Wearing a ratty parka and ill-fitted jeans, there was not much that would distinguish Fog from the other homeless and destitute of Battered City. The streets we're relatively empty at this point of the day, as if one could really differentiate between day and night in the eternal dark provided by a black hole. The light was harsh. Neon and bright and buzzing, it did a good job of keeping the streets somewhat lit while bathing the alleys between buildings in black. The city was cold and the wind did not do the denizens of the city any favors. It was evident by the piles of snow that sometimes had oddly humanoid shapes to them as Fog walked on. As he approached his destination, he spotted a figure huddled against a wall shivering. Stopping next to the figure and crouching down, Fog observed that the human's coat was much too thin for this sort of weather. Placing a hand gingerly on the man's shoulder, his head snapped around to meet Fog's.<br/><br/><span style="color: gray">"Your jacket is not sufficient for this weather. Would you like to tra-"</span>, the Falkrian began before the man yelled and stabbed a previously hidden knife into the chest of Fog's parka, not piercing much before it hit Fog's chestplate. The man's unshaven face contorted in confusion at his grand plan gone wrong, while Fog's metal fingers wrapped around the man's hand.<span style="color: gray">"Your lack of judgment could have killed you today. Count yourself lucky, human,"</span>he said as he pushed the man's hand away and began to shrug off his parka. Wearing nothing underneath, the neon lights of the surrounding buildings flashed and glimmered upon the Falkrian's torso. The man looked on in confusion, and tried to snatch the parka and run but failed to tear it from the the alien's iron grip. In the end, the human dropped his dirty jacket to the ground and ran off with the parka with nothing more than grunts and spit used to communicate his dislike for what just happened.<br/><br/>Putting on the discolored and thin hoodie, he looked once more like some weird humanoid in a helmet with garbage clothes, once again blending in with the rest of the trash on Dystopia.<br/><br/>Walking into Cowry's bar, he was given some quizzical looks before people eventually went to their drinking. He was told to find Alice by his smuggler. She was described as golden-skinned and it was not hard to pick her out of the crowd with the aura of power she seemed enveloped in. Unfortunately it was when he found her that she was leading a small group of patrons through a guarded door in back. Looking over to the bartender, Fog motioned his head toward the door and slipped a credit chip across the bar. Without looking it over to see who its actual owner was and instead simply determining the sizable amount contained, Cowry let Fog in.<br/><br/>Looking like nothing more than gutter trash, Fog knew how out of place he looked within Alice's shining den of debauchery. The two Egnar looked at him with disinterest as he confidently moved between them, Cowry closing the opening behind him. A touch of discomfort flitted about within him, it was strange how this shining, luxurious piece of Dystopia seemed so dangerous compared to the darkness above. Fog descended down the steps rarely acknowledging the existence of those trapped in boxes to his sides and slipped through the door at the end without much fuss or appreciation for the decadence that surrounded him.<br/><br/>Upon entering the grand room at the end of his descent, Fog shed his ratty cloak and handed it to an attendant whose face seemed filled with confusion and concern. The room smelled of sin and, frankly, it was a bit of a wonderland taken straight out of some brightly colored fantasy. Creatures of all sorts were performing whatever sexual acts they could upon each other and differences in physiology were less of an obstacle and more of a challenge. It was clear why Alice held such power on this cold, barren world.<br/><br/>Approaching the small grouping of people that surrounded Alice, Fog simply took a seat, arms crossed and surrounded by a thin grey haze. His gaze as steady, intent on observing the interesting dynamic that the lamia seemed to introduce. It was hard to tell whether the snake-like being was foolish or strong what with her attempt to snatch an employee out from Alice's nose. While he needed to speak with Alice, it could not be said that Fog did not enjoy the sights and smells around him, not to mention to warmth. It wouldn't be hard to relax for a while before he needed to get back to business.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>