disappeared from under her. Juliette ran, her boots slapping against pavements as she very literally, ran for her life. None of the dirt-clad citizens of class three aided her, instead cowering away and refusing to meet her gaze. In a place like Class three, it was every man and woman for themselves.

Juliette had to get out of the crowded areas to prevent an innocent from being hurt in the process. She tripped over a kink in the pavement and stumbled, before pulling herself upright. A road made itself known ahead of her - the road to Class Two. Twisting her ring, her board appeared beneath her once again. This road would be embedded in magnets and it appeared to be empty - it was her only choice. Hovering in the air, she pushed herself forward, whizzing through the air so fast, she was but a blur. Sirens wailed loudly, close at her tail as they sped toward her.

After what felt to be an eternity, the tall, glass walls of Class two appeared - and so did their watchmen. It rained light - terrible, terrible laser-light. Juliette ducked, dodging the lasers by purely guessing where they might fire. A sudden idea came to her and she shoved her boot against the edge of her board, causing it to overturn. Juliette hung upside-down, the lasers bouncing harmlessly off of her hoverboard. When she reached the top of the glass wall where the watchmen were stationed, she flipped herself around using her abdominal muscles and slapped her board in a watchman's face, kicking him backwards and jerking his laser from his hands into her own. She fired at the watchmen, watching as one after another, Laser Guns dropped onto the ground far, far below.

She forced her panting to still and breathed slowly, shutting one eye as she aimed for the windshields of the Gliders. But before she could do anything more, a laser tore itself through the side of her torso. She gasped, doubling over as it burned straight through her skin, muscles, organs and bones, through to the other side. Juliette sucked in a sharp breath, the pain like that of being burned alive from the inside. She hovered above a public area of Class two - the city square? - as another laser beam ripped through her thigh. Juliette stifled a scream, her balance on her hoverboard slipping as the Stick-On function chugged into non-existence. Her hoverboard, her baby, was great while it lasted. Juliette wobbled on her board, the laser in her thigh having severed God knew how many muscles. Juliette dropped to one knee on her board - and fell.

Screams erupted as she crashed through air and fell into what appeared to be a blissfully, thankfully, deep water fountain. Her body broke the surface of the clear water and sunk further down into deep darkness. Juliette felt as if she was drowning, her blood trickling upwards like artistic ink poured into the ocean.

Dimly, she wondered why on Trinity would anyone need such a bloody deep fountain.

What a waste of water.

Johan quickly found himself at his sisters head quarters. His driver was to say the least crafty when it came to the routes he took. The man seemed to know the in's and outs of the cities like the back of his hand. Choosing to take the stairs to the 40th floor instead of using the hyper lift was something he did on a daily basis. Finding excuses to exercise was regular routine for the man who technically could live the rest of his life in a bed if he so chose. Finding his way to his sister's office he waved lightly at the pretty secretary sitting outside the door and walked in. The girl behind the desk knew Johan well enough as he was the brother of her boss, but also because when his sister was busy and he had to wait for her he would spend the time to chit chat with her. Finding out how things are going in life and so on. His 'bed side manner' seemed to go a lot further than simply making people feel good about being sick. He loved to find things out about people and that tended to endear him to the female populous. Always listening to gossip but never spreading it.

Finding his sister in the corner of her office where she normally was, working on her latest creation. It brought to mind a simple curious thought. Why does she even have a desk? She never uses it. Yet there it was a big fancy artful clear desk complete with stylish chair. He had honestly only seen her sit at the desk maybe twice. She would often roll the chair over to her work space and use it when she was doing something lower on the outfit, but the desk rarely saw love. With that in mind he walked over to it and decided to plant himself gently on the surface of it. One more time and I will have used it more than her. The thought brought a smile to his face as he waited patiently.

It was only a few moments until she turned around with a smile "Over here!.. come on now try it on." He quickly pulled his cloths off only to pull on the new set, they looked similar with a few stylish changes. She had even included a cloak to this one, knowing he favors them. "And look look!" She grabbed his wrist and pulled the sleeve down to the top of his bracers, the edge of the sleeve magnetically sticks to the bracer to keep it in place and make it look like the bracer is part of the outfit. He smiles at her and nods his approval "Very cool." When it was all said and done it looked like a simple long sleeve shirt styled to match his bracers with a cloak and pants to match. The pants carrying a bit of a tribal design that flowed from the bottom to the shirt and up through the arms finally connecting to the bracers and adding to the crest already held on them. The cloak held his crest as well with a spinning tribal design all around it. The shoulders held the red feather that symbolized his sisters work. "I love i.." Just then his phone started to go off again (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oENrgffA5VI) He smirked again at the song as he got a disapproving but amused look from his sister.

She shook her head but had to turn to hide her smile as Johan brought the phone to his ear "Hello......What is the extent of the damage?" His face suddenly got serious nodding to himself as the voice on the other end of the phone spoke to him "I see... Tell your medic to give her 10 cc's of multiphasic paralytic and stick her in the stasis chamber until I get there. Try to get her medical records as well if you can... I understand she is a 3rd class but try anyway, she should have the same treatment as a 2nd or 1st for that matter." The person on the other end of the line seemed to be arguing with him but he simply hung up the phone. "I gotta go sis, sorry. Thanks for the new cloths they are perfect." He kisses her on the cheek before quickly turning and heading for the door, forgetting his old clothes where he left them. He did have enough presence of mind to take his things from one set to another however so all his belongings where still on him. This time he took the hyper lift, no matter how fast he ran the lift would still be faster and speed was of the essence. A Stasis chamber would slow down the woman's injuries but they wouldn't stop them.

Getting into the car in a hurry Greg already had it running and quickly pulled out and headed for the 2nd class security checkpoint. "So where we headed sir?" Greg didn't know what was going on but he did know this, the only time Johan was in a rush was when someone was in trouble. That someone was usually in second. Johan doesn't even look up as he dials his phone "Police station in second, they have an injured woman there." Greg just nodded as Johan made his call. This was buisness time and they where both being very serious. Greg was weaving through cars like he was knitting a sweater while Johan called the gate ahead of them to let them know the situation. He got the go ahead just before they reached the check point and Greg ran through it without even stopping. Johan hanging out a window to wave at the guards. The men on the check point had let him through like this before, but only when someone's life was in danger. He would make it to the police station in a matter of minutes at this rate.

Getting to the station he makes his way straight to their infirmary. Without so much as a how's it going he starts barking orders "Get her out and on the table, prep 10 more cc's of the multiphasic paralytic and get me the tissue regenerater." This was a different man than the full of fun and laughs Johan that was in Robin's office. Johan quickly went to work on the girl, first cutting her shirt so all that was left of it was a strip across her breasts. This gave him complete access to the wounds without revealing her. Pulling out his tools he went to work on the large laser wound first, knowing it would kill her well before the less lethal bullet wound to the shoulder. It was about that time that she would begin to regain consciousness. She was still very effectively chemically paralyzed from the neck down and if that wasn't enough she was strapped down just in case she had a spasm of some sort.. He quickly turns to notice all the police in the room and the men eyeing the girl on the table. "Get out." His voice was harsh and commanding and in this room was law, they where well aware that when he helped them it was his ER and they had no say about what happened in the room. He even dismissed the attending medic, knowing they would be prejudicial to the woman. The fact was he had the skill to take care of this alone and figured she wouldn't want to wake up surrounded by class two police. The entire time his hands don't stop moving, the woman wouldn't be able to see or feel his hands, in fact she would just barely be able to see his face. Once everyone is out he says idly through his mask without losing his focus on what he is doing. "Good morning"

Johan was hard to read in this situation, mostly just because he was focusing on his work. Mending the interior of the body took a picture perfect understanding of exactly how it should be along with an artistic understanding of how each person was different. Recreating something that you have never actually seen with your own eyes could be difficult. For Johan however it was just another day at the office. The small handheld tissue regenerater filled his palm as he went to work rebuilding her insides. A handy little device his grandfather had created and marketed only to later be improved upon by his grandson. The patent for which brought in a hefty sum of money for Johan, this wasn't what was on his mind, no 80% of his mind was on the girls recovery while the other 20% was on the conversation at hand. From the way he talked however it sounded like twenty percent was all he needed to hold a conversation "The fabric removed was only to keep the hole in your stomach and shoulder from killing you. I tried to leave as much as possible. Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. Promise I will only keep my eyes on your wounds." He gave a gentle smile which bore with it the kind generous honesty that came with everything this man tended to do. Though knowing his luck the class 3 girl would see it as him trying to pry some favor from her, unfortunately the people in class three where notoriously suspicious of his kind. Johan couldn't blame them though, they led a rough life down there and it only got worse if someone took something from you.

