#breyos

*The room was silent. There was a faint snap echoing through the low warehouse-like storage as the lightswitch changed poles. The fluorescent fixtures buzzed momentarily as the lights flittered on; row by row; illuminating this odd treasury of seized items. Ornaments and sculptures, covered in blank sheets; thicker than an Unward’s blanket. Paintings of both Citizen and Wards alike. Beautiful plasters; ripped from the walls. Suitcases and trunks; unopened for many years; with piles of hundreds of books spread all over the place to fill in the gaps.... It all seemed endless.

*The lights crackle for a brief moment as the ventilators hummingly begin circulating the cool, still air which has the scent of dust and a vague hint of perfume.

*Breyos runs his finger across the dusty frame of an oil painting; one not covered by a sheet; depicting a blond haired Ward posing stoically with an apple.

[Breyos] This… might take longer than I anticipated, Sisi. *He wipes his finger clean and looks at him. He chuckles faintly. [Breyos] But I suppose I will not be going anywhere soon, will I?

*C_C regards the vast storage room, tilting back his head. It stretches into darkness, beyond sight, where the amassed collection of goods falls into ordered racking. Around them, however, more recent takings are stacked or leant in disarray; accrued at a pace too rapid for documentation, or left deliberately undeclared. There is the faint smell of ash, of charred edges, and the earthen smell of things pulled up from their hasty wrappings in freshly turned soil. C_C leafs a few pages attached to his clipboard.

[C_C] … You will note that the manifest of Assets Retained or Confiscated is incomplete.

[Breyos] Hmmm that’s what I thought… Could you please tell me when the last asset was correctly added to the manifest and when the most recent items were brought here? I take it that everything before that date has been labeled correctly, yes?

*There is a moment of silence in the vast, humming quietness of the room, amongst the scattering of lives and wealth. [C_C] … Contents of Compound 45, East; Seizure of Property; Document of Due Sum Defaulted after Underpayment. Four oil paintings; scenes various, One Silver Tea Set with Sugarbowl. Two Carton Cigars. One Suit; Velvet, One Wedding Dress; White Lace. Two Wedding Bands; Gold, Slightly Tarnished. The date is… Redacted. Supervising Reclaimant; Captain W_A.

*Breyos inhales deeply.

[Breyos] Thank you.

*He makes his way through the narrow, makeshift aisle of the storage until he reaches a small chest. Someone’s initials are carved deeply into the dark oak wood. The lock has been forced open. Breyos lifts the lid, revealing several pieces of jewelry as well as a broken hand-mirror and a couple of cosmetics.

[Breyos] This will definitely take longer than anticipated. Let’s…. Hmm…

*He closes the lid. [Breyos] Let’s think of a system here, Sisi. Let us start at the beginning, shall we?

[C_C] As you wish.

*C_C spends a moment flicking through his papers.

[C_C] Entry one. This Storage Room was built to specification T-AC-A40-10, with a square footage of -

*Breyos raises his hand, bringing his sentence to a halt.

[Breyos] Yes, yes, I’m sure it is. The first item, is what I meant. Unless you would like to start with certain items first, hmm? Which would you prefer? Books? Jewels? My personal guess would be ‘paintings’, correct?

[C_C] Yes.

*His answer is so sudden, it half-interrupts Breyos’ words. C_C moves to where torn muslin is draped over the edges of a stack of gilded frames. He turn his green stare to Breyos.

[C_C] Begin. Your Functionary will note remarks on the Manifest and a catalogue number will be assigned to the item.

[Breyos] Very well.

*The first piece of art they reveal instantly confirms Breyos’ presumption that what they have here, in this room, is nothing but the very best they could find. Or ‘confiscate’. The painting shows a relatively old, blonde, green eyed Ward dressed in white; sitting down; holding an apple. Behind him and slightly to the left stands a younger, black haired, blue eyed Ward. She is dressed with many layers of dark clothing, including a thick wool cape.

The paint darkened over the years; making her blend in well with her surroundings.

[Breyos] This C-line looks like you in 20 years. He’s not related to you, is he?

*He takes a small step back to better appreciate the composition. [Breyos] He might be, actually, considering the small gene-pool the Ministry had to work with.

*C_C regards the painting analytically.

[C_C] We share blood. Though this C-Line is old. The apple is a metaphor for his retirement and death. That is called Applied Arts, Breyos Vesalius. Which of your comments shall I record on the Manifest?

