Back home, back to Kehler Complex. The cabbie was wordless and simply tapped the fare monitor set into the console when they finally arrived, the transaction made with a few swipes and taps on her phone. Up she went, out of her off-yellow vessel and onto the sidewalk, nothing but cold concrete and the stares of strangers to comfort her. Greys and glass were painted with the shades of the sun; the building itself, normally a brutalist monument to compact efficiency, was in a state both breathtaking and pitiable.

Rebar showed through holes in the exterior, bullet holes a reminder of Vitus's growing criminal element, while other chunks had been freed from the recent terrorist activity or even simple vandalism. The bottom floors were spotless due to a rigorous cleaning regimen to prevent graffiti - the upper levels, surprisingly, sported a few smaller tags that the maintenance crew wasn't paid enough to care about. Fire damage had left sections of the concrete catacomb of a building blackened, and some of the windows were similarly scorched beyond easy repair. If they weren't designed to be impossible to break or open then they may have broken from the abuse.

However, something about this entropy is a breath of fresh air to the wayward blonde. Like Vitus, this building is far from perfect - in fact, it's falling apart, only held together by those unfortunate few who are consigned to keep it standing. It may be damaged and in a constant state of disrepair, but that gives it a human element that far outclasses (in her mind) the picture-perfect monoliths of steel that the wealthy and influential hid themselves away in. The housing complexes were the environment of the neo-poor: those with enough money to rent and afford to eat, but kept in constant debt by taxes, tailored wages, and slow but steady inflation. Only a few of them even had car parks, the idea of a personal automobile too bizarre for most in Vitus to even consider.

Outside the building, a handful of people are playing with a hackey-sack. Late teens at youngest and mid twenties at oldest, a few of them eye EJ over as she walks forwards and past - without a word, the one with the hackey-sack kicks it over to her, making sure she's watching before he does. Instinct kicks in, still fueled by her early dinner, and she manages to awkwardly return it to the group. It's greeted with cheers and smiles. No invitation to join, but that was ok; she didn't want to, anyways. Just being there had been enough for her.

In through the doors she went, a pair of mechanized steel doors mostly made of glass. They slid apart like parting jaws to give her access, the lobby of the building every bit as boring as she remembered, seemingly untouched by the exterior damage. Off-green carpet too short to lose a grain of rice in covered the entirety of the floor on every level, its dinginess only spared to the individual apartments; the walls were similarly drab, being a pale orange-ish color that could only be considered a sad, sun-bleached creamsicle. The ceiling was made of grey tiles interspersed with inset light fixtures; hanging lights would have been too easy to smash. A reception counter sat off to the side, manned by an overweight woman in thick horn rim glasses. She was asleep, and snoring loudly; she was rarely needed, anyways.

EJ smiled. Just like she'd left it. Not that it had been long... A few days at most, right? Shit, she was losing track of the days... but things would be fine at her apartment, surely. This place was too peaceful, too lived-in to pose her any threat. Not right now. Not tonight.

Or so she hoped.

Through the doors to the stairwell (elevator was out again) and up she went. Her apartment was on the 25'th floor - not easy on the legs by any means - but she barely even registered the trip. Step after step disappeared behind her as she worked her way around the stairwell, occasionally stealing a glance out one of the cracked or dirty windows to take in the view of the city. Something caught her eye: a massive factory with a huge FF in neon lights on the side was still, silent, not a wisp of smoke pouring into the sky. Perhaps that was why the sun was out.

"Another strike, maybe...? Or someone got caught in the intake again, and they're sterilizing it..."

The words came without thinking, and alone as she was, she didn't mind voicing her thoughts aloud. The factory was Frohl's Foods, an independent corp that specialized in the meat-based commodities that Vitus thrived on. Sinewdles, bone starch granola bars, jerky and rind trailmix, marrow-cakes, blutbier (the German used only so that the average citizen didn't make the connection), lard spreads... The list went on and on. Their safety standards were loose at best... every month or two someone got caught in the machinery and the whole factory needed to be sterilized to prevent human meat from contaminating the product. Government cleaners came in, hosed it all down, and then it was back to work as usual the next day.

By comparison to FF, Tsang seemed benevolent to EJ. At least if met true-death while on the job working for Tsang they'd pay out life insurance. That was a luxury most people weren't afforded anymore - in a city where death was more of a speedbump than a finality, insurance companies were jumpy to say the least.

Finally, floor 25 loomed. EJ snapped out of her daydream to step through the heavy metal door which separated the hallway from the stairwell, feet padding onto that dreary green carpet only to carry her straight into someone else's torso.

Whud. Her face met soft, lived-in cotton with a similarly forgiving body beneath it, causing her to stumble back in surprise; her footing gave and she went to tumble, but a firm hand shot out faster than sound to catch her by the collar of her baggy sweatshirt. There EJ sat, suspended by a stranger's appendage, eyes wide and mouth opened slightly in her surprise; she couldn't help but drink in this other person in this moment of stillness, still too frazzled by the day's events to properly respond.

Long waves of raven hair, teased up to form a small curl, covered most of her head; the left side had been shaved down to the flesh, tattooed with a skull over crossed skeletal arms. Her ears were pierced with studs and bars and small rings, sparingly but densely enough to be notable; her nose, too, was studded on the right side, and her left brow held a few more. Her brows were thicker but sculpted, and her features were sharp; piercing amber eyes gazed out with concern at the blonde, mouth speaking but the words not coming through. EJ blinked a few times more, giving her noggin a little jiggle to try and focus.

