“Blue.”<br/><br/>The flickering neon of seedy bars which usually signified the outskirts of the Underhive and it’s rampant gangers were comforting, splashing a myriad of colors most unnatural against the cold plasteel walls and ferrocrete pavement under his feet. Except for blue. Scragg didn’t notice any blue and come to think of it while he hadn’t always been paying attention it was thought worthy as to whether that was the case on every level. Was that significant? No. No, he shook his head to and fro, cursing under his breath at such a silly idea the way that the destined-to-go-mad often did. It inspired a mother crossing at a causeway to usher her child away from the long-coated individual talking softly to himself quite disagreeably.<br/><br/>"No...no thats fething stupid."<br/><br/>The boy was curious as youth tended to be and stayed in place on the street longer than he should have until his mother outright grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and pulled him away from the passing detective. Despite his best efforts of avoiding it, the child touched him briefly. A simply brush of skin against the back of Scragg’s hand that sent the detective cringing and stumbling into a collection of rubbish bins as if struck from the Emperor himself with a migraine. Tears. Screaming. Pleading. Raised hands and foul muffled words through walls with little meaning. An abusive father? Didn’t matter, was just a kid. That single touch and a thoughtful mind sent flashes of emotional discharge spattering over Scragg’s brain like a moneyshot from a pornographic holo-pict. Throne he hated how he couldn’t turn that off sometimes.<br/><br/>“Feel so fething dirty sometimes… How about some Throne damn puppies every once in a while?” The Detective spat out angrily at the trash bin he was now holding onto to keep him from falling over, red in the face. Looking that much more touched as he responded to unspoken monologue in his own mind to the now terrified mother and child who were at least a good hab-block away by now, he eventually straightened up and righted his coat’s collar and the hang of his flak jacket.<br/><br/>“Now…where was I.” He asked of the wall to an old abandoned hospice before returning to his walk. It took him a little while to reach the middle hive through gumption and liberal use of the Hive Subrique Lift system and while he might have been going ‘up’ in the world his mood soured with each step he took into the abandoned area. Once he managed to get himself past the great barrier between the two sections it was little more than a few questions here, and a drop of a throne into the hat of a few beggars there till his way was finagled to the apartment buildings. Peeking his head in to see the rest of the accumulated motley crew of Arbitrators and other interesting…bedfellows… His expression perked up when he noticed Cat. He raised a hand in greeting, leaning on the door frame but not quite entering yet; pulling a Lho-stick from a mangled container in his pocket and lighting up till it’s sickly-sweet wisps of smoke hit him behind the eyes.<br/>