After a pause while he worked he responds to the second half of her statement, a light chuckle preceding "My name is Johan Ferin. You may call me any nickname you want though as long at I know its me." He smiles again at her, not seeming nervous about the procedure at all. He liked his patients to make up nicknames for him, it made things more personal when they where dealing with him. So they felt like he was a friend rather than just a doctor, it helped when he was explaining things to them they needed to know as well as when getting them to do what they needed to to become healthy. He let the memory part slide, knowing full well talking about a medical fact in this situation would simply let the sarcastic girl add wood too her fire.

He works silently for a time until she speaks again about the drug. This pulls a minor laugh out of him "I get it from my own pharmaceutical company." He turns to look at her now, his eyes brown at first but slowly shifting toward blue "And no, I don't." He looked her in the eye the whole time until his eyes returned to his work, never once looking down at her exposed flesh. Not even a flick as he returned to the area he was working on. He did promise afterall. A few more moments passed until she spoke again, the only response being "Your wound is dangerously close to your spine, the bindings are there to keep you from further hurting yourself..." He pauses a moment before saying "But, now that I am done with that." He presses a button on the table and the binds come off "That should be a bit more comfortable. Now for the wound in your shoulder." Her body was still paralyzed so there was no danger of her attacking or running while he fixed her up. The only reason he had her tied down was so she didn't spasm, since the danger was gone he had no reason to have her tied down anymore. He rolls his stool up toward her head, stopping just below her shoulder.

With one hand he pulls out a small pair of pliers and starts fishing for the bullet. Luckily the numbing agent made it so it slightly tingled but that was it, no pain at all. One of the machines beep suddenly and he look over at it. With his free hand he reaches up and hits a few buttons and one of the tubes hooked to your arm starts to pump blood into your system. "Looks like you where getting a bit low, this should pep you right back up." He had already tested her blood type and had some ready to go just in case. Right about the time she mentioned rape he managed to get a hold of the bullet, He wiggles it a little to get it loose then pulls it out almost gracefully, not causing any extra damage while pulling it out. Dropping it in a metal bowl he goes to work with his regenerater again. "I'm afraid you have misunderstood a medical procedure...." The doctor was talking but then something odd happened, personality came through "Besides, Taking isn't exactly my style." He smirks at the statement, trying to poke a little fun at her paranoia while he finishes up his work. By the time he was done there wasn't a mark on her, no visible sign of previous injury except to those with high medical training. Her skin was once again perfect. Both at the bullet hole and the hole that was once at her stomach.

Just then a knock came at the door and someone called through telling him an old detective friend of his had arrived and was waiting for him to finish. He began cleaning up his gear, sanitizing this and organizing that. Being organized was one of the things that made him so fast at his work. He never had to look for tools, he already knew where they were. When she asked about class one he pauses a moment. Thinking about it for a bit he realized she probably hadn't heard much music in her time. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small device, wrapped around it are some headphones. He slides it into her side pocket before saying "Here, there is plenty of music on here... all kinds actually. I'm sure it will do you a lot more good than it will me." It was a simple music storage and playing device. It held hundreds of songs on it of all genre. In his mind someone in class three had much more use for the healing power of music than he did. Not to mention much less access.

Then she spoke her disdain for him. He pauses in his ritual cleaning at this, turning toward her still holding that same kind smile. At that moment he made a guess and hoped it was right. "J'étais né "classe une". Je n'étais pas né supérieure. A ce jour je ne suis pas supérieure. Ce que je sais, je sais grâce au travail acharné et à la détermination. Rappelez-vous que avant de vous jugez-moi là où je suis né." ("I was born Class one. I was not born Superior. To this day I am not superior. I know what I know through hard work and determination. Remember that before you judge me for where I was born.") He looks at her seriously for a moment to let the thought sink in before continuing in English "Your paralysis will wear off in three to five minutes depending on your drug tolerance. Don't take any heavy impacts to the previously wounded areas for 12 hours, after that the tissue will be fully binded and you should feel normal. If you have any more medical issues that you can't afford simply call me.. My number is in the music device. I will do what I can. And for what it's worth I hope you have better luck in the future." As he spoke the last part he was putting what looked like a light blue button-up shirt under you, threading your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up so you would be completely covered and wearing it normally when the others came in. From the looks of it it was a personal shirt of his. Fine soft fabric, detailed embroidery, it even smelled lightly of his cologne.. It would match his outfit if it was the right color. With that he turns to walk out of the room.

(Note the effected areas will be sore until the fully bind. So for the next 12 hours it will feel like you have a heavy bruise in both spots.)

As Johan exited the infirmary he was instantly told about the girl who had apparently OD'ed. He walks calmly toward the lobby where the girl was. It was his experience that when a doctor seemed panicked everyone panicked and mass panic was never a good thing. Without even approaching the girl holding the needle he looks to a near by officer and says "Get this girl a suite, she will need to sleep it off." Despite Mac's acting job he could easily tell she was not over dosed. He had seen many over dose patients before, forming coherent sentences was rare. The words he used may have seemed odd but they where common code for a cell where someone potentially dangerous could sleep off whatever they where on. Crack addicts and meth head tended to have a violent side. On top of his experience he could plainly see the multiple marks on the girls arm known as track marks. Judging from the amount of scarring she was a lifetime user. That one tiny little hole where the blood was still lightly coming out would likely only be enough to get her high, not risk her life. By his estimation it would have taken multiple syringes full to actually risk anything.

He had seen this multiple times before, a drug addict 'seeks medical aid' in an attempt to get medical grade pain killers. The signs where clear to anyone with enough experience. Having helped people in the second and third for so long he had learned to see the signs. He couldn't dose her with anything because that was what she was looking for, a fix. The con had only ever worked on him once, after that he noticed it right away. As a group of officers went to pick the girl up off the ground and escort her to a jail cell for a night or two, Johan moved over to Adrian. He waves a greeting "You look.... clean." he said as a half joke to the man, meaning both physically and chemically. His eyes wandering up and down the man to further enhance his words. Johan had always been careful with his words around Adrian, tip toeing around subjects expertly so as to not give away Adrian's habits. "I hope you guys aren't too hard on that girl I just patched up." His genuine concern for her coming out. Adrian would know Johan is a bit of a softy whenever anyone was in danger of being hurt and the police force wasn't known for being nice to criminals from the third.

As he waited for a response his left hand went up to his right bracer, he seemed to grab hold of it and massage the arm a bit. Most would think he was scratching an itch brought on from wearing the bulky leather arm guards. No one but those in his family truly knew why he wore the eye sores. Though his sister did a fantastic job of making them look stylish, he refused to take them off. Most thought they had some sentimental value, a few rumored that he was constantly on mind increasing drugs and the bracers where giving it to him constantly throughout the day. Many rumors flowed about the odd accessory, but none had any real substance. Not even Adrian's detective skills could deduce their purpose, causing most people to just chalk it up to a rich man's eccentricity.

“Hello, Ma’am."

Juliette scowled, giving the man before her the full pleasure of her Trinity-shattering glare. She struggled to keep her head upright rather that rolling over her shoulder and dropping to her chest. Her body felt like jelly; les démons might as well have taken a spoon, dug it into her flesh and eaten her. She doubted that would hurt more than these dreadful millions of knives shredding her insides and bursting against her skin. Her body was too small to contain all the pain.

“I hear you’ve had an eventful day. Mind telling me about it?” the detective asked calmly, holding himself with so much ease in the torture chamber. She wanted to scratch his eyes out and rip his vocal cords from his throat with her teeth. She hated him; hated him as she did everyone else in this terrible Hell-hole of a world. The dark haired man before her lit a cigarette in his mouth and held one out to her. Juliette's eyes sparked, bursting with barely controlled fury as she fought to keep herself from decapitating him. She'd have failed, anyway. Was this man mocking her? If he truly was from Class Three, you'd think- No, she didn't think that. It did not matter whether they belonged to the same district or otherwise. Other was other and the fittest survived. At that moment, he was the fitter of the two - and she despised him for it.