[Breyos] Hmm. Title: ‘C- and F-line with Apple’… Date: Unknown. Artist: Someone with initials ‘H. K.’. Presentation: Framed. No major blemishes. Grade: ‘Museum Quality’.

*Breyos frowns and places his hand on the gilded frame. He looks around the room while he thinks. A short, silent moment passes. He inhales deeply before speaking.

[Breyos] You know, C_C, it would be a shame to hide paintings like these underneath a muslin sheet for more years to come. With your knowledge of Applied Arts AND, may I add, being highly skilled in management-related activities such as this… Perhaps we could display a selection of the best items we’ll find in here. An exhibition, if you will.

*C_C finishes his note-taking. He kneels beside Breyos with his passive stare unblinking.

[C_C] Mr. Laurence Fairfax assured Your Functionary that they would visit the Exhibition of Degenerate Post-Impressionism before the works were burned. But we did not. Mr. Laurence Fairfax told Your Functionary that the museum had been destroyed entirely by a bombardment. Also the park. Also, the Theatre.

*C_C’s eyes are hooded. He breathes out.

[C_C] We will have our exhibit, Breyos Vesalius. Continue.

*Breyos’ smiles broadly and sets the painting aside.

*It is evening in the Facility. Association hours are long over, and the lights in the vast levels are dimmed or off. Only Level 6 still thrums with the incessant motion of generators, and the drone of ventilators powering their night-time cycles creates a faint almost-breeze that is a like a breath upon the cheek.

*In the dark corridors, interspersed evenly and economically, Breather guards rattle and glisten in their slick uniforms, like insects.

*Laurence’s blue sleeves are rolled to his elbows. His navy blue tie is loose, the uppermost button of his shirt undone. He walks the levels of his Facility, throwing a ball hard and far for the group of dogs that follow him. There is a scrabble of claw and pad on tile, and a snap of sharp jaws as they run to fetch. The largest, palest doberman returns it to his hand. He throws it again.

[Fairfax] Good girl.

*Laurence takes a cigarette from his case, and lights it. In the flare of light his wearied face is illuminated, and below, on Level three, he catches sight of another.

*With his elbows resting on the stainless steel railing of the balcony outside the lab, Breyos shifts his weight to his other leg. The cigarette between his fingers casts a faint orange glow on his fingers while the thin swirl of smoke fades into the hollow between levels above.

*Breyos tilts his head back. The tiny blinking LED’s of the facility’s alarm system are a poor replacement for a starry sky; the sound of a bouncing tennis ball, hushed whispers and humming machinery a poor replacement for nature.

*Movement in the corner of his eye draws his attention: the sight of another person with a similar idea on how to spend a lonely evening. He turns and looks at the balcony above. He speaks; quiet and warm.

[Breyos] Good evening, Mr. Fairfax.

[Fairfax] Ah! Mr. Vesalius!

*Laurence calls across the level. Princess replaces the ball at his feet, and he lifts and readies his throw. [Fairfax] Catch! *Breyos quickly puts his cigarette between his lips and readies his hands. The ball bounces. Once. Twice. It ricochets off him but he manages to catch it eventually by awkwardly pressing it against his chest before it slips away again. He waves the ball to the upper level; whistling as he holds his cigarette between his fingers.

[Breyos] This way, girls!

*Laurence smiles, following the group of dogs down the staircase until he is beside Breyos. The dogs are sitting patiently around him. He inhales strongly of his cigarette, blowing blue smoke through his nostrils.

[Fairfax] Having an evening constitutional, are we? What is that you’re smoking? Smells positively ghastly.

*Breyos throws the ball and smiles, watching the dogs hurry after it with an occasional growl. He chuckles softly.

[Breyos] Hmm. 'ReWard’, if I am not mistaken. The other options were less appealing.

*He inspects the nondescript cigarette briefly. It is already half gone.

[Breyos] I have heard you sometimes enjoy smoking pipe, yes?

[Fairfax] ReWard? Is that entirely appropriate for a man of your breeding, Mr. Vesalius?

*Laurence turns, eying the lower levels.

[Fairfax] Wouldn’t want any of the Wards having any misguided ideation about their place… No. I’d assert that you, Mr. Vesalius, ought to be smoking a pipe yourself - with some good tobacco and a glass of scotch. Symbols you see… Non-verbal stimuli! You have to remind them  -

*Princess skirts around Breyos and drops the wet ball near Laurence’s feet. He kneels, and tosses it off the balcony. The dogs rush down the stairs.

