"Lasher" art is nearly there! New Chapter this coming week! Eaaaarly sneak peek for those who want to know where we're jumping to next ;)
They’re late…
It wasn’t by much. Only a couple of minutes so far. But given that Sarah had been so nervous she’d arrived almost a half hour early to lunch—and that was after getting lost twice—it made her tug anxiously at the strings of the blue hoodie she wasn’t used to. Galens’ dresscode was much the same as Annapolis’ had been, with one key different: civies. Whereas on Sol Sarah had been required to wear her regulars even on Sundays, the Institute was more lenient, allowing its cadets to dress down during personal hours. It was encouraged, in fact, when students headed into the city, to the point that Sarah had even been offered a brimmed hat to help hide her face when she’d notified the security center that she’d be visiting Easthold Mall for an afternoon. She’d refused, promising to just keep her hood up over her head instead, but it was surprising either way. Apparently Galens wasn’t interested in the notoriety of its name potentially causing trouble for students on their days off. Annapolis, by comparison, had generally encourage that kind of engagement with the locals—often to the detriment of the involved student’s leave time.
Sarah understood why—it paid credits on credits to keep a brand like Annapolis’ on everyone’s mind—but she had to admit she preferred the relative anonymity her hoodie, torn jeans, and plain sneakers had bought her, even if it took some getting used to.
Then again… She thought, looking around. Maybe that’s cause I’m just not a known name here.
She was sitting along the back wall of Anteiku, a cafe she’d suggested as a meeting place after managing to drag the recommendation out of Dawn Walls—a fellow 2-A Mauler Sarah had actually been able to exchange a few rare words with since transferring in. It was a small place in the higher floors of one of Easthold’s larger towers, but it was popular, the space buzzing with conversation from the other dozen or so tables that lined the clear smartglass walls alternatively displaying the cafe’s name, menu options, and advertisements for other shops throughout the mall. That was all ideal. Sarah had wanted a spot that was loud enough they wouldn’t be overheard by the causual eavesdropper, but not so big it wouldn’t feel personal. Because it was about to get personal…
… Or at least she hoped so, Sarah thought, glancing up at the corner of her frame, her stomach sinking when she saw 4 minutes past noon turn to 5.
It rebounded right into a flip that was part happy, part panic when a message notification chose that moment to flash up right beside the clock.
Sorry, we’re almost there, Aria Laurent had typed out. Moving a little slow.******Art by Vinchie