Picture, if you will, a lazy Wednesday afternoon. The sun shines down on the state of Florida, specifically on the city of St. Augustine.
Daedalus, a young graduate student, steps out of a cafe, the take out box in his hands filling the nearby area with delicious, warm smells.
In a nearby alleyway, Tatterdemalion, a scruffy-looking homeless man wrapped in an unnecessary amount of clothing jabbers about strange things into a large, broken cell phone, his eyes focused on an empty spot on the ground. He pauses, then looks confused as he puts the phone back in his pocket and takes a bite out of his sandwich.
At this moment, shouting and several loud gunshots erupt from the direction of the city’s central plaza.