[Fairfax] - Remind them of our innate superiority, don’t you agree?

[Breyos] I took my father’s advice when he once told me precisely that, Mr. Fairfax, and felt ill for days. I haven’t tried since. The pipe, I mean. Once bitten, twice shy, as they say.

*Breyos lets the smoke escape gently through his mouth, hearing the quiet echoes of the tennis ball on tiles.

[Breyos] I used to breed my own lab-mice, you know? But when is a mouse considered ‘tame’...? Could you tell them apart from a wild mouse, on sight? In most cases… no. So what do we do? We breed white mice. Mice without tails. Mice without fur. Anything to set them apart. And because it is beneficial to us.

*There is a brief pause while Breyos takes another drag from his cigarette. [Breyos] Is it any different with Wards?

*Laurence leans back against the balcony. He draws idly on his cigarette.

[Fairfax] Hardly. You’ve met all of my white mice, haven’t you?

*He rests his cold, implicating stare on Breyos.

[Fairfax] Did you enjoy the Ball, Mr. Vesalius?

*Breyos strokes his beard, avoiding direct eye contact.

[Breyos] Oh certainly. You’ve spoiled us, Mr. Fairfax.

*He briefly licks his lips in a slightly nervous fashion, shifting his weight.

[Breyos] But have you noticed…? How different people act after a few drinks. Saying and doing things they normally never would. Funny, isn’t it?

*Laurence watches him with scrutiny, until his held breath becomes a sigh. He turns, and flicks his spent cigarette into the gaping void between the levels. He watches as it descends - a single spark in the gloom.

[Fairfax] There is a necessity for such events, Mr. Vesalius. A controlled release of pressure. Uncorking the bottle, you might say, so the whole business doesn’t explode. They’re only capable of a few distinct emotions you know. The Wards. Rage, fear, love. They need a firm hand.

[Breyos] Clearly. To see a facility not only survive but also thrive shows a great level of Ward knowledge and expertise. Like a work of art.

[Fairfax] Well. You of all people should know what happens when you allow a Ward to Facilitate. Yours was a woman, yes? There’s another problem. Wild little fillies. Best kept downstairs. Unheard and unseen.

*Breyos puts out the smoldering cigarette on the iron railing, brushing off the leftover ashes with his pinkie.

[Breyos] Hmmm, she was, yes. She did her best but the circumstances were not ideal, you see. I took it upon myself to be acting liaison facilitator; to help delegate the situation we were in; as being the only Citizen around. I’m sure you would have done the same, Mr. Fairfax.

[Fairfax] No. I would never have allowed a Ward authority over me. And certainly never a Ward woman.

[Breyos] Well then. …Let’s hope a situation like that never arises again, hmm? But if it would, I wish; without a doubt; you would be the one taking control, Mr. Fairfax. If only there’s always a man like you around to advise us.

[Fairfax] Quite so. If I’d been there a few years ago… Why your charming little venture with the - what was it - museum? It might have succeeded. A strong business plan, Mr. Vesalius… Perhaps a little investment capital. And a handful of Unwards… My Brother could have done the construction… You didn’t think it through thoroughly, did you?

*Laurence speaks with a faint, derisive chuckle.

[Fairfax] I can’t blame a man for having ambitions, even if they are foolhardy.

*Breyos smiles back at him, teeth clenched as he joins him with a faint, meaningless chuckle.

[Breyos] Hmm. Yes. How unfortunate my heritage and the funds I had put aside to fully finance the museum are… temporarily unavailable. I should have invested it more wisely, like yourself. A mistake I will not make again now that I know how what should be done instead.

*He pats Breyos on the back, and smiles. The dogs arrive back from fetching the ball, and Laurence throws it again, athletically, pleased with himself. He turns back to the other man.

[Fairfax] Perhaps I could help you. We’re a thoroughly modern Facility. A little collection… Carefully curated…

*Breyos slightly frowns, his head ever so slightly tilted to the side.

[Breyos] Outside of Fair-co…?

[Fairfax] Oh no, Mr. Vesalius. Well. You’ve been here a decent amount of time now. I’ve found you a sincere friend. *He comes forward, confidentially. His eyes are cold. [Fairfax] When my dear clients have an economic problems… I’ve been willing to accept other forms of payment. At great inconvenience to myself, you understand. It’s all perfectly legal. When our family lawyer crawls out of hiding, I assure you she’ll find it lawful. Perhaps… With some artistic arrangement… Something could be made of the collection of goods… For enrichment and leisure, yes?

