Neo Sapien Mod Account (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
neosapienmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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
Andrei's just as happy to let Dr. Sohrab take point; he's far better equipped to deal with interference than Andrei on every level except perhaps the physical. As they approach, his gaze narrows, focused on the officer. He hides it with a slight duck of his head, letting the tangle of his hair and thickness of his lenses obscure the focus of his attention. There's a young couple -- a boy who can't be beyond his teens and his girlfriend in high-fashion curls and neon platform shoes -- complaining to the cop; the boy's puffing himself up, the girl shooting him admiring looks.
Andrei was young once himself. He can identify a situation that's not de-escalating any time soon.]
We may be in luck.
[The murmur is almost under his breath. Hopefully Dr. Sohrab will be able to hear it at his height.]
no subject
Sure enough, he doesn't get get within ten feet before the officer looks up. The man double-takes, and Magnus allows himself to smile at the sight, turning his amusement into a nonthreatening manner. ]
"I'm going to need you to step back," [ the officer begins, ] "No one is to leave the area until we—"
[ He glances back to the young couple in the midst of those words, clearly frazzled. That's good; frazzled is something Magnus can work with. ]
Until you've found a suspect? [ The words are a laugh, even as he comes up close enough to block the officer's vision on his right. He lifts his hands at his sides and splays them in the air, as if to indicate the size of his form. ] The proof of my innocence is right in front of you. How do you suppose I could have done such a thing without being spotted from halfway across the ward?
"Well, I..." [ Behind the faceless visor of his police uniform, the man hesitates — not in least part thanks to a small but sure sense that Magnus has a point, wormed into his mind from outside it. ]
no subject
As the man's attention is pulled away from Dr. Sohrab and back to shutting down the would-be tough kid, Andrei ghosts past behind his oversized helper and into the rapidly thinning crowds on the other side of the cordon. For a moment, he considers continuing to walk, getting himself well away-- but Dr. Sohrab hadn't had to help him.
Cursing his conscience for the thousandth time, he slips into the mouth of an alley, hunkering down into a crouch. There aren't many panhandlers up here, but there are always a few risking the increased police harassment for the more generous handouts. Andrei's outfit is old and worn enough that, when he pulls his coat close to hide the clean shirt, the masquerade is believable.
More importantly, the cops are busy with bigger fish, and he can make sure from here that Dr. Sohrab has gotten past their cordon without too much trouble.]
what's up just rolled dice for ability success
This boy is going to get himself hurt. Magnus feels absolutely certain of that, and the thought of standing by as it happens fills him with a roiling feeling of disgust. Drawing a slow breath through his nose, he empties the emotion from his mind with a practiced ease — and then, keeping those two figures within his field of vision, he projects the deepest sense of calm that he can.
It's a surprise, and a relief, when it seems to take root in at least one of them. Magnus allows his half-considered alternatives to slip from his mind as he sees the boy's shoulders relax. He turns, then, striding briskly down the side street — not that it's difficult, given the length of his steps — even as he continues to glance over his shoulder at the group he just left behind. He doesn't truly trust the officer to let the matter go, even with the boy now backing down, but at least there's a chance he won't need to get any more involved than that.
Anyway, Magnus is really not paying attention to where Andrei is at this point, so try not to get accidentally kicked! ]
no subject
[Andrei had been on the verge of stepping back out to ensure his savior hadn't found unexpected trouble dealing with the authorities when he spots the man striding down the sidewalk towards him. His legs -- each nearly as long as Andrei is tall -- eat up the distance like a sprinter's, and Andrei has to dodge hastily before he looks up far enough to realize the other man is walking while looking backwards.
He breaks into a jog to keep pace.]
Is everything all right?
[He's concerned about the other boy, too, but, well, one can't save every rash child who goes out of their way to pick a fight with a cop. He can at least hope it won't escalate to violence. That, he would have had trouble walking away from, despite the inevitable consequences.]
no subject
I wonder, is it ever?
[ He shakes his head as he looks back to Andrei, as if trying to clear some persistent thought away. ]
Please, there's no need for formalities here. [ It's a change in topic, and not entirely without deliberate purpose. ] Simply Magnus is fine.
no subject
[It takes an idealistic heart to remember everything that's not right, and still have the strength to get up in the mornings. Some days, Andrei is an idealist himself. Others, he is not, but he rarely finds a day when he doesn't have to get up in the morning.
His own smile lingers, although it's perhaps more bitter than melancholy.]
But of course. Magnus, then. And I'd say, 'call me Andrei,' but, well--
[It's the only name he's given, and he doesn't make a habit of giving out his surname. There are a million Andreis in the world, but he dislikes the sound of the close-enough pseudoynm Ivanov on his identity documents.]
My stop is the metro station two streets north. And yours?
no subject
[ Magnus nods, then, understanding the unspoken end to that sentence. Again, he considers saying that he doesn't intend to ask for anything more personal than that — but perhaps it's better if that is left unsaid, as well. ]
I prefer to avoid the metro, actually. [ With that, there's a real amusement that creeps into his expression. Will it occur to Andrei why that is, he wonders. ] I'll walk.
no subject
[His smile goes aggressively bright and cheerful to match his tone. It's not funny, as such, but mordant cynicism goes better with a smile.
Magnus's comment about the metro gets an understanding nod; the cars can't be more than nine feet tall, after all. Andrei is lucky that his own mutation's worst side-effect is killing small consumer electronics when he gets nervous.]
And the weather is nice for walking -- so long as the crowds are friendly, of course. Please take care; I am terribly grateful for the save.
[His smile flickers to gentler sincerity, and he pats his coat pockets with an absent air.]
Let's see, I'm sure I had... there.
[He produces something that looks like a tangle of ribbon from his inside breast pocket and gives it a shake; it untwists into a complicated spiral of silver plastic, cut, twisted and seamed together into a wind-spinner. It's one of his latest favorites: the inside layer spins in the opposite direction, and it's striped with bits of holographic foil.]
A small token of my appreciation? Since it seems we must part ways shortly.
no subject
I could hardly do anything less.
[ At first, he says nothing as Andrei pats at his coat, presuming it to be a routine check for the routine things kept in one's pockets. When he withdraws that tangle of silvery thread instead, though, a spark of curiosity brightens in his expression. Magnus inclines his head slightly as the reflective ribbon is unfurled — and then, a look of pleasant surprise crosses his face. Just like that earlier bow, the eccentricity of the gesture charms him.
It's with a respectful gratitude that he offers his hand for the gift, a surprising amount of delicacy to be found in his oversized fingers. ]
Thank you. I'll be sure to find a good place for it.
[ And, well. He does have an affection for shiny things, valuable or not. For now, it goes into the breast pocket of his own coat like an oddly shimmering corsage. ]
no subject
You are most welcome.
[He sweeps another, quick, theatrical bow, before straightening up with a glint of a smile and turning to disappear into the thickening crowd moving towards the metro station.]