Juliette lifted her full lips into a grin. "In case you haven't noticed," she began, wiggling her numb fingers. The metal cuffs that attached her to the chair dug forcefully into her wrists, an angry red welt bursting from beneath the cold metal. "My hands are tied, figuratively and literally speaking. Unless you're willing to place it in my mouth and help me suck on it?" she mocked, fighting the growl that begged to be set free. This detective was not worth an ounce of her anger. Juliette breathed in the comforting scent of tobacco - her one and only trusted companion. Well, that and every other drug and alcohol in the world. Those were the only things you could trust. They'd stood by her through the weight of the sickening, heavy bodies, and the days and nights of agony and humiliation.

"mon cher détective," my dearest detective, she purred. "The sharing of one's day is generally a pastime reserved for those who are friends or family, is it not? I'm afraid - last time I checked - we were neither friends nor family."

"Answer his questions," the speaker-voice warned. Juliette exaggerated the rolling of her eyes as she stared pointedly at the camera.

"Patience is a virtue, enfant," she said, quite certain that the woman on the other side did not speak French and would not know Juliette had just called her a child. Pulling her green eyes back down to the detective before her, she wiggled about, as if making herself comfortable. "Now all we need is dirt, the dying, disease, filth, drugs and prostitutes to make it feel like home. Ah, wait - I believe we have the last." Juliette tugged at her expression, forming a lazy smirk as she batted her thick eyelashes at the man before her. "I don't suppose you'd be swayed by what I can give you?"

"This is your last warni-"

"Such impatience," Juliette tsked. Turning her attention back to the man before her, analysing every inch of him before staring into his eyes. She did not recognise him but that was no surprise - so many people died each day in Class Three that she no longer kept track of who existed. "The police chased me, I ended up in Class two. I was shot - thrice? - and fell off my hoverboard. Then, I ended up in this lovely hotel," she said simply, gesturing around the room with a tilt of her head. "The creepy doctor patched me up-" Juliette looked down at her unmarred body. "I think. Maybe he implanted a bomb in me. So, I ended up here. I was electrocuted about a dozen names - same old, same old. What about you, detective? How was your day? Good, I hope?"

Juliette had leaned forward against the cuffs that held her in place, but now she leaned back and gave the detective a slow smile. "What's a handsome man like you dealing with les démons? Unless you have a secret love for sadism?" Juliette turned her head, so she looked through the glass wall and into the world outside, even though she couldn't actually see through the tinted glass. Still, it was unnerving when she looked the woman who'd been talking through the speakers right in the eyes. "Lucky for you, I happen to appreciate sadomasochism."

"Good," the voice said firmly before the woman clicked her magical button and sent Hell through Juliette's body. Juliette laughed, tilting her head back against the metal chair.

"You can break me down if it makes you feel right," she began singing. Despite the slight manic tone to it, she had a heartbreaking, breathtaking voice. "And hate me now if it keeps you alright. You can break me down if it takes all your might 'cause I'm so much more than meets the eye." Juliette's voice was rather breathless, yet feminine and honey-sweet. If she'd not been strapped to a chair with a grin on her face that said she knew something you didn't, one might've thought she was a singer on a stage. But she wasn't - she looked to be a broken doll pieced together to form an abstract piece of art. Perhaps that was what living in Class Three did to you; what being raped as a helpless child did; what being electrocuted a dozen times did. It made you mad and yet, more real that anyone or anything else in existence. It made the world crystal clear and perhaps too much so, until all you could see were the solidified demons that lived in the light, shadows and dark.

"Any more questions?" she asked abruptly, tilting her head to the side in an eerie, doll-like way. She watched the detective with her keen eyes of emerald green.

Morgan awoke a little later than normal, and rolled over in bed, moving her hair out of her face and glanced out the window, disappointed to see the sun wasn't out; part of the reason she hadn't woken up at a decent time. Instead, it was rain, and it wasn't sprinkling or anything, it was coming down hard. Pushing the blanket off her she got up and shivered once her bare feet touched the cold floor. Ignoring it, she grabbed a towel and a change of clothes before going into the bathroom. She started the water in the shower, removing her clothes and putting them into the basket kept in the small closet and stepped under the warm water, trying to slowly wake herself up. She had been up most of the night out and about with her friends, and she hadn't caught much sleep lately to begin with. Cleaning herself up, she shut the water off and wrapped a towel around her body, stepping out into the cold air of the bathroom. She dried off and got dressed in skinny jeans and black boots with a long sleeve shirt. Brushing her teeth then combing out the tangles in her hair, she hung the towel up and walked out and downstairs. It was usually quiet in the daytime due to her dad usually being at work, Chelsie always staying with her friends, and her mom always sleeping from the night shifts.

Walking into the kitchen, she wasn't surprised to see her dad at the kitchen table eating a small breakfast. The amusement parks were most likely closed, and those were usually the only days he willingly took off. "Morning, dad." She smiled warmly at him when he looked up. Moving over to the fridge, she opened it, looking for anything she could make a decent breakfast with, but they didn't even have eggs. Or fruit. Well.. how did my dad make his breakfast? Did he leave the food laying out? Looking over at the counter and the island in the middle of the kitchen, it was clean. "Dad, did you use the last bit of food we had to make yourself breakfast?" She decided to ask, glancing back over at him as she shut the fridge.

"It's almost noon, Morgan. But good morning." Her dad chuckled, taking a bite out of his eggs. "And no, actually. Your mother said she would grocery shop when the rain let up," he smiled, "Which means more or less when she decides to wake up, I'm sure you know." Morgan sighed, laying her head onto the counter, rubbing her stomach. "I got this food from a diner one of the coworkers stopped by at. Going out would be your best bet if you want food, dear."

"It's raining out though.. which means it's cold out." She said, but got up anyway to go to the hall closet and pull out a hoodie, and searching for the umbrella. She glanced up, opening her mouth to ask where it was but her dad was already a thought ahead of her.

"Chelsie took the umbrella last night so she could use it to get back home." Morgan gave a blank stare and looked out behind her dad at the window, seeing the rain coming down hard. Food... or dryness?... What am I thinking? This is a no brainer, I'm starving.

"Alright dad, I'll see you later. I may just stay in the diner and wait for a time when the rain lessens up, or stops. Whichever comes first. Love you." She said walking to the front door and opening it, stepping underneath the overhang of her porch and shutting the door firmly behind her. "You've gotta be kidding me..." She muttered, looking at the large puddles of water all over the sidewalks, and in the street. She should've held off on that shower. Taking a deep breath and pulling the hood up over her hair, she decided that she would run for it.

Bolting down the stairs, she jogged at a steady pace, water splashing up her already soaked jeans, the rain pelting down on her whole body the second she came off the porch. She silently cursed herself for doing this, but it was all for the sake of fulfilling her appetite. Not a soul was out today, except for a few people driving to get to jobs that were inside warm and cozy buildings, not in this dreadful rain.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to find which direction she was going anymore. The rain was making visibility a problem. Slowing down to a walk, she turned at the corner of a unfamiliar street. How do I not know where I am.. She kept going, looking left and right for some kind of sign that she was near some kind of diner or restaurant. Anything. She nearly jumped out of surprise when some people cut in front of her and cross the street under a umbrella, and she stood there watching them walk into a diner. The Broken Tooth? Alright, looks dry.. I'll take that. She ran over quickly, forgetting to look both sides, but she had her eye on getting inside as fast as possible. She opened the door and walked in, immediately feeling the heaviness of her hoodie and how her clothes were sticking to her skin. In embarrassment, she pulled back her hood, and slowly walked over to the counter, trying to not draw attention to herself, taking a seat quietly and enjoying the smell of food being made.

No idea why it double posted..... Sorry?

As the doctor looked at her, Mac sadly realized that he was too experienced to believe she was OD. She bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at the room he just came from. She could just barely hear the buzzing of electricity. Oh, great, they're torturing her. Beat me to it. Alexander is going to be pissed if I don't get to her gang. She thought, hopelessly. All of a sudden, she felt two cops start pulling her into a place where she could sleep off the drugs. "Shit," she said aloud. They led her to a room, but Mac was scanning the police at her sides. She saw they both had keys, tasters, and guns. She took the keys off one of them and slipped the cool metal into her pants. Just as they were pushing her inside, she was able to grab the taser off the other. They locked the door and she looked around. Nothing in there but a bed. She looked at the door and shook her head. There was a lock on the inside. This must have been one of those rooms the cops had to lock themselves in when they were interrogating or something. It wasn't a regular cell. She pulled out the keys and tried the few that were on there. Once she found the right one, she creaked the door open, very slowly. She looked down the hallway and didn't see anyone so she made a break for it, and began running.