*He brushes dust from Breyos’ lapel and smiles upwards at the taller man.

*Breyos takes a moment to think.

[Breyos] Well, Mr. Fairfax, you are speaking to the right man.

*He looks down at Laurence, unmoving when the other man touches his lapel. He clears his throat.

[Breyos] And this, ah... - art, I assume - is all stored within this facility, yes? May I see it?

*Laurence steps back. His cold stare lingers on Breyos. From the silk of his inner pocket he removes a little key, and brings it to his lips to kiss. He throws it upward and catches it smoothly.

[Fairfax] Come with me, old boy. Perhaps we’ll find a razor for you in there, hmm?

*They walk the dimmed corridors of FAIR-CO, the four dogs in toe. Silhouettes of Wards ahead of them have moved out of sight by the time they walk past.

*They arrive at a short, dead end corridor on level 5. Breyos passes this door on a near daily basis on his way to the lab. The storage room, he remembers, but assumed the space behind it was no bigger than a decently sized broom-closet.

*The key fits and turns...

[Breyos] Are you alright there..?

*Breyos grimaces when the AGRI-Ward, who has been entertaining him with hard to believe stories involving ‘hairy pigs’ for the last couple of minutes, suddenly stops talking and clasps his hand in front of his mouth. His cheeks are cherry-red while the rest grows paler and paler. A little burp.

[Breyos] Why don’t you let me hold this for you, hmm?

*Breyos takes the AGRI’s drink from him and the Ward instantly uses his other hand to press down even harder on his own mouth. He then turns on his heels and runs out of the room, nearly knocking over other guests on his way.

[Breyos] Yes, that’s… what I thought…

*In one hand, Breyos holds a glass of whiskey. His own drink. In the other, a glass with a lukewarm, slightly fizzy and non-transparent liquid he could only identify as the AGRI-brew. He can smell it from there. *Breyos looks around. The bar is all the way on the other side of the room and all nearby tables are occupied. When looking the other way, however, he spots a different solution to his problem. *With a smile, he walks over to Chase and extends his hand holding the AGRI-brew.

[Breyos] Ah, miss Halstead, how are you this evening? Would you care for a drink, perhaps?

* With an audibly heightened and forced giggle Chase waves the client goodbye, her arm swiftly dropping to her side and turning away just in time to hear Breyos call out to her. As the man moves up to her she lifts her hand with the flute of diluted sparkling wine but it does little to stop the citizen in his tracks. The cup of foul-smelling broth is hastily thrust in her hand. She merely blinks, looking at the thinly veiled attempt of courtesy and generosity.

[Halstead] …Charming, Mister Vesalius. However do you swat the ladies from your person with this beguiling behavior…

[Breyos] The universe holds many mysteries, does it not?

*Chase coughs slightly, shifting the hand with the concoction in it out of the immediate path of her nose.

[Halstead] You must feel right at home, Mister Vesalius. I'm gonna take it you are having a blast.

[Breyos] Fine company, fine whiskey. What more could I ask for, hmm? Even the AGRI’s are still relatively well-behaved.

[Halstead] They have a very alluring charm… I like them drunk. Just not dressed like that…

[Breyos] A pity that the only thing remotely bright about them are their teeth.

*Breyos looks around, absentmindedly swirling his drink around before taking another sip.

[Breyos] But, of course, with every large gathering of people, you will always find some old familiar faces you’d rather not see. And also… new ones…

*With a subtly nudge of his head, he pulls Chase’s attention to the other side of the dance floor.

*The slight standstill in the conversation is easily covered as Chase scratches her throat, shaking her head side to side and shifting on her leg. Her curiosity is drawn back to Breyos as he gestures to a particular individual in the crowd.

*Having been able to finally locate someone to help her, Blue was conversing in a quiet voice. This was causing several guests to shoot her odd looks, as she was in fact, talking to a crow.

[Breyos] Do you know her?

[Halstead] Unknown by me. She arrived with a very… peculiar group.

[Breyos] Hmm… Yes, I thought so...

[Halstead] Whoever she is I do know she is quite out of your league, mister Vesalius. Let's not kid ourselves. A puffy-eyed look afterwards is hard to pull off especially with only one.

*Her tone and- what is visible of- her face is playful rather than scorning.

