div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"Ah, yes, the clacks runners. All young men, really, and the fastest of them all by far was Jay Leeson. He looked good doing it too, as his lithe figure leapt over carts and swung on lamppost, all to get those little pink clacks flimsies to their destination. He was proud of this fact. A good appearance could get you places in relationships. Not that he had a special women (or a special man for that record, he didn't care) in his life. He just... liked flirting, he guessed./div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"Not dating, just flirting. /div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;" /div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"This entire monologue played out as he ran though Sator Square, and on Battle Street. His eventual aim for this trajectory was to reach the palace, by the means of Eight Deadly Sins. At least, he assumed his eventual aim was the palace. The flimsy had 'GOVERNMENT BUSINESS; DO NOT READ' stamped on it. This was fine, he thought. He had delivered to these things before. The problem was that this one had no address, or government symbol. Nothing. At least, that was one of the problems. Thing was, every time he had had to deliver government clackses he had needed to deliver it to some other strange place, never straight there. Besides, the palace had its own terminal anyway. He had seen it sometimes, on night shifts. He had decided to deliver it to the palace anyway, just in case that was the location. This said a lot about him as a person./div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;" /div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"Ah, a wagon! He ran, picking up speed, and launched himself on to the back of it./div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;""Sorry for the inconvenience, madam. Just catching a ride to broadway!" To the woman in the back, "I'll be off sho- Martha! What are you doing here!?"/div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"The Klatchian woman turned, her headscarf glinting in the sunset. "It's not illegal to ride a kart, Jay."/div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;""I mean- oh, never mind I'm here now. Bye, Marthy!"/div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;""Vait, Jay!" A thick überwaldan accent called from the darkness of the driving seat./div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;""Give up, Kent. The rascal's gone."/div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"A pale face stared at her from behind a pair of round glasses. "But, the clvacks. It svaid government business but had no address. It could of been... a emfake/em." He said the word like it was a abomination. With that Kent jumped off the kart and on to the street./div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"Dear gods, Martha thought, vampires can be so stubborn./div
div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;""Alright, Kent, I'm coming too then." She sighed./div