She found an emergency exit and slammed the door open. Instantly, sirens and lights went off in the building. She would have been afraid, but the meth was counter-acting that. Her boots slammed through the alley way and somehow she got herself lost. "I don't know how many cops they have, but I bet a lot of them are going to be looking for me," she whispered, all the while her grin still plastered in her sweaty face. She glanced down at her hand to see that she still had the taser. "This should help, but I lost that girl. Oh my God," Amaco said. She shivered and began walking through the back alley ways. They weren't as filthy as the ones in Class 3, where she spent a lot of her time when she wasn't at the head quarters. There were cheap drugs there, and she knew someone who would give her the easy stuff for free. Stuff like oxycodine, and other strong pain killers. She pushed the thoughts from her brain and kept walking, looking for an outlet to the normal street. She peeled off her hood and threw it on the ground. She decided that if she had any hopes of hiding from the cops, she would need to look a little bit different. SHe pulled her hair back in a messy bun and looked down at her pants. There was no changing those, or her boots. She shrugged and broke out into a jog, finally seeing some nicer paved roads in the distance. Suddenly, she heard sirens and a cop car passed by. From the sound of it, it seemed like they had stopped. she hoped at the entrance to another alley. As she neared the corner, she saw that she had hoped correctly. There was a store right in front of her and she ran across the open road and pushed the door open. She picked out a shirt and a long flowy skirt and brought it to the counter.

"Is this all?" the man at the counter asked her, with a rude glance.

"Yeah, how much?" She asked him, searching in her pockets, hoping she had left some money in her pants. When her fingers found the paper, she smiled.

"4o." He said.

"Damn, how much for just the skirt?" Mac said when she realized she didn't have enough.

"20, don't you know how to read?" He asked.

As she handed him the money, she rolled her eyes. "No, I'm from Class 3. I barely know how to count." She lied to him and pulled on the skirt, over her jeans. Because it was loose, it looked fine. She was a bit annoyed, but she would just have to deal with it. She stalked out the door and began to wander around the streets, looking for her bike. There was no way she could stay here any longer. She would have to wait it out a bit, maybe go to Class 3 and search for the Crimsons herself, without the help of this girl, who she didn't even know what she looked like.

((Didn't mean to tag Adrian.))

Johan's phone goes off in regular style when Adrian texts him. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoQYw49saqc) A song that reminded him of the slightly dirty but at heart good cop. With a quick flick he reads the text and calls up to his driver "Looks like we are going to The Broken Tooth Greg." With a simple nod the man turns them toward the restaurant. "You want anything?" Greg shakes his head "No thanks, Victoria packed me a lunch." Johan nodded a bit and laugh "I suppose you would get grilled if it wasn't eaten when you got back huh." He laughs a bit as Greg gives him a knowing smile. It didn't take them long to get there, mostly because of Greg's skill. While Greg drove Johan inserted a pair of ear phones much like the ones he gave Juliette, he had a passion for music and often enjoyed listening whenever he could. Many would even say he had a bit of an obsession with music playing. Pulling up just after Adrian and the girl he takes his time getting out of the car.

Swiftly he enters the restaurant and with a kind smile to the stunned hostess before he points to the two saying "I'm with them." Walking over he steals a chair from another table, sits down backwards and smiles at the two. "Have you ordered yet?" He comments to both of them, treating them as equals. An action that was rather normal when being around Johan. He was a bit of an oddity as far as first class went, you wouldn't catch most of them dead sitting in a chair backwards or being around a girl like Juliette in a public setting for that matter. He takes a moment to look the girl over and smirks "That looks good on you." He comments idly while they wait for their server. The hostess quickly brings him a menu and he starts to look it over. For some odd reason he seems to be in an extremely good mood. Regardless of the girls negative comments before, it doesn't seem to have phased him. The truth was he was used to it from the 3rd class, they hated him for no other reason than for being born in a richer family. The insults seemed to roll off him like the water droplets rolled off his waterproof cloths. It isn't until one of them speak that he realizes his music is still playing "Oh man sorry." He says quickly and quietly so the conversation can continue. Pulling the earphones out, music would be audible from them for a few moments until he pulls out a small device identical to the one he put in Juliette's pocket earlier and presses a button on it to turn it off.

"You know I think that fake OD girl tried to escape if I heard right. I wonder what she thought would happen when she walked into a police station holding a meth needle?" He chuckles a little, targeting the comment at Adrian. They had both seen some people do some stupid things in their days so he would likely find it amusing. It was as if he wasn't uncomfortable or even out of place in this setting. In fact the only thing at this moment that separated him from everyone else in the restaurant was his over priced cloths which seemed to fade away once he started talking. He seemed as happy to be there as anyone who would be meeting their friends at a bar for drinks. He just seemed to want to wind down. He did however get a few long glances from people sitting at other tables, it likely wasn't often someone from first wandered into this place.

Morgan had been glancing down at the menu in front of her since she arrived, and had been working her fingers through her drenched hair at the same time trying to untangle it. She looked around, seeing more people arrive, but none paid any attention to her and that was alright with her. She looked back over at the waiter that just showed up, seeing him smile slightly in her general direction, and she felt herself blush slightly just from the embarrassment of looking the way she was.

When he came her way, she noticed just how nervous he was, and it was hard to hide her smile. She bit on her lower lip gently, trying to not make things hard on him, or think that she was laughing at him. In fact, it was cute. I feel bad, he must not be up front too often. Brushing her hair behind her ear, looking back down at the menu, she wasn't too entirely sure what she had wanted to even get in the first place, she was that hungry.

"If you guys are still serving breakfast.. can I just get some biscuits and gravy with some orange juice? That will be great." Morgan smiled softly up at Colby, but then paused and added, "And if it makes you feel better, you don't have to say much to me, do what makes you feel comfortable, okay?"

Glancing back around at the doorway, she was a little surprised to see a male walk in and casually sit himself with the first two she saw, and even sit in the chair backwards. Everyone else around her was partaking in conversation with others, and enjoying themselves. This place is really laid back, why have I not been here before with my sister or friends? she thought, biting on her bottom lip, turning back in her seat to fold up the menu and wait on her meal quietly.

"That looks good on you." Juliette blushed, dropping her hands onto her lap, then blushing harder because she'd blushed. She threw Adrian a hard glare, as if to say: you didn't tell me this was your rich friend. Her gaze landed on the strange device the doctor held and had just put away - it looked much like the device he'd given her. Sounds seemed to come from it. Why?

"You know I think that fake OD girl tried to escape if I heard right. I wonder what she thought would happen when she walked into a police station holding a meth needle?" Juliette tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, wondering what the girl had been thinking. Did she wish to be arrested? Juliette could not fathom why. Dimly, she noticed the watchful, curious, surprised eyes of patrons as they took in Johan. She supposed it was strange for a Class One to be sitting with two Class Two's. Half of her was annoyed that others were looking at her doctor, the other half was annoyed he was even here.

"May I take your order?" the waitress asked, earning herself an intense staring session with Juliette's forest green eyes. What did the waitress want?

"Excuse me?" Juliette asked.

"Uh... Your order?" the waitress repeated, gesturing towards the menus before them. "Today's set special is pumpkin soup, shrimp linguine and chocolate mud cake. It comes with a free refill of chocolate, vanilla or strawberry milkshake."

Juliette stared at her incredulously, as if the waitress had just sprouted a second head. "Food?" she echoed.

"Yes, umm... Food," the waitress said slowly. "I'll take it that you want our set, then? Watch out for the chocolate cake and milkshake, though. If you eat too much, you'll lose your model figure and get fat," she said before turning her attention to Johan and Adrian, scribbling their orders down furiously before leaving. Fat? Being fat was a luxury Class Three's could only dream of. Juliette looked down at her own body and decided she'd rather like to be fat. How did one go about doing that? Then, she pondered on the word model. She'd heard of those.

"Are models the people who are paid to wear clothes and walk?" she asked. "What a strange job," she mumbled before reaching into the pocket of her jeans. She watched Johan closely as if warning him to not mess with her; her fingers curled around the small device, pulling it from her pocket. Juliette looked at the device closely, shaking it. "It's broken," she told the men before her. Poking and prodding, noise burst forth from the piece of metal. Juliette jumped, dropping the thing onto the table before her. "Zut!" she cursed in French, dropping her body underneath the table. But it wasn't noise. It was... Was it?

Music.