*Breyos chuckles as he looks back at Chase when she speaks. He then glances back at the woman briefly.

[Breyos] Oh, I have already caught a bigger fish today, miss Halstead. But you are right. Perhaps I should introduce myself to this… well… interesting looking lady, hmm? Ah, if you don’t mind..? You don’t want to finish that drink, do you?

[Halstead] Are we on a conquest, Mister Vesalius? Mind yourself. Laurence doesn't take kindly to… 'sharing beds'.

*She swirls the brew in her hand, a new waft of something only described as death and rot eliciting another cough from behind the shawl.

[Halstead] Go right ahead. I think feeding this to the melon is only gonna harm it.

*Breyos smiles widely and reaches out, taking Chase’s wine glass from her. He slightly lifts it up into the air as a cheer for her.

[Breyos] Always so understanding. Thank you kindly, miss Halstead.

*With a determined, yet charming look on his face, he moves himself between the crowd towards this peculiar woman.

*Upon approach, it becomes apparent that Blue doesn’t appear to be speaking english to the bird, instead making quiet squawks and chirps. The bird seems to murmur some kind of response before Blue raises her arm and he flies off. She lets out a big sigh of relief.*

[Breyos] Good evening, miss.

*Blue freezes and looks over her shoulder at the one person she was trying to avoid. Her memory of when she had last seen this man was hazy, thanks to whatever chemical they’d tested on her. Her instincts tell her to run before something bad could happen, but in this crowded space there is no immediate escape routes available to her. She runs a hand through her hair, a nervous gesture, and tries to remain calm with the knowledge that the magic is hiding her true nature. She clears her throat and tries not to sound so nervous. It doesn’t work very well.

[BlueSky] Y-yeah? Good evening to you too…

*Breyos smiles, extending the glass of wine towards her. [Breyos] Would you like a drink, perhaps, yes?

[BlueSky] Ugh, no I’d best not. Alcohol doesn’t sit well with me.

[Breyos] Oh, this is the wine, not that AGRI brew. No, you wouldn’t even want to give that poison to a dog, hmm.

*Breyos tips back the remains of his whiskey and places the empty glass on a nearby table. The glass of wine still in his hands. He chuckles faintly.

[Breyos] May I inquire about your name, miss?

*She tries desperately to think of some kind of response, slightly thrown by the dog comment, but it doesn’t come naturally to her.*

[BlueSky] Um, ah… You... would ask the name of a lady without introducing yourself first? What do they teach in these facilities?

*Breyos smiles faintly and takes a small bow before her, careful of his drink.

[Breyos] But of course. What was I thinking? My name is Breyos Vesalius. A pleasure. Please forgive me my manners, miss, but I could have sworn you had already caught my name earlier. Perhaps that was someone else.

*He looks around, casually swirls the wine in his glass. At first glance, none of the other guests seem to pay them any attention. Apart from Chase, most likely. He turns back to Blue with his back facing the rest of the room.

[Breyos] How may I call you? *Blue feels she wouldn’t be able to get out of this question again.*

[BlueSky] Heh… I’ve  been called, ugh a few things in my time. I suppose you can call me… Sapphire?

*She swears internally.* [Breyos] ‘Sapphire’... Like the blue gem, yes? How delightful! Did you come here all by yourself, hmm? It is unusual for someone to be alone here.

[BlueSky] Oh no I have friends here. They’re around somewhere. We keep an eye on each other, making sure we’re all alright.

*While trying to sound confident she is painfully aware that she still has no idea where the rest of the crew currently is. She steps back a little to quickly glance past Breyos and see if she could spot someone, or better yet if someone could spot her.*

*Breyos chuckles. He turns himself to stand by her side. His left arm moves behind her, the palm of his hand gently but resolutely placed between her shoulders. He pushes, guiding her to turn around, facing away from the crowd. The smile on his face doesn’t falter. [Breyos] Oh but of course! Always a wise decision when drunk AGRI-Wards are in close proximity. Ha ha. Luckily, miss ‘Sapphire’, we are all amongst friends here. And our dear Facilitator has been so kind to provide his guests with everything they need, did he not?

*Breyos keeps his hand placed between her shoulders, barely touching but the tips of his fingers still making contact with the subtle curve of the spinous process.

*Blue leaps away from his hand with a gasp of surprise and pain. Apparently, though the magic she and Curls had created had succeeded in changing her appearance, it had not affected the issues she still had with her back. She stared at him, unsure if what happened as accidental or done on purpose.