"...you alright? Shit, you're not high, are you? I can't babysit you... What apartment are you going to? Hey, can you even hear me? Say some-"

EJ cut her off, regaining her footing just as she began stammering excused for her own absentmindedness.

"Uh, shit, sorry, I'm ok! I'm ok...! Sorry, I was just... I was thinking about stuff, y'know? Wasn't really paying attention where I'm going... Sorry..."

She could feel her face turning red while the other girl watched, those sharp, elegant features shifting into a relieved grin. When the stranger spoke again EJ couldn't help but let her eyes roll across the girl's freckles, silently admiring the way they were peppered across her cheekbones and nose. They reminded the ghoulette of constellations.

"Good, haha! Good, yeah... Oh, thank god you're not on something. Not that I mind normally, but I'm already late for something, and... Nevermind, doesn't matter. I'm Kell. Nice t'meetcha, floormate. I haven't run into you before, I don't think."

For a woman who was late for something, Kell didn't seem to be in a huge rush. She helped EJ to her feet fully now, realizing only after a few moments that she had still been holding the blonde's hoodie - now it was her turn to blush, the garment released with a guilty, apologetic smile. EJ brushed herself off before replying.

"I, uh, I don't get out much, I guess... I'm Esper James. Nice to meet you too, Kell... I'm from apartment 2091, wayyyy down the hall. I'd love to talk, but you're late for something, right?" EJ put up a smile of her own, hers more of a facade. She felt guilty for running headfirst into this other woman - she didn't want to hold her up any more than was necessary. Instead of dashing off, however, Kell's eyes lit up when EJ divulged her apartment number, the girl's ivory smile widening still.

"2091?! Yo, I'm in 2095! We're like neighbors, a little! That's super cool. We should definitely hang out - in fact, what are you doing right now? Are you busy? I'm a little late, but I'm going to go hang out with some friends right now - other people from this floor, don't worry, no one weird - and guests are always welllll-coooooome~"

Her excitement was jarring, to say the least, but it was a warmth that drew EJ in more than it pushed her away. After everything that had been happening in her life, a no-strings-attached hangout with some new friends did sound tempting... And what was she going to do in her apartment, anyways? Watch old anime? Sleep? Make a sad dinner? Sleep, again? It was still only the early evening, and there was plenty of the time left before she'd need to get up for work... if she was even going to head in tomorrow. That settled it. She'd bite.

"Huh... I guess it has been a bit since I've just hung out with people... Sure. I can give it a try, I guess. Lead the way, new friend!"

She laughed a little, and when she laughed Kell did too. Soon enough they were heading down the hallway towards the 2060's, chatting between themselves. Kell was outgoing and easy to talk to; charismatic may have been a stretch, but she was friendly and easygoing in a way that set EJ at ease. They discussed work (Kell was unemployed but got pension from her late father's company), favorite movie genres (a shared love of horror, but bitter opposition about which series were good), and life in general. In the distance, their destination - apartment 2062 - sat nestled between the other completely identical doors in the housing complex. As they neared it, Kell slowed pace and turned to EJ, an earnest, concerned look in her eyes.

"Ok, so... I do have to, like, preface this with something. Everyone's really cool and nice and stuff, but like, uhh... They're... They can get a little political. I promise, they're not really that bad, but, well, it's a bit of a weird environment sometimes, so..."

A little political? That was a flag redder than fucking blood at this point, but EJ was also this far in, and Kell was fun; if her friends were like her then surely they wouldn't be so bad, right? Besides, what could your politics really be in Vitus - or in the UNAC as a whole? It was an oligarchy of loosely-veiled corporations that propped up a lame excuse for a central government. It wasn't rife with choice or political freedom, though nowhere really was nowadays. EJ nodded, shrugging her shoulders at the information as if it wasn't such a big deal.

"Yeah, that's no problem; I'm pretty chill, myself, but I don't mind some banter I guess. What kind of stuff should I be expecting?"

As she asked, Kell opened the door to the apartment without knocking. Inside, a handful of young adults, each somewhere in their early to late twenties, were playing a boardgame with pens and paper. The scent of meat and blood from home-made mixed drinks and what seemed like barbecue potluck rushed out in a comforting wave, enveloping the two women. At the table, a young man with bright eyes and slicked-back black hair was regaling the group with the details of a horde of monsters; the players, enthralled, prepare their dice and plastic miniatures for battle.

Kell smiled, turning to EJ and pulling her into the warmth of the room. As the pair entered the group at the table turned to look at them, smiling and waving, faces pleasantly surprised when they noticed EJ. They were a motley group, all different cultural shades, but there was something each of them held in common that the ghoul picked up on almost immediately: their eyes. Each one was undead, without a doubt.

"Oh, y'know... Nothing that I think will really be an issue."

Kell winked at EJ then, closing the door behind them as the two headed to join those already in attendance, a plate of BBQ and a plastic mug of blutbier (the man with the slicked hair insisted it was a 'tankard of ale') provided for either of the newcomers. It was going to be a cozy night in, for sure.

Just what EJ needed.