This attraction was slightly more tolerable than the Museum she had visited earlier. Although there was nothing exciting about handful old bones and badly done plastic models assembled over tar for people to observe. Even the children were yawning. At the very least, there wasn’t a reptilian creature she had come across the streets at night to ruin these people’s fun. Surely, that would be more thrilling for her to take care about, yet the civilian death count wouldn’t worth her amusement. In everything, this park appeared harmless; she had scanned for suspicious people and found none.
I wonder how this will change in the night.
It was clear that LA lived a double existence - the safe, sunny California that is promoted during daylight and the dangerous battle zone after sundown. The authorities, the police, the press, everyone was useless. And the justice system? She wanted to laugh. With lawyers regarded as metaphorical and literal evil forces, the knight had her reservations about its value.
Welcome to United States. What a bloody mess… How can they be so incompetent?
Her thoughts were disturbed by the loud demands of fireworks. She paused and noticed the crippled fellow again, complaining about the offered show. Americans were madder than she thought. Perhaps was the age, it affected the man more than the dignified John Bulls. To his credit, Integral very much agreed with his point.
“Did you expect something else when you visit Tar Pits?” asked Integral, approaching the man.