Peeking her eyes from above the table, she slowly pulled herself out from underneath to sit on her bench, staring at the music playing device. "Why does it do that?" she asked Johan, pointing at the small device as if unsure whether to be annoyed or pleased by it. Gingerly, she cupped the small, transparent device in her palms - it was small enough to fit in her palm. Lights painted the clear glass-metal in familiar squiggles - accursed English. Juliette tapped on the device, ready to hurl it through the window should it show any signs of exploding. But it didn't, instead the light changed and so did the music.

français

Juliette tapped on the lights that spelled out the word and suddenly... The device turned French. Juliette gasped, gawking at the magical instrument. It was surely a gift from God himself! Juliette found herself questioning her atheist beliefs and glancing briefly at Johan, she wondered if he was Jesus. Her parents had been staunch Christians but she was never. How could one believe in a higher power that so dearly loved to watch them suffer? But holding music in her hands, she wondered if goodness did exist - and the device spoke French! She'd not seen French since the death of her mother but she remembered it well. A familiar song came on and Juliette squealed, nearly knocking the empty mug of beer from the table as she jumped in her seat.

"ma mère avait l'habitude de chanter cette chanson," she said in French. My mother used to sing this song. Plugging the earphones to her device, she tucked the buds in her ears as she'd seen Johan do. Looking out the window into some far off place in a different time, Juliette sang.

"Everyone is strange
And everyone has a tangled soul,
Everyone has a humming childhood
At the bottom of a forgotten pocket;
Everyone has pieces left of dreams
And corners of destroyed life.
Everyone has sought for something -
But no one has found it,
No one has found it.

Everyone would have to demand for the authorities
To create a law against loneliness,
So that no one will ever be forgotten -
So no one will ever be forgotten.

Everyone has had a life worth living and people worth living for
But not everyone can remember it.
I can see some that fold and break themselves apart,
And I can see some that can't even see it.
I can see some that see nothing.

Everyone should demand for the authorities
To create a law against indifference,
So that no one will ever be forgotten.
And no one will ever be forgotten.

Everyone is strange
And everyone has a tangled soul,
Everyone has a humming childhood,
At the bottom of a forgotten hour.
At the bottom of a forgotten hour..."

Juliette had closed her eyes, allowing the words to flow from her lips in a bittersweet melody. Her eyes snapped open at the abrupt thud of a plate being placed before her. The waitress announced the dishes, setting each on the table. Juliette pulled her chocolate milkshake towards her and stirred as she stared at the liquid. Chocolate was about as hard to come by as heroine and it might as well have been a drug, considering the availability and addictiveness of it. Juliette took a sip of the drink and had to fight the urge to moan. Sweet, heavenly bliss. Despite her absolute ravenous hunger and Class Three upbringing, she held the correct pieces of cutlery in her hands, taking small, dainty bites of her food. Prior to her father gambling away all of his family's money on Earth, the Chateau's had been quite rich. She'd been taught the proper, lady-like way to eat and she abided by it. It required a ridiculous amount of control to prevent herself from gorging on the food and burying herself in it, but she succeeded. Taking a knife and fork, she sliced the shrimp into small pieces. She wished to savour every bite - who knew when she would ever have anything as good as this again? That was, if she even ever ate again.

Realising she'd been rather rude, Juliette pulled the fork from her lips and looked up at Johan and Adrian. "Umm, thank you."

Mac was keeping her head down, and her face casually turned away from the street. She was conjuring up a new plan, and hoping that she wouldn't fail this time. Just as the thoughts were grazing her mind, she saw the doctor in the police station, and I man she recognized but couldn't quite place him. He looked a bit professional, but she decided to shrug it off. The girl with them was quite beautiful, and that made a smile come to Mac's lips. Maybe she could stop to get something to eat. Of course, she had just spent all of her money. Maybe she could just rest a bit.

She walked into the Broken Tooth and sat at a booth a ways away from the doctor, familiar man, and the pretty girl. She mad sure they wouldn't see her face as she walked by and she slipped into a booth. If she leaned out she could see them, and they might see her, if they ere looking. When a waitress came, she simply ordered a water, much to the waitresses' dismay.

"You have to buy something, we'll still charge you for sitting here," she said to Mac.

"Listen, I'm going to get something. I just need a little time. And plus I'm waiting for someone," the girl replied and gave the waitress a sweet smile. The waitress nodded and bustled away, tending to her other tables. As Mac was Idly staring at the menu, she heard someone singing. It was in another language, and she hadn't the slightest clue what it was. The only other language she knew was Japanese, and she hadn't spoken that since she left her parents house. She scowled at the thought of them, then thought of her two little brothers she never met. Maybe she'd drop by their house on her visit in Class 2, see how the folks were doing. She slightly laughed at the idea, then turned attention back to the singing. She peeked around the corner of the booth and saw that it was the girl who was singing. It was pretty, but it also seemed a bit sad to Mac. The girl's food came, and she was shocked out of singing. Mac turned around again and attempted to think of ideas on how to find this girl. Hmm, isn't it strange there was a girl speaking another language with the doctor and a man who looked so familiar? She thought and started drinking her water. She decided she would have to consider that this might be the girl she was looking for.

The waitress came back and interrupted her thoughts. "Are you ready yet, hun?" She asked and pulled out a tablet she would put her order on.

"I'm from Class 3, and I don't know what any of this is," She said and pointed to the menu. Of course, she was lying. She eve been here once or twice. She said it loud enough that the girl might hear, and if there was a reaction, Mac would think that talking to tis girl would be a pretty good start.

"Then why are you here?" the waitress asked again.

"I told you, I'm waiting." Mac concluded. She didn't dare look over her shoulder, for fear the doctor would recognize her. Of course he would.

Colby kept that sideways grin as he tapped out the order on the small tablet. “Sure, ww-wu-we serve bru-b-br-bruh-all items all d-dd-day.” He let out a bit of a breath about the time the girl said he didn’t have to say much. That earned a deeper blush and glance upward. He nodded his head, grateful she seemed to understand his difficulties, then turned to see who else might need to give their order. He was covering about ten tables, but the diner was far from full, so there were customers spread throughout the place.

Holly was also on shift, but she was typically lazy unless it suited her. Others were accustomed to having to tend to her tables more often than not, save for today. Colby bet the larger group probably had Holly thinking she’d get a larger tip that way, so she was pretty on the spot with service. It was good to see her actually working her shift for a change. Colby gave a quiet chuckle under his breath and made sure the others in his station were covered with orders. With the tablets they didn’t have to deliver paper to the cooks in the back. It was all electronic, which he thought was pretty cool. Not as nifty as class one places, but still pretty neat all the same.

Once everyone that had come in to seek refuge from the now apparently non-existent rain had been taken care of, Colby made sure tables were cleaned and setup until his orders were ready. Dave was pretty good on the grill, managing to get out orders fairly quickly. It was to the point where Colby wouldn’t mind a few tips and tricks, but there never seemed to be enough time for lessons. They stayed pretty steady as far as business went, even had happy hours in the evenings.

The tablet buzzed in his hand, indicating one or more of his tables had their order ready. Colby flashed a grin to Dave as he picked up the plates and started passing them out. Morgan’s was among the first wave of deliveries he made since breakfast was usually a quick meal to make. He was just setting it down on the table along with the glass of orange juice when another customer broke into song. That had him chuckling in surprised disbelief as most people turned their heads to see what the commotion was about.

It was a nice voice, probably in a band already. Colby could appreciate the quality of the singing, even if he didn't know the language, just as he appreciated most music. When the song was over, he gave another chuckle and turned his attention back to the customer at his table. “Here you g-gu-go. If you nnneed anything else, let m-mm-mu-me know.” It wasn’t too, too horrible, if he didn’t talk for too long. Maybe he could manage the rest of the day, but Colby would be damn glad to get back behind the grill.

