Name: Darius Delta (yes, partially recycled name)

Occuption: Technician. He's in charge of maintinig the stability of all devices, machines and technological systems in the city, as well as inventing new devices. He knows how everything works, and if something breaks he's there to fix it.

Appearnce: Curly brown hair, bright green eyes, quite tall.

Personlity: Very creative and enthusiastic about his work. If he gets something wrong he's rather hard on himself afterwards. He's not a perfectionist, he just expects the best out of himself after years of training.

Where he lives: In an apartment above his workshop, where he spends ost of his free time. This is where he works in addition to the company building he goes to everyday. He lives with an old couple who raised him and are not his parents. What became of his real parents he doesn't know.

His passion: Innovation. If he's not fixing the city he's constantly looking for ways to improve upon it and make life happier for its residents.

I feel the cold of the pit pulling at me, enticing me. Sunlight barely pierces the darkness within as I load my gun and aim it to the side of the building.

"Are you sure you don't want me to replace the walls back here, maybe give you a floor?" the architect says, shaking his head, "Wait-what are you-"

I leap and the magnet guns connects to the wall as I skid down making a loud metallic hiss as I whisk down the far wall. I hear the architect shout in surprise and I laugh.

I inflate a miniature air balloon and attach my spare magnet gun to it, allowing it to float up to the architect.

"Come on," I call, "I'm going to show you the basement! Just turn on the magnet gun and slide down the wall!" 

~Star Jasmine~

I use my shoulder to shove open the stained glass patterned doors of the library. My bike is locked outside on one of the wire stands that are attached to the building. Pulling off my messenger bag, I sit down in a chair next to another girl.

The girl has black hair slightly shorter than mine. It's pulled up high like it would be a ponytail, but braided into a sleek fishtail, every strand in place. Instead of looking severe and harsh it's graceful, gently swaying as she turns her head. She has almond eyes that although dark in color look like someone set them on fire. I can almost see the flames raging in their deepths. Small dark pools with a fire burning deep within them. Embers that look dead but an inferno rages just behind the shell of darkness. She's wearing a simple red t shirt and jeans and a jacket. The jeans are smudged with dirt and the knees of the jeans have the subtle greenish circles of grass stains washed at many times. I immeaditly like her.

Turning away, I pull out my sketchbook, flipping to my latest piece of art. It's the night sky, overlad with star jasmine flowers. The very center of each jasmine flower is the star, the petals are also lit but not as much. The stems and leaves are not the exact pitch dark the background will be when I color it, but a lighter gray, the lightness depending on how close they are too the flowers. That way, they'll look like clouds. 

I bite the inside of my mouth, then glance at the girl. I dont ussually hold drawings off but I really wanna do a portrait of this girl.

I poke her on the shoulder. She turns from her book, a slightly annoyed expression on her face. "Uh... can I draw you?" I blurt out.  

Amaya~

The girl blinks at me with warm brown eyes. I'm not sure whether to love or be annoyed at this girl. She's a truly amazing artist, and she seems to love her work as much as I love mine. And she sounds super sweet. 

Well... "Um... sure, I guess." I smile. "What's your name?"

"I'm Star."

"Star?"

"Star Jasmine, but... Star." She nods to her painting. "I'm an artist."

"Amaya Miel. I'm a gardener." Then I say, "So... you wanted to draw me?"

Star ducks her head. "I don't know, usually I would finish this." She motions to the beautiful star-jasmine galaxy. "But there's something..." 

Ramae~

I chain my bike up against the fence of a large building. It really is a nice one, made by some of the best architects in Merto, and fairly new as well, like the company it was made for. Its five floors aren't looming or imposing; on the contrary, they're very warm and welcoming, at least for me.

When I reach my office, which is as cluttered as my home, I slide a new piece of writing towards me. I started reading it yesterday, and while the quality of the writing isn't very good, the plot is fantastic. With a bit of work, it could be a bestseller.

After a few minutes, however, the plot takes a major flop. I frown. Where did this author get that from? I place the book down and press the "rejected" stamp to it. I hate doing that, but this author needs a lot of work.

At the end of a few more terrible books, I decide to call it a day. Instead of going home, however, I go straight to the library, my preferred place for writing: I could never get anything done in my office, it doesn't have the right environment. 

I pull out a small plastic binder and read over the most recent page of my work. Ready to continue, I grab a pencil and start writing.

~Star Jasmine~

I duck my head as I carefully shade, smuding with my finger so it blends in nicely. I'm almost finished, just adding my signature, when I hear a click, followed by a thud. Glancing up I see it's a girl shooting a target. She's good, really good, and many people seem to enjoy watching her, but I for one cant stand noise when I'm busy. "Too each her own," I remind myself as I finish my signature. 

"Do you want it?" I blurt, then immeaditly feel awkward. I doubt she actually wants it, I'm just shoving junk at her.

"Sure," She says with a smile. I'm starting to carefully rip it out when my phone rings. I pull out my phone and answer the call. "Star here, how can I help you?"

"Star dear your GPS says you're in the library but I'm willing to bet money you arent studying French like I asked you too," Comes my sisters calm voice.

"Awww come on Nina," I start, but she cuts me off. "You asked me to remind you, you said you wouldnt do it yourself without a good reminder.

I grab the French phrase book I'm practicing on from the shelf, then ask the girl if she'll help me study.