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neosapienooc2019-12-30 12:51 am
neosapienmods) wrote in neosapienooc2019-12-30 12:51 am
TEST DRIVE MEME #1
JANUARY TEST DRIVE
1: SPRAWLING WASTELAND, GLOWING IN THE DARK
No sunlight reaches the Underground, but there is rain: grey, oily droplets that slowly trickle down from the city above, seeping through layers of concrete until they drip from broken light fixtures onto the aptly named black markets below. The glow of neon signs keeps the shadows at bay, just barely. What was once a system of utility tunnels and basement bunkers is now a warren of tiny shops offering reprogrammed ID chips and back-alley cybernetic upgrades, where hitmen and slave traders operate with lawless impunity. But someone is always watching... the eyes of Yakashbah, graffitied in bioluminescent paint, stare unblinking from the walls.2: A MIND OF DARKNESS, A HEART OF LIGHT
People come to this place for only two reasons: they're either looking for something, or they're trying not to be found. Whatever your reason, the Underground welcomes you.
Outside of manicured parks and glass-enclosed vertical farms, green space is rare in New Gate City, so the elites flaunt their wealth in private rooftop gardens. Fragrant, exotic flowers bloom amidst strings of lanterns, and real grass - an extravagant luxury - carpets the ground beneath partygoers' feet as they sip champagne and admire the dark cityscape below. Tonight, one of the Douman Zaibatsu's myriad charity organizations hosts its annual fundraising gala... but this year, the special guests attract even more attention than the celebrities and fashionistas in attendance. Representatives from the Neo Sapien Organization have been invited to speak on the topic of Human/Meta-human relations, and to raise money on behalf of job placement programs for impoverished Metas in the Last Ward. Of course, most within the Douman Zaibatsu would prefer that these "job placement programs" send Metas to the farms far outside New Gate City (or better yet, to the lunar strip mines), but at least for tonight, members of both factions hide behind false smiles and false words.3: AS FEAR'S REPLICATING, YOUR WORDS RESONATING
Someone gasps, and everyone looks up. Arcadia's central shopping district goes silent, save for the distant sound of pop tunes played over tinny speakers, as a massive black banner unfurls down the side of a building. A crudely drawn eye fills the banner, bisected by a line of white paint... the unofficial symbol of the Meta rights movement. People start to whisper, and somewhere, there's a cheer. Police drones buzz through the air above.4: A NEW HOPE GLISTENS OFF THE STREETS
Meta rights protests aren't uncommon in this part of New Gate City, even though they're soon dispersed by local security forces. This banner, too, will be quickly taken down and destroyed, but the photos and videos of the event will be harder to suppress. Already, the bystanders are murmuring to each other, some in support and some in fear. Others keep their heads down, wary of expressing their true feelings about the rising numbers of Meta-humans. And as security forces move to block off the area, others are frantically trying to disappear.
The blocks surrounding the Neo Sapien Organization's headquarters in the Middle Ward are like an oasis at the center of an otherwise inhospitable city. Old buildings have been renovated into bright and cheerful apartments that accommodate a variety of Meta-human physiologies, Meta schools and Meta-owned businesses are flourishing, and Meta-friendly shops and cafes line the streets.5: WITHIN THE CHAOS, I KNOW I'M NOT ALONE
The best coffee in the Middle Ward can be found at The Mean Bean, just across from the NSO building, where the shop's fire-breathing Meta owner personally roasts every batch. NSO employees and and other patrons of the popular cafe congregate to discuss local news and gossip: a proposed Meta registration and identification law, rumors of vigilante gangs near the border with the Last Ward, and rivalries between NSO university sports teams. Arguments occasionally grow heated (especially when it comes to sports), but overall the atmosphere is friendly and congenial.
The Last Ward's electrical grid is reliably unreliable, but blackouts on this scale are rare. Half the ward has been dark for the past three days, save for a few emergency generators and dwindling battery backups. As winter winds batter old, drafty concrete apartment blocks, the residents grow restless and frustrated. Police have already put down several riots, but there's no stopping the spike in looting and other petty crimes.
In the Parish, many people have opted to barricade themselves inside their homes until the blackout ends, but others are taking advantage of the chaos. Most, though, have chosen to band together to protect each other throughout the long nights. The people of the Parish may not have much, but at least they have a sense of community.
no subject
He shuffles off to the side as the thief gets up and runs for it, not willing to turn his back to either of them. Once he's gone, Cal takes a shaky breath and stuffs his bag under one arm, facing her with squared shoulders and a confidence that he didn't truly feel.
"Cowardly, sure. Are you... like me?" Cal wasn't just talking about that little display of power. He had spent years hoping he'd find another Jedi, but his daydreaming had never conjured up anything quite like this. "I thought all the others were dead."
no subject
She says that simply, looking him right in the eye so he can tell she is not lying. That she is not afraid, or concerned. She waves her hand towards the alleyway, beginning to retreat back a ways. One hand does pull back a fold of her robe to reveal the hilt of a plasma sword, hoping he'll take that as proof.
"I'd rather not talk on the street, though. I run a medical clinic on the other side of this building, if you'd care to join me? I've tea."
She turns to leave, regardless of his answer. He can come or not, she isn't going to be offended.
no subject
"Tea, sure. Tea sounds great." Stopping for a snack break was the furthest thing from his mind right now, but though Cal already has a hundred questions on the tip of his tongue, this was a terrible place to ask them. He's gone years without meeting another Jedi, and he wasn't going to pass up the chance to get a few answers.
Cal tugs the hood of his poncho back down over his face as he hurries to follow her. "That's got to be tough. I didn't even know there was a clinic down here." This being one of the most lawless areas of the city, he's already impressed to find anything in the Underground that wasn't geared towards criminals trying to make a profit.
no subject
And she doesn't need supplies for the most part.
She leads the rest of the way in silence, pushing open a back door with a keycard and ushering Cal inside. It's a simple enough place, just a small living space no different from most apartments, but with a door leading into white hallways, clearly a sterilized environment, and a visible door to a front waiting area.
Heading into the living room, Barriss waves her hand and calls over an electric kettle with streamer of Force.
"I'm Barriss Offee. I parted ways from the main Order shortly before the turmoil, due to some philosophical differences with the leadership. What's your name? And how long have you been on your own?"
no subject
Still, he's not so relaxed that he doesn't take a good look around on their way into the living room. He keeps his eyes on the levitating kettle as he takes a seat, pushing the hood off of his head and running a hand through his hair to straighten it up a bit.
"I'm Cal. Cal Kestis. I was a padawan when... everything happened. You're the first Jedi, or ex-Jedi, that I've met since then."