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Election Day It was early yet, and Ditra Fifty-Five wandered out into the Main Plaza feeling sick to her stomach; she'd just voted in the Republic Election, and part of her thought it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference who won. The green-skinned Nameless agent wandered over to a public bench and plopped down on it, still with her arms wrapped protectively around her belly. Like many of her more 'humanoid' behaviors, it was partly programed and partly legitimate, but it meant something a bit different when a Nameless did it. The lower abdomen is where a unit's pilot rested, safely coiled up inside an armored 'womb', so the gesture was really one of protection towards the bug that was the living core of cyborg. Ditra sat there for several minutes, watching the crowds line up outside the polling place. Street vendors began to set up their carts to serve the voters, and soon the smells of grilled meats and hot drinks wafted her way, and her pilot shifted and wriggled inside her, filled with pangs of hunger. I guess I did forget to have any breakfast before we left... And with that, she hopped up off the bench and strolled back across the street towards a Gandari noodle seller, his head wreathed in steam. "Good morning, young lady? What can I get for you?" "Good morning! I'll have a deep bowl of the ghat soup, with extra noodles, aaaaand a bottle of Triple-V." "Very good, miss! Coming right up!"