SCRA Recruitment Centre

[Jazz]

Akeem Johnson stepped off the small transport, carrying nothing more than his clothes and a small cane, which he obviously didnt need for walking. He was huge, standing nearly seven feet tall, the Omega 42's sun glared off his dark ebony colored skin. An oddity in today's society. He walked down several backstreets, trying not to gain attention, but his heritage and large stature made him stand out, he moved into the back parts of the city, where not many people roamed the streets openly, every hundred maters or so he would stop and consult a small yellow slip of paper, finally he came to a perfectly unremarkable door in a perfectly unremarkable building. He sighed and looked back down at his paper for a moment, reading instructions, after a time he looked back up, beating on the door with his heavy fist five times, a slow steady beat, then he whispered next to the edge, so he could be hear by the person he hoped was on the other side.

"Для витка, для красного рассвета. Я желаю дать мои жизнь, лимб, почетность, и искусство"

His pronunciation is perfect and he says the words correctly, but his accent is off, in fact, had he been speaking common english, he could have been mistaken for a Xeno. He stood patiently in the street, waiting for the answer that was supposed to come.

---

Some say that he is allergic to a fungus found only between the toes of Corsairs,
and that he is oblivious to 98% of Liberty Law. All we know is...
He's called the Busdriver!