((WIP (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=336641.msg16072232#msg16072232)))<br/><br/>The roof of a four story tenement. (How does the architect keep it flat? He's got his hand up his butt!). Patched with tin to keep off the rain. Practically a walkway for the pigeons and parkour kids. Old buildings always had that in common: cheap housing, poor lighting and easy access to the streets. Lights of the city sway disembodied in the mist, almost as though the stone structure floated on a cushion of blue that drifted up into a clear evening sky like an endless river pouring from the mouth of an ocean.<br/><br/>On the parapet - signs of the New Year celebrations: broken eggs and empty beer bottles. Some chump stuck two balloons, each one filled with confetti or paper snow, into a huge sign, made of old plastic bags or something. Fireworks explode over the river. The lights blink on.<br/><br/>The city seems so quiet tonight! Even those cars and trucks that crawl through these parts during the day sound different. No music coming from the bars along the way. It feels more solemn, like everyone’s celebrating alone, without anyone else around. Most folks are either holed up indoors watching the fireworks show or taking their families on an impromptu family holiday.<br/><br/>And yet, the air smells strangely fresh - almost fragrant. Like the breeze blowing through the back alleys in autumn after you've swept them clean, but somehow not cold and dry at all. More humid... And I swear it carries just enough energy for a hint of magic.<br/><br/>A meeting of sorts is scheduled on the spot. Despite the technofobia pervading this age, a few coded ads have appeared online. Cryptic messages on bus benches, posters tacked to lampposts. It looks pretty random, but this isn't any ordinary gangland shindig. This could turn into some kind of underground revolution if we get this wrong. Or else, well, it'll be nothing but a big joke by morning.