Johan was fascinated by the girls singing, so much so that he seemed to have forgotten the rest of the room existed. For that few brief seconds that she was singing he realized multiple things about her. One she had to have some sort of musical training which was to put it lightly, rare in the 3rd class. Two he suddenly liked that song a lot more. Then finally he was extremely happy to have given the device to such a talented girl. He was now one hundred percent sure she would make good use of it. It wasn't until the waitress stopped by to drop by their order that he snapped out of his train of thought. As she set the massive messy looking burger in front of him the people who where staring before where now dumbfounded. He was after all wearing all white cloths that where made out of fabric the class two's likely only saw in the finest dress' in the finest stores. He even heard a light gasp from a woman in the corner when he picked up the burger haphazardly and took a big uncivilized bite out of the slab of meat covered in bun with bacon, melted cheese and barbecue sauce. After a moment of chewing he lets out a delighted mmmm sound before turning to Adrian "I swear class two makes the best burgers! In first all you can get is these high priced lamb things with no sauce and this flavorless 'healthy' cheese that taste like caulk if they are even slightly over cooked. I swear if these people would just take the extra money they spend on stupid things like that and do something like say buy cans of food for the people in third?! It could change so much. Whoever thought up cheap ground meat, barbecue sauce, bacon and cheese was a culinary genius." He brandished the perfect burger as if to make his point. If it weren't for his statement, his cloths and prior knowledge. One would think he was just another second class citizen enjoying a burger... well I believe 'Noming' might be a better descriptor for what the man was doing as it seemed he preferred the hamburger to breathing for a few moments.

A few moments later he poked his head up looking about for a waiter, finally catching a male waiter's eye he raises a hand to call him over. The massive burger was amazing but the chocolate shake the girl got looked fantastic and both would simply be orgasmic. While he waited for the male to weave through the tables to him he looks at Juliette "You eat like my sister." He chuckles lightly poking fun at the girl while the mental image of his sister eating slowly at the table flooded his head. His brother on the other hand was of a similar mind as Johan, food was meant to be eaten. Not cut into tiny squares, measured, looked at then chewed. They both knew the etiquette and its purpose and followed it when at an expensive important function. Out here however where people didn't need to judge food to eat it, his gloves where off and it was time to eat. Interestingly enough some barbecue sauce did spurt out of the hamburger onto his pants much to the dismay of a certain woman in the corner who damn near feinted, but it seems in the process of making it water proof his sister somehow had made it sauce proof as well. The blob seemed to simply skate along his pants until it hit the floor "Well that was cool..." He says as he watched the blob move, he had originally been afraid his sister would kill him. His mind simply came up with one comment Super pants TOOO THE RESCUE!

Colby was on his way to check their supplies of condiments when one of the members of the large group hailed him for attention. It was little surprise that Holly wasn’t around. Now that the food had been delivered, she likely wouldn’t show her face until it was time to give the check. Colby put on a sideways grin and headed toward the large group of people. At least he wouldn’t have to take all their orders. “Hi.” He spoke slowly, doing his best to minimize the stuttering. “Wuh-w-w-what can I d-dd-do ffor you?” Yeah, didn’t work.

It wasn’t a big request at least, just another chocolate shake. He tapped it out on the tablet and nodded his head. “Sure. I’ll b-b-bu-br-bring it out in a j-j-ji-juh-jiffy.” Colby resisted the urge to rub at his left ear each time he stuttered, a habit he was attempting to break. He managed to hold off until he was walking away from the table to help fix the shake. The grill needed Dave’s attention, so items like shakes and drinks all the wait staff tended to get themselves.

“Sink?” The woman who broke out into song caught him before he got too far. It took a moment to register what she asked, and then he was gesturing toward a hall off to the right of the entrance. The restroom sign hung just above the corridor, that was the only place for a customer to wash up. The sink in the back was restricted to the employees.

In just a couple of minutes, Colby was on his way back with the chocolate shake, covered with a generous portion of whipped cream and a cherry on top. Holly skimped on her shakes, took too much work, but Colby liked to make sure people had their money’s worth. “Here you g-g-guh-go.” He set it down along with a fresh napkin, straw, and a long handled spoon. “Enj-jjoy.” Again with the smile, but it faded quickly when there was a commotion in his table area.

He couldn’t contain the groan when the table broke under the weight of the man thrown on top of it. The sound was a mixture of horror, shock and resignation because he’d be the one that would have to clean that up. The sound of something breaking already had Jerry, the manager of the diner, streaming out of the back, sputtering at the sight that greeted him. Colby was moving to get the necessary items he’d need to clean it up, as Jerry moved to the man the young woman indicated she was with. The manager was already tapping away on a small tablet as he directed his words toward Johan. “I will need to know who I can contact to bill for the damages caused here.” Class one or not, this was damage to the physical property of his diner and he was well within his rights to demand they pay for the cost of repairs.

Colby meanwhile was lugging out a bucket, broom and mop to the table. He’d have to actually cart some of the broken bits of the table away after he cleaned up the mess caused by broken plates, spilled food and drink, and shattered glass. He needed to stop thinking that his day couldn’t get any worse. Because every time he did that, it got worse. After snapping a few pictures with the tablet to record the damage, he focused on sweeping up the glass and plates first into a dust pan. It was barely a minute later when another customer came in and sat in his station. Blue eyes locked gazes with the man as he gave his order.

Colby set the broom and dustpan out of the way with a nod as he straightened up. “Sure. I’ll bbb-be rright b-buh-b-back.” He washed his hands, then Colby went about fixing a cup of coffee. Luckily, it was a fresh pot, so it was hot and not stale. It was carried over on a saucer and set down before the man with a sideways smile. “Let m-m-me know if you nuh-n-n-nu-want anything else.” Now, back to clean up duty. Oh joy.

Johan smiles calmly as the new girl joins them and it doesn't go away when Mac makes a spectacle of herself. "Well if it isn't the run away addict! Still fleeing from the police are we?" He exclaims conversationally like there wasn't anything strange about it at all. The manager who had been making his way over to talk to him about damages, stopped and pulled a phone off his hip before dialing. As he watches her expression a smirk appears on his face, "With all due respect dear you really should go somewhere and sleep off whatever it is you are on." His voice held the usual kindness it always did, as if he actually cared for the girls health rather than the odd situation they where in. His left hand was buried in his pocket while his right was resting an elbow on the table. Despite honestly caring about the woman he had learned to distrust aggressive personalities mixed with drug users.

When Juliette had thrown the man into the table originally, Johan had turned to face that direction. Anyone with enough observation skills would have noticed his hand go into his pocket then, it hadn't come out since. To the casual observer that didn't know him they would think he was reaching for a weapon. However knowing him personally you would know he never carried any form of lethal weapon despite his brothers offers to get him any manner of gun or blade. It wouldn't take long for Mac to notice the little red light blinking in his pocket. Being a seasoned criminal would bring two things to mind 1.) it could be a bomb, 2.) it was some form of panic button. In truth it was the latter, multiple police cars had already been dispatched to the building and would be there in a manner of minutes. The device simply transmitted his coordinates and an emergency call for backup. He had found it useful when treating the less fortunate and more prone to violence and crime. While Johan did have a large amount of martial arts and combat training, he was unfortunately not allowed to use it to its full potential due to the Hippocratic oath. So when things got out of hand when he first started his little healing campaign his mother forced him to carry it with him at all times.

In general when Johan was in trouble it was more than one person involved, so the police tended to send multiple cars. Usually 2 or 3, the result would be 4 to 6 officers armed for riot control. The armaments where because one time when he gave the last of his free medicine to a poor woman it cause a bit of a scene with others that couldn't get the same medicine, the following riot had to be quelled by a greater military force unfortunately. So the police came armed for war just in case it happened again. His earlier exclamation had been to get the manager to call the police with the hope that he would get a message to the police before he pushed the button so they could send less serious measures but from the look of the manager he was on hold waiting for a free line. Unbeknownst to the people in the diner, the earlier down poor had created some flooding in a few of the lower parts of class two which meant the 911 line would be used to its fullest for a while. So unfortunately overkill would be sent to apprehend the drug addicted woman.

Like nothing was happening he turned to the new girl and smiled lightly at her "My name is Johan, Miss Morgan, its nice to meet you. Please feel free to order anything you'd like." He seemed perfectly comfortable providing for the friend Juliette had just made. It was unclear as to his reason for this, it could be that he wanted Juliette to feel comfortable, or he could honestly just be that nice. With his constant attitude toward conflict and random giving to everyone it would be hard to believe he had an alternate motive. Maybe he did honestly just like to make people happy. Though he didn't offer the same to Mac, this was more likely due to their earlier encounter coloring his perspective of the woman. If she was willing to walk into a police station to get drugs he didn't really feel like adding her to the fun atmosphere he had at the restaurant, not to mention she would be removed soon enough anyway..


(Note: Sorry not sure how to put this in elegantly but if Alex's people are listening in to police radios they would know the riot geared people are coming.)

