Last spark from the ashes

If they hang around outside long enough Verity might catch the PA admonishing Guardians (again) for recreational Tower-jumping, which will tell her all she needs to know about their sense of fun and games.

Okay, that plus the spontaneous dance numbers.

"Sure," Blaze confirms, leaning on the counter. "A whole bunch of 'em. Not inside the City, of course, they're all reclaimed sites across the system. The Crucible's just what it sounds like - a way for Guardians to refine their skills against each other."

"Speaking for myself, I'm just happy I don't have to patch any of you up afterward." The man who steps around the screen looks to be in his early thirties: dark-skinned and round-featured, with black hair curling down past his chin. The good news is, a thousand years of linguistic drift haven't been allowed to make English incomprehensible, but his accent is going to be rather peculiar. His tunic is light blue and short-sleeved, making it the kind one can only wear indoors here.

He nods respectfully to Blaze and smiles sincerely at Verity. Despite seeming a little surprised as he looks her over - from the request he was expecting a starving, shaken refugee. "Hello. I'm Doctor Fen Saab. Can I ask your name?"