to give a fuck
Early Evening. The Sun is already setting and an earlier rain is only now letting up, fogging up the place. The fog is thicker in patches and mugs early evening joggers and ensnares miscreants taking over the park from the light. Northwest Sacramento is usually nice: damp air because of a nearby river invades the lungs and suburbia sprawls out in a vomit of samey houses and soccer mom vans.
Not a place one expects to talk about a new, major drug.
For all intents and purposes, Nous is a Sleeper looking to get in on the score. Her Aura, curtsey of Star, is disappointingly banal. Which fits their purposes rather well. The Illusionist's fingerprints are hidden from prying eyes.
At the moment, everything is still as though the whole park is holding its breath. Waiting. Watching.
Mentions:
Bigpaw Jhet RockBane Samaritan West