Johan simply stared right back into Juliette's beautiful green eyes and gave the same calm smile he always did. Not even a knife at his throat seemed to phase this man, which begged the question. Was he really as soft as everyone thought all the Class 1's where? In fact he didn't give any response to the knife until Adrian pulled his gun. His eyes slide gently over to Adrian to get his attention before shaking his head ever so slightly "Adrian put that away would you. You are scaring folks." He smirked lightly before returning his eyes to Juliette's, allowing her to search his eyes and his face for any sign of deceit. "Dear if I wanted you arrested I would have walked in with the police on my heels and had more waiting at the back entrance. The police are looking for that woman." His eyes flick to the now fleeing Mac. "My intention is to tell them where she is. Now if you would please do yourself a favor and..." Just then the door burst open and six riot police poured through it. With one hand he gently and kindly touched the hand that held the blade to his throat and calmly pressed it away, a gentle nod telling her that it is alright. At the same time he says "My you are a good actor!" His eyes looking directly at Juliette as if she had been trying to distract the run away this whole time. His voice was loud enough for everyone to hear and he sounded quiet convincing. Add onto that her singing skill and obvious beauty and people wouldn't have a hard time believing she was an actor.

With a smooth motion he stood and turned to face the entering police who where moving to him to figure out what the situation was. "Perfect timing we where running out of ways to distract her. The drug addict that escaped the station earlier attacked a man and fled out the back." He pointed toward the kitchen where there was no doubt a back entrance. Though he was lying expertly Juliette's paranoid eyes would notice a slight hesitation as he said it, as well as his eyes drop ever so slightly. He had masked the barely visible tell by turning to point. This meant that before when he was trying to calm her he was telling the truth. He watched as the police split into two groups, one going out the back and the other back out the front to attempt to cut the run away off. With the police off to do their job he knew he had a few things to take care of thanks to le belle's exploits. He turns and approaches the manager to hand him a business card. He then returns to the people he came in with. Looking at Adrian and Juliette saying "I am not completely familiar with these situations, but I believe this is the part where we... how do you say it 'make ourselves scared'?" He smirked lightly as if he though he was using the phrase properly despite his one word slip up. "My car is out front, there is plenty of room and it is much less conspicuous than your usual modes of travel." He looked at both of them when he stated it. Referring both to the hover bike Adrian favored and the board the girl had been shot down while riding.

Morgan was confused, so much was going on. First, who were these people? They didn't seem related in any manner. She liked weird things, she could be the definition of weird to some, but they took that position from her easily. This girl, Juliette, had gone from being nice, sort of, to holding a knife to the guy they called Johan, and now the one called Adrian had pointed a gun at Juliette. So they weren't friends with each other? And now the police were coming?

She looked at Mac now, understanding the cops were after this woman. But if Morgan was found here, her parents would definitely freak out on her for going somewhere and getting into this mess. She let out a surprise yelp when six riot police came in, and she stood up almost immediately, and stared in shock as Johan called out "My you are a good actor!" at Juliette, and the weapons that were showing not too long ago were now concealed from view. Playing it off is smart.. she thought numbly.

She stared even longer at Johan in awe as he spoke to the police and watched the police split off, and she put both her hands on her head, turning in a full circle to see what was going on around her, inside and outside the diner. Stopping to gather her thoughts, she closed her eyes. What the hell... she thought slowly, before reaching a hand down into her pocket, putting some money from the food she had earlier onto the spot where the sat since Juliette had forced the table away when she lunged at Johan.

"This... this is great guys." she spat out, a tone of slight annoyance, but obvious confusion etched over it. "Just how in the world do you plan on walking out of here when there are police left and right, without being questioned?" she directed the comment at Johan, raising an eyebrow. "I'd like to know what your big idea is on that, because I rather not be caught in here myself."

When Juliette was little, she had a single jigsaw puzzle that she put together and took apart over and over again. It was her only toy. So, every time she put the jigsaw puzzle together, one puzzle piece would go missing and every time she took it apart to put it back together, another puzzle piece went missing, until only half of her jigsaw remained. That was what Johan was like: a jigsaw puzzle that slipped further and further away from her each time she tried to put him together.

Looking at Johan's car through the window. It was the most amazing, beautiful, sleek and modern vehicle she'd ever seen in her life. The Sun glinted off of its polished surface, threatening to blind her with its perfection. She glanced at Adrian, then at the police that surrounded them. They weren't arresting her and from what she'd seen of Johan, she doubted he was lying. Either that or he was such a good actor, that he could lie so you believed his lie with the truth of his lie and his lies were truth. Still, what better option did she have.

"Okay..." she said slowly, looking at Johan. Or rather, looking at Johan's clothes. She clasped her hands together, then folded them in front of her chest, to stop them from reaching out to rip his shirt and pants off. She supposed that might've looked a little strange. Just a little.

"This... this is great guys," spoke a voice laced with annoyance. Juliette pursed her lips, turning her head to Morgan with a frown. She rubbed her right temple, having forgotten the woman was there. "Just how in the world do you plan on walking out of here when there are police left and right, without being questioned? I'd like to know what your big idea is on that, because I rather not be caught in here myself."

Juliette absently patted Johan's arm, looking past Morgan's shoulder at the parked police cars. "There's this magical thing called a Johan Ferin. He's Class One," she said, as if that explained everything, which it did. "The police would be insane or suicidal to arrest him and his..." She searched for an appropriate word for whatever they were. "Companions." She'd only known the doctor for a short while but she was beginning to like him and his usefulness. He was like an all way, VIP ticket to the world. With him, she could assault an old lady, burn down six buildings and set fire to the rain and still not get in trouble. He was nice in that aspect. She hoped to keep him around a little longer, if not forever. Oh, the things she could do with him.

On the other hand, there was Adrian. Glancing at the detective, she narrowed her green eyes at the gun he held and wished she had one of her own. She fiddled with the rings on her hands, a habit for when she was deep in thought and the decisions of her thoughts was a matter of life and death. She took in the police and measured the number of steps it would get her to the stuttering waiter, the back door, a car. Juliette twisted one of the many rings on her fingers, the cool metal as familiar as if it were an extension of her body. The rings were not mere pieces of jewellery, but practical objects that activated hoverboards, signalled for her gang to find her wherever she was, injected poison into her system to kill her should she be compromised with no hope of survival and so on. All of them were useless to her as of now.

"One one hand, he has nice clothes," Juliette mumbled to herself. "On the other hand," she held up her right hand, lifting it open the artificial lights of Broken Tooth. "I have fingers."

She turned her attention towards the officers, giving them the slow, sultry smile she always gave her clients. It was a smile that promised more of what they could see, a smile that promised escape from the harsh realities of life. She tilted her head to the side, threading her fingers through Johan's and taking a step behind him. Submissive, harmless, female, submissive, harmless, female, she repeated in her mind. When all hope is lost, use boobs. Juliette tossed her wavy auburn hair over one shoulder, letting Johan's shirt slide over it. She gazed at the detective, batting her eyelashes as she gave him her ever popular, don't-blow-my-brains-out smile.

"Shall we go?" she asked, stepping forward and tugging on Johan's hand. "My womanly, slim and admittedly nice legs are growing tired. Getting shot might have something to do with it, though," she said teasingly, chancing a glance at the cops. "I don't think I'm interested in going through that ordeal again. Electrocution is surprisingly painful."

Well, the shirt was worth it.

Johan sighs lightly at Juliette's response, in truth he disliked his class being called into attention. Unfortunately she was right, it was his status that acted as a shield as well as his many favors for the police station. None the less he couldn't let such a pompous statement from the class 3 girl go unanswered "Actually I will be questioned in due time,just like any criminal witness. The police have my personal number and are fully capable of getting a hold of me at any time. They understand that my time is limited and I have a lot of good to do around class two so they contact me when they need me so I can fit them in. If you are worried about it though." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card. His personal number already written on the back "You can keep track of me yourself.... Also would you mind giving this to the boy cleaning up the table. I'm afraid I must get going but he deserves a little extra tip for his hard work." He handed the girl a bill folded up so that a one dollar bill was on the outside. Any onlooker would assume he gave her 15 dollars or something, the truth was it was a fifty wrapped in a one. "I trust you." He smiled at her gently, knowing anyone who would object to them leaving based on the thought that they needed to talk to the police first, was likely a trustworthy and law abiding person.

