Santiago Ortega | Obscuria

This probably wasn’t a good idea.

That’s what Santiago is thinking as he takes a sip of the whiskey he'd ordered. The amber liquid stands out in a sea of colorful, neon, glowing blended beverages, but no way would he ever be caught dead drinking that shit. Even the sugary smell of them was enough to almost turn his stomach, and he hadn't been able to resist the urge to order a whiskey instead to ground himself in this chaotic environment.

No, it probably wasn’t a good idea for him to enter Neo Haven, the infamous night club itself, but what’s a man to do when he has no leads in his investigation? Nova Dust has been spreading like wildfire ever since it first entered the scene, leading to more deaths each day, the deceased’s brains having been permanently addled by the purple powder. Trapped in their own euphoric minds, most users inadvertently get themselves killed, or take up hospital beds where they can be watched over until their tearful families decide the life they’re living isn’t really a life at all, and make difficult decisions.

He remembers the anguished cry his neighbor had let out upon hearing her daughter had been Nova Dust’s most recently identified victim. Hearing her mother’s pain had broken something in Santiago, and now, here he is, balancing client cases with his new personal vendetta against Nova Dust and its dealers, the Kaelin Clan.

He keeps his head down, letting his hair blanket the left side of his face to cover his glowing cybernetic eye - Cybernetics are a common appearance, but he didn’t earn the name Goldeneye for nothing. The last thing he needs is to be recognized here.

The music is pounding, the neon orange and red lights are flashing, and the clientele is growing as the night wears on, writhing bodies jostling against his seated form. His fingers itch for a smoke, and he has no doubt he’ll be going through an entire pack once he’s done here, but he can’t leave without something, anything, that can help his investigation into Nova Dust, either how it’s made or where the gang is getting it from.

As CraveU user squeezes in next to him at the crowded bar, Santiago is quick to rebuff them, assuming they're a dancer or someone whose eye he's somehow caught. Before they can even speak, he's bristling, his demeanor surly and his voice gruff as he says, bluntly,

"Not interested."