*The moment Blue gasps, Breyos’ removes his hand from her back as it had shocked him.

[Breyos] Oh dear… Was that some static electricity? Surely it must have been, no?

*He takes a breath to regain himself and raises his index finger. He then continues... [Breyos] Luckily, that was nothing to worry about, was it? There is, however, one small thing I simply have to warn you about. Don’t worry, miss Sapphire, I’m certain it is not the end of the world. But, you see, mister Fairfax is very fond of his dogs and their wellbeing. He does not appreciate it when someone risks their health. That is why some AGRI-Wards are, for example, advised to hold their breath as they walk past them. Germs from the fields above, you understand.

*He takes another sip.

[Breyos] Now, I could not help but notice your own little animal companion earlier… It is a lovely bird, don’t get me wrong… It’s just that… you see, birds are known to carry mites. I do hate to be ruining anyone’s fun but I felt the need to give you this little heads-up. I have a dog myself, you see. And I would not want something to him either. So I must agree with our dearest Facilitator. I too prefer the company of canines over feathered creatures.

*She runs a hand through her hair again, shaken and annoyed by his comments*

[BlueSky] Well, I can assure you our Castle Crows are much cleaner than what you might view as wild animals.

[Breyos] Are they now? Well, I will have to take your word for it. During my last visit, I could only see them from a distance.

*Breyos closes in on Blue, his focus on her; unyielding.

[Breyos] But you are right. Birds are not the problem. We have a bigger infestation to worry about, don’t we? Because your friends… have brought in… a… rat.

*Blue’s angry expression lessens into one of alarm and she backs away.*

[BlueSky] A… a rat? I’m… not sure I follow.

[Breyos] Do not mistake my subtlety for stupidity. I have worked with rats long enough to spot one when I see one in front of me.

*Breyos looks at her with medical curiosity, observing every detail. He leans forward slightly and speaks in a hushed whisper. One hand, very gently, touching the underside of her chin to coax her face in the direction of his choice.

[Breyos] How… did you do this…?

*Blue’s foot collides with the wall as she tries to back away more, her palms pressing against the cold wall. She knew, that he knew, and her mind raced for what to do. Her initial feeling of wanting run was even stronger now, but now she was backed up against the wall with his hand on her chin. Her lip lifted slightly hinting at the start of snarl almost. She gave a long exhale through her nose, trying to regain composure.*

[BlueSky] If- if you’re so smart, you can work it out right? You lot have persecuted us for it for so long after all. Though we were all amazed we pulled this off so well.

*Breyos lets his hand fall from Blue’s chin and places his open palm on his chest.

[Breyos] Persecuted? Oh dear, oh dear… Well then, I would strongly advise you to improve on your hiding skills *before* entering the lion’s den. Why did you come here in the first place, I wonder, hmm?

[BlueSky] Tsk. Maybe we wanted to get to know our new neighbours? Or perhaps just curious as to what a ball was like. I thought it would be fun, after all, who'd have thought after all this time that you'd be here… Why are you here?

[Breyos] Birds of a feather, miss ‘Sapphire’. And your kind does not belong here. We-…

*Breyos gasps, stumbling slightly whilst spilling a gush of wine over his own hand after receiving a hard, unexpected slap on his shoulder. He turns around instantly only to stand face-to-face with the same AGRI he had seen hurrying out of the room earlier.

[AGRI] Oi mister! Dem Unwards got some heavy cleanin’ up to do on Level 6. HA HA HA. Must’ve been somethin’ I ate, like you said! Feeling’ a whole lot better now!

[Breyos] Can this wait, I-

[AGRI] You still got my drink? Thanks mister!

*The AGRI-ward grins widely and snatches Breyos’ glass from his hand. Breyos wrinkles his nose as he shakes off the droplets of wine from his hand while the AGRI, for a second time this evening, nearly chokes on his drink.

[AGRI] Was this what I been drinkin’?! No wonder I was sick! Burgh!

*Breyos quickly turns back to Blue but only sees an empty wall behind him. He only catches a glimpse of her brilliant blue dress before she hides between other guests. He dries his hands with his clean handkerchief and inhales deeply while the AGRI lets the final drop of wine fall to the floor.

[Breyos] Yes, I am… *delighted* you have recovered so well… If you’d excuse me…

*Breyos moves past the big brute and returns to Chase.