It was time for them to get moving, he had a lot to do with the interruptions of today and he still had to drop the pair off. As they got into the car he introduced Greg as if he was just another friend. First introducing him to them then them to him. Greg seemed nice enough in his loudly flowered orange and yellow Hawaiian shirt. With direction from Adrian, Greg would take them to whatever hotel room they where staying at tonight. Being fully aware of the activity the two where likely to participate in he wasn't planning on staying with them. Adrian would understand his propensity toward plausible deniability, having had him 'happen' to not be around when Adrian did what he did rather often in the past. Being a doctor Johan knew full well what kinds of things Adrian had his hands in, but preferred not to see them first hand. He found that not being around when he did them improved his view of the man greatly.

When the car stopped at the hotel he got out and knocked on the trunk, Greg promptly popped it for him and he dug around a bit. "I think I have.... Yeah here it is." He pulls out a little backpack "Robin's 'emergency' bag, with" He mimic's his sister's voice "All the things a girl could need." He chuckles a little "Not completely sure what all that entails, but I know there is a change of cloths and some cleaning products in there but I am not really sure what the rest of it is." He would hold the backpack out to Juliette. His sister had these hidden all over the place, in his car, in his brothers car, probably in her own car. He even found one at his beach house once and he didn't even know she had gone there before. She was always had to look perfect and these bags did just that. The backpack contained high quality shampoo, conditioner and soap, a large selection of makeup's of all shapes and sizes and some moisturizer just in case, buried at the bottom where the basic feminine hygiene products for the time that caused men to flee in terror. To top it all off, inside a specially made vacuum bag to keep cloth from wrinkling was one of her personal styled dresses. Johan didn't really understand it all, but when it came to her looks he found it was better to just nod your head and go with it. Never the less it would come in handy now. Though he would have to make sure Robin sent him another one or he would get a talking to next time she needed it.

Colby abruptly sat up in bed, heart pounding, palms sweating, skin itching. He had a dream, but he couldn’t recall anything more than feeling terrified and even that was ebbing quickly. A quick wipe of his hands along the bed covers, then he covered his face with both palms. Breathing was forced into a slow and steady rhythm until he couldn’t feel every beat of his heart reverberating through his body. It took approximately ten minutes before he felt normal-ish again and took a look around the room. And yesterday came crashing back down around him.

He had been fired. The manager believed Holly over his word, because well, Holly had boobs and she wasn’t afraid to show cleavage to make the decision sway in her favor. Holly claimed it had been Colby’s fault, from the breaking of the table to her table had skipped out on paying for their food in the commotion of the cops, and the fact that the cops had to come was also somehow his fault. It also didn’t help his cause that the manager was not a patient man, and didn’t care to try and wait out Colby’s stuttering explanation of what really transpired. He hadn’t been able to get in more than a sentence before the man just agreed with the girl and fired him.

It didn’t matter that he had been given money he thought was supposed to pay for the food. Or that he had seen Holly sweeping the table of any money in the commotion called by the cops. None of that came into light because he stuttered ten times worse when he was stressed or upset. He was informed that all damages would be taken out of his last paycheck, then they forced Colby to turn in his name badge. They even took the shirt off his back, because they had paid for the ‘uniform’, which consisted of a single red shirt, and he wasn’t allowed to leave with ‘company property’.

Humiliated, frustrated, and feeling a crap ton worse than he could recall in years, Colby walked home, shirtless, jobless and pretty damn depressed. That could have easily led into the nightmare he knew he had, but without being able to recall it, he couldn’t say for certain. Just as well, no one wanted to remember nightmares. “F-f-fu-fu-fuck!” Rent was due next week, which meant he couldn’t even wallow in his misery for very long.

Colby rolled over onto his stomach and screamed his emotions into his pillow. It made him feel just a little better, or a little more tired, maybe both. Suppose at least he could say he knew what he was going to do that day. Go job hunting. He rolled until he just fell off the side of the futon, landing with a thud on the floor. He used the small impact to help force himself to get up and grab a shower. Mentally, he was already running through other diners and places he thought he could reasonably get a job. If only he could find one where he could play the piano or his keyboards it would be a dream.

Pipe dream, order up.

"Morgan!" she heard her sister Chelsie say as she shot the straw wrapper at her face. Morgan let out a light laugh, covering her mouth as Chelsie tried unsuccessfully glare at her younger sister. The girl shook her head as a smile started appearing on her face, causing the dark brown curls to move back and forth. "You can never be serious, can you?" she asked as she dipped a mozzarella stick into the sauce in the center of the table, taking a bite and eyeing Morgan.

Morgan's laughing died down, her smile faltering slightly, but she looked down at her plate and picked up her fork, stabbing it into a pasta noodle and taking a bite, shrugging in response to Chelsie. Swallowing her bite, she smiled at her sister. "I can be serious when it's needed, Chels... It's just that.." she trailed off, looking out the window of the restaurant into the streets of Class 2. Biting her lip, she shrugged again, "I don't know, okay? Why do you have to ask questions about this anyway? I was just messing around with the straw wrapper. I didn't know this had to be a serious lunch date."

Chelsie leaned her back against the booth and sighed, running her hands through her hair. "It doesn't have to be a serious lunch date. Now before you get all snappy at me, calm yourself. Can't I just take my sister out to lunch and not have to see her temper so soon?" she smiled back at Morgan, and the tension disappeared. "Now what have you been doing since I haven't been around?"

"Not much, just being out and about with my friends, you know.. the usual." Morgan said casually, watching some people leave the restaurant, chattering happily amongst each other and cross the street to their vehicle. The week had lightened up, compared to what had happened in the beginning at the Broken Tooth. She hadn't returned there since, and she spoke nothing of what had happened to her parents when she had managed to get home that evening. She brought up nothing about the man who had tried to get a little close and personal with her, nothing about the weird group of people she had sat with, and nothing about the cops coming in.

She had almost choked on her breakfast the next morning when her parents were discussing the actual event at the Broken Tooth though at the table. Apparently word had spread pretty quick, and it was hard to look at her dad when he asked her if she knew anything about that when she was out, she could only shake her head. Setting her thoughts aside to ponder later, she pointed her fork at Chelsie before speaking up. "How are things with you, Chels? How's the new job?"

"Fine and dandy, actually. But nothing has happened that I would tell you about, I know you find it boring." The sisters laughed, and a waitress showed up to asked if they would like their drinks refilled, and they obliged, thanking her as she did and left to tend to her other tables.

"No, please. You can tell me about it. I haven't heard much from you lately, I'd like to know what's been keeping you out of my hair." Morgan joked, making Chelsie laugh and start her stories about her job and whatnot, all the while Morgan kept picking at her pasta, listening and nodding with it. In truth, she really did find it boring, but to see her sister lit up and passionate about something like this was good to see.

The week had been useless, Colby felt useless. He hadn’t located another job yet. Correction; he had located places with help wanted signs, however his interviewing abilities sucked a bucket of dead sea cod in a thick cheese sauce. He always grew nervous when it came time to actually speak as part of the interview process, as a result he stuttered horribly. Colby knew he had been lucky to land the job he had, but now he realized just how much luck had been involved. Luck that eluded him this whole past week.

Colby wound up doing what he could, busking in the park. It was a public park, and he found a spot that had decent traffic, but out of the way enough to not cause a jam. He had his keyboard, portable stand, and a small folding stool to sit on. His tip jar was an empty gallon water jug with a slit for tips to be dropped into. The whole thing was then secured with a rope tied around it, and the other end was tethered to his shoe. This wasn’t his first time busking.

Colby had experienced people who ‘dipped’, meaning they made it look like they were leaving a tip, when they were actually taking money out. Then there were the outright thieves who took the hat or bowl and ran with it. This was the best way he had discovered to keep whatever tips he managed to draw. It was another reason to find legitimate work in the music field so he didn’t have to busk, but he suspected there’d be a lot more subtle stealing he’d have to contend with then.

At least the weather was nice. It meant more people would be out and about, and the park was always a populated place when it was sunny. Colby liked the keyboard, but he didn’t rely too heavily on the electrical components, preferring the actual piano sound. Real pianos however were neither cheap, nor portable. He warmed up with a little ditty, nothing remarkable and certainly not memorable. His real niche was likely closer to classical than anything else. Colby played what he felt. He knew he could make more money playing what was ‘popular’, and he did that when he had a gig, but this? This was something else entirely.

Colby let his fingers caress the keys, focusing on the sound of every little press. A smile crossed his face and warmth flooded his blue eyes. It wasn’t hard at all to become lost in the music. It had always been a way to express himself, a way that didn’t involve stuttering or anxious breaths in some vain attempt to just talk normally. This was music. This was his soul. This was … everything.

And oh, how he played.