I knew a festive meeting between my fellow Supplies and space security [FL-ER].
Interested headed there. I'm venturing to parties where it is watered strong drink, tobacco and other viscitudes, not that I'm prudish, as I am prone to mistakes and failures as well.
However I became interested in social relationship between us, that so different from each other, given that we can work like crazy to fulfill contracts and then as if by magic, because of the circumstances, to protect the company, life and other in credits and even ideals, as well as making loans with goods condemned by some and appreciated by others, showing that among us there is no way to solve what is proposed.
That fascinates me.
Sometimes I feel like a mercenary.
With these thoughts turbilhando my feelings got to enncontro point: OSC | Atlantis after taking the shuttle from Planet Baden Baden.
I went into the bar after visually search all elements transiting over there, furtively chose a corner in the shadows, where I could see without being seen. There were glaring differences in toward each other, pilots and difficult people to catalog, including, my space navigation friends who were enjoying the real, each in his own way. These, however, was well dressed and clean, as the rules of good living among the finest society.
Soon I bother with the smell of drink and other odors, such as tobacco, whose smoke filled the air, sweat and even xulé a bruiser with uniform threadbare and filthy the Lane Hackers. My discomfort increased when a Outcast passed near where I had laid me; I felt his smell who did not shower a few days and added to the unbearable stench of cardamine.
Without further ado I got up after paying buffalo milk that I and I retired to my business, which are not few.
I ask my companhaieros to forgive me not having the usual frequency bars.
I'd rather meet you before the daily work day to day.
A hug to all [FL-ER]